When will dinner be ready? I heard the question echo in the cramped kitchen of the little cottage in Yorkshire. When you make it, then itll be ready, Thomas replied, wiping his spectacles. Thomas, does your wife want me to stay at the stove? Or is she going to lie down? he added, halfjoking, halfscolding. Emma, without waiting for an answer, grabbed a few belongings and slipped into the hallway, her motherinlaw following close behind. Whats all this? Where are you off to? she asked. On holiday! Farewell! Emma placed the heavy luggage on the floor with a sigh of relief. Im home! she declared.
A low mumble drifted from the bedroom, then the source emerged a man about forty, perhaps a little younger, perhaps a little older, dressed in a tracksuit and slippers. Emma, why are you shouting? Youre not even back in your village. Behave yourself, he chided. Honestly, could you at least meet me? You know my pay is in, and we need to buy groceries. He let out a loud sigh. Good heavens! What groceries? he muttered, turning and disappearing back into the bedroom. Emma exhaled heavily. How much shed had enough of it all!
She worked two jobs to keep the house running, while her husband, propped up by his mother, spent the past year polishing some mythical manuscript. The first had been dismissed as nonsense; no one understood his art. She stripped off her coat, carried the bags into the kitchen, and reminded herself that tomorrow marked the start of her monthlong holiday. She would have to clean the whole house, wash, iron, and rearrange everything under her motherinlaws watchful eye. She felt utterly exhausted.
Mrs. Margaret, the motherinlaw, peeked into the kitchen. Emma, why are you so spread out? Planning to feed the husband? Hes been at work all day and now expects a meal! Did he earn much? she pressed. Emma could not quite grasp how the conversation had taken such a turn. Once, she had looked at the fledgling writer with awe, believing he would become famous. Now, the mere sight of her motherinlaw made her tremble, and she tried hard to please her, silently bearing guilt because, during her maternity leave, it had been the motherintogether who kept the family afloat.
Mrs. Margaret, ready to leave, spun around sharply. What did you say? she demanded. I asked if he earned much. Usually when men work, money comes home. How dare you! Thomas has been plotting the plot of his next chapter all day! What do you know about using your head for work? The woman huffed and left, and Emma thought, What am I doing here? The boy at his parents farm has been noisy for weeks, and his clamor keeps Thomas from concentrating on his next pointless masterpiece. She snapped back to reality, restocking the fridge, this time packing the items into a large sack. She had received her wages and holiday pay, and intended to bring home tasty produce and a gift for her son on the way.
She stepped into the corridor, set the sack down, and reached for another item. Thomas, eyes glued to the telly, asked again, When will dinner be ready? When you make it, then itll be ready, she answered. The motherinlaw slipped off her glasses. Thomas, does your wife want me to stand at the stove? Or will she just lie there? Emma, ignoring the whole exchange, took a few things and headed down the stairs, the motherinlaw trailing behind. Whats happening? Where are you off to? On holiday! Goodbye! She didnt wait to see what would follow. She grabbed the heavy sack and bolted down the stairs, hailing a taxisixty miles to the city, she thought, one time wont hurt.
Harry was already in bed when Emma entered the family home. He woke, ran to his mother, and hugged her tight. She held him close, feeling how much she had missed him. Their mother looked keenly at Emma. Did something happen? Why did you leave Thomas? Who will look after him? The mother had always kept a proper distance from the soninlaw. After the wedding theyd visited the parents on weekends, but the motherinlaw, seeing how he passed his days, quickly put Thomas in his place.
After a few visits, Mrs. Margaret would rouse Thomas at six in the morning, sending him to work in the garden or the yard, and his desire for a leisurely walk in the country faded. Enough, Mother! Im off on holiday for a whole month! Their mother smiled. Well, thank God youll rest and be with your son. Emma lay down with Harry, staring at the moonlit ceiling, watching her boy grow, and finally drifted off.
