«You can go back to your village,» said my husband when I lost my job.
«Grace, why so quiet? The soups getting cold.» William tapped his spoon against the edge of the bowl, eyeing his wife with irritation.
Grace slowly raised her head and set her phone aside. Shed spent the day calling everyone she knew, searching for any kind of work, but the answer was always the sameno positions, recession, cutbacks.
«Sorry, I was lost in thought,» she murmured, picking up her spoon and tasting the vegetable stew shed made that morning, just the way William liked it. Now, the effort felt pointless.
«Whats on your mind?» he asked between spoonfuls, glancing at her. «Still about work?»
«What else would it be?» She sighed, pushing her plate away. «Louise said theyre laying people off in her department too. And Sarah from accounting hasnt worked in three months.»
«Oh, come on!» William waved a hand dismissively. «Youll find something. Theres plenty of time.»
«Will, Im forty-three. Whos going to hire me at this age? Everyone wants younger peoplegraduates with computer skills. What do I know? Ive worked in shops my whole life, behind a counter.»
«So what? Its honest work.» He finished his stew and reached for the bread. «This breads stale. When did you buy it?»
Grace stayed silent. Shed bought it two days ago, cutting corners wherever she could. Since being laid off from the supermarket, their budget had tightened. Wills wages from the construction site werent much, and even those were often late.
«Maybe you should visit Emma?» he suggested suddenly. «Stay with her for a week or two, take your mind off things. Ill manage here on my own.»
Emma was Graces younger sister, living in London, working as a manager in some big firm. She rarely called, only on holidays.
«Why would I go there? Shes got her own life, her own family. And we dont have the money for train fare.»
«Well figure it out.» William stood and walked to the window. «Listen, maybe you should go stay with your mum for a while. In the countryside. At least theres homegrown potatoes, fresh milk. You wont go hungry.»
Grace froze, spoon in hand. Her mother lived in Littlebrook, a hundred kilometers from the city. She hadnt been back in three years, not since her uncles funeral. The village was dying, barely any young people leftjust pensioners.
«Are you serious? The countryside?» She stared at him, disbelieving. «What about you?»
«What about me? Ive got work here. I cant just drop everything and come with you. Im the only one bringing in money now.»
«For now,» she corrected quietly.
«Dont twist my words!» William spun around sharply. «Im not saying forever. Stay a month or two, maybe something will turn up here. Whats the point of sitting around doing nothing?»
«Nothing?» Grace stood, clearing the table. «Who cleans the house? Who cooks, washes, waits in line at the clinic when your backs acting up?»
«Well, thats just how it is.» He shrugged. «Thats not what I meant. Its just» He hesitated, scratching his head. «You can go back to your village if you want. Itll be quieter there, no need to worry about work every day.»
The words hit her like a slap. *Back to your village.* As if the city hadnt been her home for the past twenty years. As if she were just a guest here.
*»My* village?» she repeated slowly. «And this houseisnt it mine? Have I just been visiting for twenty years?»
«Grace, dont start» He faltered at her tone. «I didnt mean it like that. Its just»
«Youre embarrassed, arent you? A wife without a job, not bringing in any money. Better to send her away so shes not in the way.»
«Dont be ridiculous!» He flopped onto the sofa and turned on the telly. «Im tired after work, and youre making a scene.»
Grace finished the dishes in silence, drying her hands on a towel. His words echoed in her head. *You can go back to your village.* And the way hed said itdismissive, almost relieved.
That night, William fell asleep in front of the telly while Grace lay awake for hours. She remembered how theyd metshe was twenty-three, just moved to the city, renting a room in a shared flat, working as a shop assistant. William had been a laborer at the same store, young, handsome, attentive. Hed courted her for six monthsflowers, cinema dates. After the wedding, they rented a flat, then took out a mortgage. Grace moved to a bigger supermarket, became senior sales assistant, then department manager.
And now? He was telling her to leave, like an unwanted thing.
«Mum, why are you calling so late?» Her daughter Lilys sleepy voice came through the phone.
«Sorry, love, I didnt realize the time. How are you?»
«Fine. Whats wrong? You sound off.»
Lily lived in the next town over, worked at a bank, recently married. They rarely spoke, just once a week at most.
«Nothings wrong. Just missed you. Hows James?»
«Hes good. Mum, are you sure youre alright? Your voice sounds different.»
Grace wanted to tell her about the job, about Williams words, but held back. No need to upset the young onesthey had their own problems.
«Everythings fine, love. Go back to sleep.»
«Mum, why dont you come visit? Its been ages.»
«Well see. Sleep tight.»
The next morning, William was unusually affectionatebringing her coffee in bed, kissing her cheek.
«Sorry if I upset you last night. I only want whats best.»
«I know,» she replied flatly.
