Well just crash at your place for a couple of months, said my husband, bringing his mother along. Fine, then Ill ring the police, I replied.
No ones going to strip you of your flat? Really? And when your exhusband shows up at the door with his mum and a couple of suitcases, insisting hes entitled to staywhat do you do? Smile and step aside, or summon the courage to slam the door in their faces?
Emma still remembered the last day James left. It was an ordinary Tuesday; she was stirring a stew in her modest kitchen. He simply shoved his things into a duffel and said, Im tired. Thats enough for me. Ive had enough.
He didnt bang the door, didnt shout. He slipped out quietly, as if hed never existed, and his mother followed.
James and Margaret were like two halves of the same rotten apple. Margaret had always mattered more to him than anyone else on the planet, and a daughterinlaw was just a temporary nuisance. Your housekeeping isnt great, my son, shed say whenever she visited. A family without children isnt really a family, shed repeatthough she never wanted grandchildren. She just needed her boy by her side, forever and ever. Maternal love, in a very possessive guise.
Thirteen years together dissolved without a trace.
In the first months after he walked out, Emma waited for a call, a text, anything. Then she stopped. Oddly enough, it became easier for her.
After a year of solitude she grew accustomed to the silence, to her own rhythm, to the fact that no one winced at the scent of her favourite perfume, no one switched off her music midsong, and no one commented on her every move.
In those early months she woke up feeling a void. Then she realised it wasnt emptinessit was freedom. Gradually she began applying makeup each morning, not for anyone else but for herself. She bought bright accent pillows and hung a painting of a tigerwoman that James had once called tasteless.
She learned to love her new life, to love herself.
After their wedding James had said everything was fine, that it was just the two of them. But whenever they visited friends with children, he would change. First hed play with the tots, laugh, then fall silent.
At night they would go to bed backtobackno hugs, no kisses. Emma once suggested, Maybe we should adopt? He just shook his head: I dont want someone elses child. Slowly a wall rose between themnot from fights or scandals, but from silence. Every evening in the same flat, at the same table, in the same bedand infinitely distant from each other.
Back at university she had refused to carry a pregnancy to termshe feared she couldnt juggle studies and a baby. She regretted it every day, especially after learning she would never be able to become a mother.
A knock sounded at the door one Sunday evening. Emma had just stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a large towel. Sundayher day. The day she allowed herself not to be a teacher, just herself, a woman with a bubble bath, a face mask, and a plate of biscuits.
Throwing on her robe, she opened the door and froze, unable to believe her eyes.
There stood James, looking thinner somehow, his hair freshly cut. Behind himMargaret, face triumphant, both lugging bagshe with his familiar duffel, she with two massive trunks.
Hello, James said, scanning Emma from head to toe. You look good.
She instinctively tightened her robe. His gaze was uncomfortably appraising, as if he owned the place.
Moms flat had a burst pipeeverythings flooded. The repairs will take two weeks, maybe a month. Everything needs to dry out and the floors to be redone. Well stay with you. Besides, youre alone, and the flat is practically shared. After all, were husband and wife, technically.
A whole year he hadnt called, hadnt written. And now he stood on her doorstep as if hed left only yesterday.
We wont be long, added Margaret. A couple of months at most, then well be off. You dont mind, Emma?
Dear. It was the first time in thirteen years Margaret had used a pet name. That frightened Emma more than anything.
She felt the old, compliant self stir, ready to say yes, of course, come in. But another self, the one who had learned to live alone, awoke beside her.
No, Emma said.
What? James asked, as if he hadnt heard.
I said no. You will not live here.
Margaret stepped forward, practically wedging herself between Emma and the doorway.
Whats with that look, love? You think we like begging at your door? We have a force majeure. We have nowhere else to go. Besides, you owe James so much. He took you in after your problems others wouldnt have accepted you.
James, move your foot, Emma said through clenched teeth, pressing her weight against the door. Im not joking.
Come on now, he pressed harder, the door swinging wider. Well stay a month or two and then well be off. Its no big deal. Step aside, love.
He reached out to push her shoulder. Emma recoiled.
Just try to touch me.
Margaret seized the moment, shoving her way into the flat, dragging her trunks behind her.
What a performance, girl? she hissed, scanning the hallway. Husbands back home and you act like a witch. And that smell we need to air this place out.
Emma felt her cheeks flame with anger and shametheyd barged into her home and had the audacity to complain!
Get out! Right now! This is my flat! MINE! And you are not living here!
Calm down, James rolled his eyes. Youll wake the neighbours. Well just stay for a couple of months, no ones taking your dump.
Yes, dear, Margaret chimed, shrugging off her coat. No need for hysteria. Better make us some tea.
Margaret let out a caw like a crow: What?! Have you lost your mind? Thats your husband! Your family!
Exhusband, Emma corrected. And certainly not family.
Emma snatched her phone from the bedside table and dialled 999. Her hands shook, but her fingers hit the keys precisely.
Are you insane?! James lunged at her, trying to snatch the phone. What the hell are you doing?
Dont you dare! Emma shoved him back with her free hand. Im calling the police! Youve broken into my flat unlawfully!
Hello, she said into the handset, retreating into the living room. People have broken into my flat. Theyre trying to stay by force. Im frightened! Theyre aggressive! Please send someone!
She quickly gave her address.
Youve lost it?! James looked at his mother. Mom, did you hear that? Shes calling the local officer!
Get out! Emma repeated, brandishing the phone like a weapon. The officer is on his way!
Are you nuts? Margaret clutched her trunks, as if fearing theyd be taken.
This isnt my problem, James spat. Step out of the way, love.
