**Diary Entry 14th March**
*Where to? And wholl cook for us now?*
What on earth are you doing? Where are you going? Whos going to cook for us now? my husband asked, stunned, as he watched me packing a bag after yet another row with his mother.
I glanced out the window. A dreary, grey gloom hung over the morning, despite it being early spring. Our little town up north rarely saw sunny daysmaybe thats why everyone here seemed so miserable and unfriendly.
Lately, Id noticed my own reflection lacked a smile, the permanent frown etching deeper lines into my forehead, making me look older than my years.
Mum! Im going out! my daughter, Emily, called.
Fine, I nodded absently.
Fine? Give me some money then.
Since when do walks cost anything? I sighed.
Mum! Seriously? Emily huffed, losing patience. Theyre waiting for me! Hurry up! And why so little?
Its enough for ice cream.
Youre such a miser, she muttered, already halfway out the door before I could reply.
I shook my head, remembering how sweet Emily used to be before the teenage years hit.
Claire, Im starving! Whens dinner? my husband, Thomas, barked impatiently.
Go and eat, I replied flatly, setting a plate on the table.
Arent you going to serve me?
I nearly dropped the pot. What on earth?
We eat in the kitchen, Tom. Take it or leave it, I said, sitting down without another word.
Fifteen minutes later, Thomas finally shuffled in.
Its cold gross.
Shouldve come sooner.
I asked you! No love, no careyou know Im watching the match! He shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth. Tastes awful.
I rolled my eyes. Football had turned him into a stranger. The bets, the merchandise, the overpriced tickets An obsession, though hed never cared for sports when we were young.
Without sitting down properly, he grabbed a beer to cheer up, a packet of crisps for hunger, and marched back to the telly. Leaving me to scrub the dirty dishes.
No one ever appreciated what I did.
I was exhausted after my shiftsenior nurse at the hospital, endless stress, and instead of peace at home, I had a second unpaid job: fetch, carry, clean.
Any drinks left? Thomas rummaged through the fridge. Whys there nothing?
Because *you* drank it all! Should I buy you more? Have some shame, Tom! I snapped.
So dramatic, he scoffed, slamming the door as he stormed out to restock for the next match.
I tried to sleepanother gruelling shift tomorrowbut my mind wouldnt settle. Where was Emily? Who was she with? It was pitch-black outside, and still no sign of her. I didnt dare call; that always ended in a shouting match.
*Are you trying to embarrass me in front of my friends?! Stop calling!* shed scream. So I stopped. Shed turned eighteen, after all. No job, no studiesjust finding herself.
Just as I dozed off, Thomass triumphant shouts jolted me awake. Someone mustve scored. Then came the loud debate with the neighbour whod popped in and stayed, bringing his girlfriend. Midnight arrived with Emily clattering plates, stomping upstairs. When silence finally fell, the cat yowled for food.
*Can no one in this house feed the cat but me?!* I stormed out, migraine pounding. Emily rolled her eyes, headphones in. Thomas snored, beer can in hand.
*Ive had enough I cant take this anymore.*
The next morning, my mother-in-law called.
Claire, darling, dont forgettime to plant the veg. And the cottage needs tidying.
I remember, I sighed.
Well go tomorrow.
My only day off, spent under her watchful eye.
Youre sweeping it all wrong! Hold the broom properly! she ordered from her perch on the bench.
Im nearly fifty, Margaret. I think I can manage.
My Thomas wouldnt do it like that.
And where *is* your precious son? Why isnt *he* driving you? Why take a three-hour bus? Its always Thomas this, Thomas that
Hes exhausted.
And Im not?
I regretted it instantly. Margaret loved fairnessher version of it, anyway. Her golden boy could do no wrong, while I was just the workhorse she tolerated.
We rode home in opposite ends of the bus. The next day, she complained to Thomas, and he erupted.
How dare you shout at my mother?! he bellowed. If it werent for her
What? I crossed my arms. I was done.
Youd still be at that measly clinic! he spat, reminding me shed helped me land the hospital jobbetter pay, but with triple the stress and grey hairs. Sometimes I wished Id never left the clinic.
What are you? He froze, watching me.
For once, I did something Thomas never expected.