«Listen, I talked to the lads at work. Steve says his wifes office is looking for an accountant. Might suit you?»
«Im not an accountant.»
«You could learn. Take a course. Willingness is what matters.»
«Courses cost money. A lot of it.»
«Well manage,» he said, waving a hand. «If youre willing.»
Grace *was* willing. She had the energy too. But every morning, scrolling through job listings, she felt more and more obsolete. *»Sales assistant wanted, under 30.» «Manager needed, experience with Excel.» «Sales specialist, under 40.»*
«Sophie, hi,» she called her old coworker from the shop. «Hows things? Any news?»
«Grace! Thought youd forgotten us. Found anything yet?»
«Not yet. What about you?»
«Not good. Two more got laid off last week. Tina and Nina from dairy. They say more cuts are coming.»
«What about Mrs. Thompson?»
«The manager? Shes holed up in her office, pretending everythings fine. But she knows the shops closing. New owner wants to overhaul everything.»
Grace hung up and sat by the window. Outside, kids played, young mums chatted on benches. Life went on, and shed somehow fallen out of it.
«Ill go stay with Mum,» she told William at dinner.
«How long?» He didnt even look up.
«I dont know. A week. Maybe longer.»
«Fine. Have a rest. Ill get the shed sorted while youre gone.»
«The shed?» She blinked. «Youve been saying that for six months.»
«Well, now Ill have time. Be quicker without you fussing over it.»
Grace said nothing. *»Without you fussing.»* Another phrase that lodged in her heart like a splinter.
She packed quicklyjeans, a few jumpers, a warm coat. William saw her off at the bus stop, kissed her goodbye.
«Call me when you get there.»
«I will.»
«Say hi to your mum. Tell her Ill visit soon.»
Grace nodded, though she knew he wouldnt. William hated the countrysidesaid it was dull and full of midges.
The bus to Littlebrook took two hours. She gazed out at rolling fields, patches of woodland, scattered villages. The further from the city, the calmer she felt. Maybe William was right. Maybe she needed thistime away from the bustle.
«Grace, love!» Her mother met her at the door, hugging her tight. «What a surprise! You shouldve calledId have made stew, baked a pie.»
«Last-minute decision, Mum. Missed you.»
Her mother studied her face. Margaret Hayes had always been perceptive.
«Wheres William? Not with you?»
«Too much work. Hell come later.»
«Right.» Her mother nodded, asking no more.
The house was just as Grace rememberedfaded wallpaper, creaky floorboards, the old stove in the corner. But everything felt smaller than in her memories. And the smellhay, fresh milk, woodsmoke.
«You know where everything is,» her mother said. «Make yourself at home. Ill prepare a chicken for dinnercelebrate your visit.»
«Mum, dont bother. Im not hungry.»
«Not hungry, not hungry Youve lost weight. Doesnt William feed you?»
«He does. Im just tired.»
Margaret stroked her daughters hair.
«Talk when youre ready. For now, rest.»
The first few days, Grace did just thatslept late, helped around the house, visited old neighbors. Many were gone now, houses standing empty. The village was fading.
«Remember Alice Reynolds?» her mother asked over tea. «You went to school together.»
«Of course. How is she?»
«Moved to the city ten years back. To be near her son. He put her in a care home. Can you believe it? His own mother!»
«Why?»
«Said he didnt have time for her. Wife works, he works, the kids. She was just in the way.»
Grace shuddered. Like someone walking over her grave.
«What about her house? The animals?»
«Sold it all. Needed the money, apparentlysome loan hed taken.»
«And Alice agreed?»
«What choice did she have? Couldnt manage alone. Big garden, cow, chickens. Shes seventy-five now.»
That evening, Grace walked through the village. She met Miss Wilkins, her old primary teacher, tending her roses.
«Grace, dear! How youve grown!» The elderly woman beamed. «Still remember you reciting poems at assembly. *Little Lucy*»
«I remember, Miss Wilkins. You havent changed a bit.»
«Oh, go on! Im ancient now. Nearly eighty. Still managing alone, though.»
«Your children?»
«In the city. Sons in London, daughter in Manchester. Visit once a year, if that.»
«Dont they call?»
«Oh, on birthdays. Ask if Im still kicking.» Miss Wilkins smiled sadly. «They want me to move, but I cant. My whole lifes here. Every stones familiar.»
Walking home, Grace thought about Miss Wilkins, Alice Reynolds, her own mother. Theyd all been young once, needed, full of plans. Then their children grew up and left. And they remainedalone with their memories.
«Mum, have you ever thought of moving to the city?» Grace asked at dinner.
«Thought about it. Especially in winter when the roads freeze. But where would I go? To you? What if William minds? Your flats small, and Ive got my ways»
«Mum, since when does William decide? Youre my mother. Youre always welcome.»
«I know, love. But best not to test it. I manage fine.»
