Youre leaving! Molly tells her husband.
Molly Redbrook is doing a thorough spring clean for the holidays and discovers a USB stick. Its tucked behind the armchair, in the corner by the heater, almost invisible, like a hidden duty. Molly crawls around the floor, wiping every nook, and finally spots the gadget.
The house is buzzing with festive spirit the New Years Eve vibe is in the air, the tree is waiting to be lit, candles flicker on the mantle, and everything feels suddenly lively and pleasant.
The Christmas tree is still bare; Molly hasnt had time to decorate it. Her husband, Liam, isnt much help either.
You know, love, Im hopeless at untangling and hanging the lights, he admits, struggling to place the ornaments symmetrically.
Whats the problem, Len? Molly asks, smiling. Just use the trunk as the axis; branch out left and right. Hang a bauble on the left, then on the right, and fill any gaps. Its simple.
Liam cant see the axis at all. One side ends up a tangled heap of baubles, the other is empty a classic case of clumsy décor.
If you dont like it, do it yourself! Liam snaps, oddly pleased with his excuse. The same refrain repeats: if she doesnt like it, she does it; if she doesnt like the cooking, she cooks. Molly ends up doing everything herself, saving herself from endless redoing.
Liam never learned a thing about housework from his mother, but it isnt a huge issue; Molly, like most happy people, is generous. All she really wants is a caring partner, and the rest can be sorted out with a bit of humour.
Molly lives a simple, unpretentious life. She works for a boutique agency that sells and lets out luxury apartments in central London. Penthouse flats and highrise flats are in demand; some clients have empty stomachs, others have tiny pearls of wealth. Money flows in a you earn it, you spend it manner. Molly spends all day hustling to earn enough for bread and butter, oranges, and a fancy red fish I adore you, love!
Liam, however, has a chronic work problem; his parents never taught him responsibility. They have no children yet, so Liam declares, Well live just for ourselves, and starts putting that plan into action.
Liam is a handsome, solidbuilt Englishman, the sort of bloke who would have left home a long time ago. He quit his job three years after they married.
Can you believe it? They demoted me! he says.
What then? Molly asks.
They lowered my rank, not insulted me. Its just a business need, Molly rationalises. Thank God we still have some work.
She urges him to stay on the reduced position, Well only lose a bit of pay, and Im still working, so theres nothing to worry about. He quits in a fit of stubbornness, and his fatherinlaw tries to set him up with a friend, but the job is a fortyminute bus ride, and Molly drives her car for work, so she tells him, Sorry, but youll have to manage.
After two days of frantic effort, Liam slips out.
What now? Back on the couch? his cheeky grandmother asks Molly.
Two more job offers fall through one interview went badly, the other was with a dreadful boss. Liam, with his aristocratic swagger, seems more suited to being a lord than a labourer, created to charm a lady rather than to toil.
Molly loves Liam despite his grandmothers harsh nickname for him, General of the Sofa Troops. Molly defends him, Hes not just lying around at home! Their motherinlaw adds, Its offensive to the state a beautiful, smart girl burdened with a drifter!
Now Liam heads off to the sauna with his mates, leaving Molly alone with the preholiday cleaning. Theres no time to deal with the USB; they own several properties, just in case theres a Pedrov in Brazil, so she tucks the stick into an ashtray. Liam never looks for USB sticks, so it clearly belongs to Molly, who often stores property listings on flash drives. The device stays untouched for a couple of weeks.
Then, as her grandmother says, something tugs at her, and Molly decides to finally check the content maybe theres something useful. Liam goes for a walk; fresh air is good for him.
She begins watching a bizarre video a mix of hot tango, Thai massage, and some indecent material, according to her grandmother. The lead is Liam, paired with a synchronized dancer. The whole scene plays out in Mollys flat, a setting she doesnt recognise.
Its like PoshPoets son! Molly thinks, stopping the clip after a few seconds. So thats what hes up to while Im at work.
The video hints at blackmail by an unnamed prosecutor. Liam, a useless yet attractive man, seems to have some leverage. Molly decides to seek advice and takes a day off, grabs the USB, and drives to her clever friend Lucy, whos as sharp as the famous TV presenter.
