30April2025
I still cant shake the memory of that evening when Emma burst into the kitchen, cheeks flushed, demanding to know how I could have been so careless. Harry, how could you? We were both laughing at that dirtylooking village girl! she accused, her voice shaking with anger. I tried to apologise, saying Id had a momentary lapse, that I hadnt meant to end up in Lucys bed. The guilt gnawed at me as I fidgeted with my cigarette.
About a month later a new family moved into the flat opposite ours: Nigel, his wife Lucy, and their fiveyearold daughter Poppy. Were both thirty, our son is six, and the newcomers are twentyfive. Sharing a floor meant we got to know each other quickly.
Lucy was the picture of a diligent country lass, forever in the kitchen. Cakes, scones and pies seemed to be her true calling, and she would waddle in like a barrel full of flour. Harry and I had taken to teasing her, calling her Muffin because of her round, soft figure. Her kitchen was a shrine to preserves, jars stacked from floor to ceilingsomething I could never match.
I liked to think of myself as a wellkept gentleman, whereas Lucy was forever in a threadbare dressing gown, her hair tied in a short knot. Her husband Nigel, thin as a reed, was a longhaul trucker, often away on the road. Hed first spotted Lucy in a tiny village shop, buying cigarettes, and shed instantly set her sights on the lanky stranger. He never stood a chance of slipping unnoticed.
Nine months later, Lucy gave birth to a baby girl, and Nigel drove both Lucy and the child into town. When I introduced my sudden, makeshift family to my mother, she flatly refused to acknowledge the country Lucy or the newborn granddaughter. Nigel had to rent a separate flat.
Harry was always vocal about Lucys appearance. How can you not love yourself? A woman should, he would mutter to me, halfheartedly.
Then my mother fell ill, a lingering cough that kept her in bed. At first Emma and I took turns caring for her, but soon we realised we needed help. Lucy offered, saying shed work a few hours for us in exchange for a small gifta rubber boat for Nigels fishing trips. Just keep it a surprise from him, she chirped, delighted at the chance to earn a little extra.
Lucy, dont overfeed my mother. She has no appetite because of her illness, I warned her. Soon after, work sent me away on a long assignment. I gave instructions to Emma, our son, and Lucy, then left for another city.
A month later I returned. Harry avoided my eyes, and Lucy kept her distance. My son, bouncing from the doorway, shouted, Mum, make the same tasty chips as Aunt Lucys, and I loved her meatball! I asked cautiously, Did Aunt Lucy treat you? He answered, She brought Poppy over, but Dad took her away. I began to suspect something wasnt right. Nigel was on a delivery route, I was still on a work trip
That evening, after feeding Harry a hearty dinner, I pressed him for the truth. Emma, I know everything. The boy told me everything, I said, hoping hed confess. He replied calmly, Nothing happened. Lucy just asked me to fix the tap. I breathed a sigh of relief, Come on, relax. It was just a misunderstanding. Im not going to make a scene about Lucy.
Nevertheless, Harry started visiting his mother more often, lingering at her bedside. When I went to see her, she was calm and tidy, but alone. I looked for my husband and Muffin
I knocked on Lucys flat. A tired Lucy opened the door, and in the background my exhausted husband lay in bed. I, trying to keep my composure, turned and went back home, my mind in turmoil. How could Harry, whod once mocked Lucy as a slovenly cook, be so intimate with her?
When Harry stormed back in, I pointed bluntly at the bathroom. Take a shower. Wash yourself thoroughly! Got a laugh out of that? Ill tell Nigel everything. Hell have a field day with you, I threatened, halfsmiling, imagining Nigels fists flying at Harrys nose.
Lucy eventually confessed her affair to Nigel. I have no idea how the proud trucker reacted, but within a week the whole household fell apart. As Nigel left, he spotted me and said, No wonder this happened. Who could resist my Lucy?
Months later I ran into Muffin on the high street. Hey, love! Still holding a grudge? she asked. Never mind. In our little village were all tangled up. I havent lost a penny, and your husbands still smiling. Youre always away on assignments you cant leave a hungry husband for too long, she reminded me, quoting some old country wisdom.
Looking back, I realise that jealousy and suspicion only breed more trouble. Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild, and meddling in others lives brings nothing but heartache. The lesson Ill carry forward is simple: keep communication clear, respect the boundaries of those around you, and never let doubt fester into resentment.