«And if you get ill? If something happens?»
«Well, if it happens, it happens. I wont be the first or the last.»
Grace wanted to argue but stayed quiet. Williams words echoed again: *You can go back to your village.* And she realizedshe was afraid for her mother. Afraid that one day, she too might hear something like that from her own child.
On the fourth day, William called.
«Hows it going? Hows your mum?»
«Fine. Managing.»
«When are you coming back?»
«Dont know. Might stay a while longer.»
«Seriously? What about the house? What about me?»
«Youll manage. You said youd get more done without me.»
«Grace, I didnt mean»
«Then what *did* you mean?»
A long silence.
«Alright, stay if you must. Just dont be too long. I miss you.»
«Miss me,» she repeated after hanging up.
«Was that William?» her mother asked.
«Yeah.»
«What did he say?»
«He misses me.»
«Do you miss him?»
Grace hesitated. Strangely, she didnt. For the first time in years, she felt at peace. No worrying about dinner, laundry, cleaning. No listening to William complain about work, the boss, life itself.
«Not really, no.»
«I see,» her mother said softly.
«Mum did you and Dad ever argue?»
«Of course. But we made up. He never belittled me, never made me feel unwanted. Respected me.»
«What if he had?»
«Dont know. Never happened.»
That evening, Grace visited Miss Wilkins again. The old teacher sat knitting on her porch.
«Ive been thinking about what we discussed,» she said. «About children. You know what Ive realized? We raised them to take. Never taught them to give.»
«How so?»
«We gave them everythingthe best clothes, the last piece of cake. They grew up thinking Mum would always sacrifice. And when they were grown, they expected the same. *Mum should, Mum must.* Never crossed their minds that Mum might want something too.»
«Should we have done differently?»
«Maybe. Maybe if wed valued ourselves more, they wouldve too.»
Walking home, Grace turned the words over. She *had* givento her parents, William, Lily. And what had she gotten in return? The moment she became unnecessary, she was politely shown the door.
«Mum what if I stayed?» she asked at breakfast.
«Stayed how?»
«Here. With you. Help around the house.»
«And William?»
«William can manage. He said so himself.»
Her mother was silent for a long time. Then, quietly:
«Do *you* want to stay? Or is it just anger talking?»
«I dont know. Honestly. But Im happy here. No one calls me a burden.»
«Love, the countryside isnt an escape. Its a lifea hard one, often lonely. Think carefully.»
«I am. Every day.»
Two days later, William arrived. Grace saw him through the windowhovering at the gate, uncertain. She went out.
«Hi,» he said awkwardly. «How are you?»
«Fine. Why are you here?»
«To take you home. Its time.»
«Time for whom?»
«Grace, enough! This isnt a holiday anymore. Theres stuff to do at home.»
«*Your* stuff?»
«*Our* stuff! Were a family!»
«Family?» She laughed bitterly. «When you told me to come here, were you thinking about family?»
«I wasnt *kicking* you out! I suggested a break!»
«*You can go back to your village*thats a break?»
William floundered. He knew the words had been wrong.
«Maybe I phrased it badly. But I never meant to hurt you.»
«Then what *did* you mean?»
«I meant I wanted you to stop suffering. Stop stressing about work.»
«And now?»
«I want you back. The house isnt the same without you.»
«What if I dont find a job? Will you suggest I come here again?»
«No.»
«Promise?»
«I promise.»
Grace studied his face and knew she didnt believe him. Couldnt. Something between them had broken, and fixing it wouldnt be easy.
«Will if *you* lost your job, would I tell you to leave?»
«Thats different.»
«Why?»
«Because Im the man. The breadwinner.»
«And what am I?»
«Youre my wife. My support.»
«Support,» she echoed. «Needed when useful. Disposable when not.»
«Dont twist my words! Youre not disposable!»
«Then why send me away?»
William had no answer. He didnt even understand why hed suggested itjust seemed easier at the time. Fewer sad eyes, fewer job talks.
«Fine, I was wrong. Im sorry. Come home?»
«No.»
«What do you mean, no?»
«Im not ready. Im happy here. Mum needs help. You said youd manage.»
«Grace, Ive apologized! What else do you want?»
«Nothing. I just need time. To think. About us. About me. About what comes next.»
William stayed the night, then left in the morninghurt and confused. He didnt understand his wife. Shed always been compliant before. Now this stubbornness.
«Love,» her mother said as the bus disappeared, «think it over. Maybe he truly regrets it.»
«Maybe. But Im not ready yet. I need to know who I am without him. If I can stand on my own.»
«Will you look for work here?»
«Yes. The school in town needs a cleaner. Pays low, but its something. And Ill help in the garden this summer.»
«Course you will.»
Grace hugged her mother, resting her head on her shoulder. For the first time in years, she felt at home. *Really* home.