Do you think hes a secret agent? Molly asks, hopeful.
Are you seeing things? Lucy replies, noting her own uncle was a sailor, so maritime slang slips in. Your seallike husband as an agent? The best thing he does is lie down! Agents have to move.
Lucy suggests, Find a woman! and offers a sip of her tea. Start flirting or whatever you call it.
Molly wonders why she should upload the footage online. Lucy answers, People post everything online, just like that famous footballer who uploaded his whole life.
Molly finally watches the video to the end. The final scene shows a womans voice saying, If you want to discuss this, call me, and a phone number appears on a scrap of paper.
Its an AmericanEuropean number! Lucy exclaims. That explains the mystery.
Molly dials it, arranges a meeting at a café, and brings Lucy along, promising to act as her lawyer and keep her from making rash decisions. She decides shell give Liam a firm push, sending his belongings to his mothers flat.
At the café, a pretty woman of Mollys age stands up and declares, We love each other, let him go! You saw how much we care for each other.
Molly, unimpressed, retorts, You think Im holding him? The woman asks what Liam said; Molly replies, Hes taking all his money, so we dont want a divorce. The friends exchange glances, the story getting stranger.
Its a lie, dear, Molly says coldly. Take him if you wish! The woman, shocked, asks, Can we just take him? Molly agrees, Take whatever you want, then wait for his stuff tonight.
Molly gathers Liams belongings and places his bag in the hallway. When Liam wakes, she tells him, Youre leaving!
But you know I cant shop for groceries! Liam protests, thinking shes sending him to the shop. Go yourself then!
The room is warm and cosy; the tree, now decorated by Mollys hands, glows in the corner. A film runs on the TV the usual postNewYear routine. Baptism day approaches, the weather turns chilly, the thermometer dips, and its time for an afternoon snack crumpets with jam.
Molly repeats, Im not sending you to the shop!
Where then? Liam asks.
To wherever you can best show what youre good at! she replies.
To Mums? he suggests, as his mothers house is his favourite retreat.
To theaunts! Molly snaps. To the one who does those amazing balancing tricks! She switches on a movie.
Liam freezes the interior looks like something out of a period drama, not his usual flat. He wonders what she slipped into his pocket. He pulls out the USB, tucked inside a handkerchief Liam, a true aesthete, always uses cloth handkerchiefs.
Molly challenges him, Say something clever! Like, youre not really you, youre an actor under hypnosis or drugs! She recalls the prosecutors rant, He fought like a lion; Im not him, and that horse isnt mine!
She asks, Whats worse than a prosecutor? A real macho alpha male! Look at those legs and ankles! Liam stays silent; he isnt a fool, and leaving Molly isnt his plan, especially not for a council flat.
Mollys daytoday antics suit her, especially for idle evenings. She wonders how much effort went into filming the clip. Does anyone love him that much? she muses.
Liam lies, claiming Mollys filing for divorce, stealing money, even beating her. Hes a big bloke, over six foot tall, and Molly remembers Lucys sailor uncle, saying, Seven feet under the keel, sail away!
Liam begs, Will you forgive me?
No, Molly answers.
Pancakes? Liam blurts out.
Molly, shocked, retorts, If you deserve pancakes, theyll be cowflavoured. She tells him, Row without pancakes, Admiral Nelson; its hard to steer a full stomach! She pulls the USB from her laptop, A bonus from the firm show it to mum, like Stallone!
Liam leaves, destination unknown, and Molly no longer cares. The tree flickers, the TV hums, the old sofa sits empty. Thats the end, she says, as if reading a French novel. The phone rings his motherinlaw pleads, Bring him back, we need the good lad! But Liam didnt return to the council flat; he went back to his mothers oneroom flat.
Feeding a healthy, nonworking man with a big appetite proved hard. Take him back, Molly? his mother asks.
Molly, having blocked all numbers, thinks of her wise grandmothers words, Good riddance to that lass! She files for divorce.
Its truly the end, and a surprise for Liam and his mother. What did they expect? Crumpets with jam, not a motherinlaws drama.