In the morning a strange smell woke herbread and pastries. Harry was gone. Emma stretched, feeling a strange comfort, and there, beside her, was her son. Grandma baked a whole tub of pies! After breakfast, Emma asked her mother, What should I do now? Arent you rested yet? Ive only just begun to enjoy myself, and theres another job waiting. Go to the garden. The cabbages overgrown, the cucumbers need weeding, I cant keep up. On the third row she realized she actually enjoyed the work, admiring the neat, weeded beds, and smiled. Never seen anyone weed with such a happy face! she thought.
George! Where have you been? she called. He entered from the back garden. I stopped by your fathers to borrow a key, and they told me Emma had arrived, so I couldnt leave. George had been her neighbour since childhood; shed loved him from the age of ten, even though he was fifteen then. Hed given him sweets, looked after her, left for service, returned to find Emma a teenager, and both felt awkward. He later married, moved to the city, and they hadnt seen each other for ten years.
What brings you here? Emma asked. You wont believe itIm here for my mother. I separated a month ago. Well, thats none of my business. That evening George and his mother invited everyone over. They grilled kebabs, chatted, and Emma felt a warmth she could not put into words. There was no need to hold back, no need to listen to complaints. Simply living seemed enough.
Two weeks later her mother sat opposite her. Emma, darling, what are you thinking? Are you coming back? I dont know, Mother. How can I live? I have work but no home. Maybe rent a flat? Or stay here. Well find you a job. And George have you noticed how he looks at you? Mother, what does he look at? Its just a echo of my childhood. I dont know George is handsome, reliable. His city job is said to be very important. Emma stared at her mother, bewildered. Mother, are youve decided to set me up? The woman blushed. Whats wrong with that? I see you two would be good together. Emma laughed. Well, Mother does try.
George left for a week of work, and Emma missed him badly, even scolding herself, feeling like a child again. Thomas kept calling and texting, first chiding her for being ungratefulpulling her out of the village only to see her act this waythen threatening to evict her and the boy from the flat. Emma even laughed at his threats. After many years he still hadnt figured out how to remove her from the lease. Then the motherinlaw called, saying the pressure on her from an ungrateful daughterinlaw would be her fault if Emma didnt return immediately.
The last days grew quiet, oddly soothing. One evening George arrived, brought a huge car for Harry, and invited them over again. Their mother gave Emma a meaningful look, and Emma felt such joy at Georges presence she wanted to leap. As the kebabs sizzled, a car stopped outside. A young woman burst out and hurried toward George. Darling, how long will you keep hiding from me? Lets go to town?! Oksana, why are you here? Emma understood instantly she was Georges former wife, now an unwelcome guest. She took Harrys hand, and they walked toward the house, but a taxi pulled up before they could get far.
From the taxi stepped Thomas and his mother. Look at her! Shes strolling around, not caring about her husband. Why are you here? The motherinlaws voice rose. Emma pressed her lips together, finally seeing how bitter these people had become. Rested? Get home quickly! A husband must work, not loaf about! Did you get a job? The motherinlaw snapped, and Thomas tried to speak. You know Im writing a book! Its not the same as hauling steel in a factory. Thomas Ive wanted to tell you for ages youre a failure, that you live like a child. What have you done for your family? Money? Teach the boy anything? No, you sit on my neck with your mother. I wont return. Ill take everything we bought in the last ten years! Emma walked to the front gate and, to her surprise, found George there, smiling. What a nighttime surprise, youve answered well. They watched Thomas and his mother argue with Oksana, gesturing wildly.
Emma never stayed in the village. After she and George married, they moved to London, where a new husband insisted she change her line of work; a factory job seemed unfit for a lady. Emma now sat in a modest office, shuffling papers, embarrassed by the modest wages. George, however, was genuinely astonished. Your salary is your salarybuttons and pins. A man should provide for the family. Thomas soon married Oksana, leaving his mother to support two idlers. Rumour had it Emma had convinced her son to forget the book and work in a factory.
In the end, everything that happened turned out for the best. One thing broke, another was built. And that, dear reader, is how the tangled lives of Emma, Thomas, George, and their kin unfolded across the years.
