A week on his own would have softened her like fresh silk, but when he saw what had happened in that time, he froze the moment he crossed the doorstep.
Poppy hadnt been herself lately. Cracks were forming in her marriage to Tom, and she was at a loss in the miserable tugofwar. It all started with little things, as it usually does.
After work Tom began peppering her with cutting remarks. His jokes were laced with venom; each word hit harder than a punch. Day by day his behaviour worsened, even on holiday he never gave her a moments peace.
Look at you, you look like an old crone! hed bark, glued to his mobile. Other blokes have wives who look like proper ladies, and mines turned into a shriveled prune!
Sure enough, Poppy did look older than her years. Her job was demanding and left its mark on her face. Hearing that from her own husband hurt the most. She earned about twice as much as Tom, so he had no excuse to complain about money.
Tom spent his cash however he liked, never asking anyone else: Where I want, Ill spend! He had no children to save for.
Poppy put up with that too. They werent officially married, but they lived as a couple and werent in any rush to tie the knot. Still, Toms mum, Margaret, had long called Poppy a daughterinlaw, and Poppy called her Muminlaw.
Muminlaw was a meddlesome, neversatisfied sort who was always sticking her nose into the young couples business, and most of her nagging fell on Poppy.
They lived in a semidetached house on the outskirts of Birmingham. Even though they were in the city, the garden needed constant attention. Poppy often begged Tom for help:
I just cant keep up Im at work from dawn till dusk!
Whats it to me? Tom would snap. Its your house, youre the head of it, what does that make me?
And indeed, in winter the garden was buried under drifts until Poppy took a shovel to it herself. In summer it grew so tall it nearly brushed the windows. She hired gardeners now and then, only to finish the work after a long day herself, while Tom lounged on the sofa and only occasionally popped his head out to see if anything was getting done.
Poppy forgave a lot, but the final straw came when she walked in after a grueling shift, legs dragging, a heavy shopping bag slung over her shoulder. Shed hoped Tom would meet her at the door she even rang, but he didnt answer. Sighing and wiping the sweat from her brow, she heard music drifting from the back garden.
She dropped the bag at the gate and hurried inside, where a raucous disco was in full swing. Inside, resentment and anger boiled; tonight she was determined to let it all out.
The house was a proper party: blaring music rattled the windows, the table was laden with snacks and a hot meal Poppy had prepared earlier so she wouldnt have to fuss in the evening. Tom, oblivious to his wife, was dancing with a woman who had clearly overindulged and was dressed rather provocatively.
Without a word, Poppy slipped through the crowd and switched the music off.
Tom stared, his eyes clouded. What are you doing? he asked, stumbling.
This is what I wanted to ask you! Whats going on? Whos that woman?
His dancing partner kept moving as if nothing had happened.
Whats the big deal? Tom sneered. Just an old school friend were having a little catchup. Or am I not allowed to relax in my own house?
If you remember, you once said this is my home and you have no say in it. So clear her out now, send your guest packing, and then well talk!
I wont! Tom tried to stand, but he swayed.
By now Poppy was repulsed. He had long ceased to be a man in her eyes; he was just a burden. Living with him out of fear of loneliness? No, thank you!
Grabbing the other woman by the elbow, Poppy ushered her toward the gate. Your turn to go!
She turned back to Tom. Are you going to escort her out, or are you leaving yourself?
Tom shrugged, snatched a bowl of salad and a bottle from the table, and staggered toward the door.
Live without me, youll call, you drama queen! he shouted as he left.
Mum! Oh dear, my head is splitting! his mother wailed, clutching her temples.
Mum, dont shout! Poppy chased me out. She was angry I didnt meet her, Tom lied, knowing his mother would side with him.
Whats there to meet? she asked, puzzled.
Who knows! Shes always finding fault: this, that! Im exhausted at work, you think its easy for me? Why should I be helping around a house that isnt mine?
Exactly! Margaret encouraged. Let him sort out his share of the house first, then he can ask. Hes acting all highandmighty! She should manage on her own!
Thats what I told her! And she got offended!
Let her be offended! Dont give in! She wants to get married shell just have to put up with it. Shes not a little girl any more!
So what am I supposed to do now? Tom asked, his head hanging low.
Hang in there, love! Shell crawl back like a little kitten, begging you to take her back! A week alone will make her realise what shes done. And when she comes back, demand the proper paperwork. Otherwise shell be on her own!
Thus the motherinlaw gave Tom her sage advice on handling Poppy. He nodded along, agreeing with each word.
Youre right, Mum! I wont put up with her whims any longer! Who does she think she is, ordering me around? Im not a servant; Im a grown man, my own master!
Following his mothers counsel, Tom actually vanished. He didnt appear at home, didnt call Poppy, and waited exactly a week.
Meanwhile Margarets own life wasnt a picnic. She kept nagging Tom: do this, do that. When he tried to push back, she reminded him of the oldfashioned discipline shed learned as a child, slapping a wooden spoon on his back.
Youre not at your wifes place, youre at your mothers! Skip work and you wont get lunch! she snapped, no nonsense.
Finally, after seven days of endurance, Tom mustered the courage to go home. Im coming, Mum! Ill see how shes coping without me. Shell be crawling on her knees, begging me to return!
Go, go! Dont give up! Speak clearly youll only get back on your own terms!
He strutted out, chin up, shoulders back, feeling like a champion ready to prove who ran the show.
He reached the gate, stepped onto the lawn and stopped dead.
Something was off. He looked around: the garden was immaculate, the grass trimmed like a ruler, windows sparkled, flower beds were pruned, paths were spotless no sign of neglect.
Even the gate was brand new, sturdy and reliable, not the squeaky old one hed known.
He fumbled for his key, realised it no longer fit. After a moments hesitation he knocked confidently.
Inside, footsteps halted, then the door swung open.
But it wasnt the Poppy hed left. She was freshfaced, smiling, eyes alight.
I thought youd be the one sulking here, suffering At least give me a call! she said, tilting her head playfully.
Why would I? she replied, breezy.
How why? Tom snapped. Youve vanished for a week, and you dont even bother?
I dont have a husband, she said calmly.
Where would he come from? she laughed. There was one visitor once a flop. No point dwelling on that!
Toms face turned a shade of crimson. Is that you talking about me?! Youll get a slap and a lecture! I shouldve raised you better!
He took a step forward, but she didnt flinch.
From the doorway a tall man placed a hand on her shoulder and said firmly, Hey, lad, off you go. And make it quick.
This who? A lover? Tom demanded, trying to sound generous. If you kick him out, Ill forgive you and come back! I promise not to hit!
Then reality hiccupped. Time seemed to glitch one moment he was standing, the next he was sprinting as if chased by devils, with someone inexplicably boosting his speed.
Poppy stood on the porch laughing till she cried, watching her older brother chase Tom off the property, giving him a couple of wellaimed nudges.
When Tom finally made it past the gate, her brother slammed it shut and turned to her.
Poppy, dont ever think about taking that fool back! I still dont get how you put up with him!
She sighed deeply. I was a fool, thats why I endured. I kept hoping hed change.
You cant change a broken thing, you just end up with a sore neck! If you need help around the house, call me, Ill come over. And as for him, let him learn that this is his last stop.
What if he doesnt get the message?
Hell get it twice, her brother winked, and they stepped inside together.
Inside, guests were still watching the scene through the windows, glasses raised.
Heres to the birthday girl! someone shouted.
To the birthday girl! the crowd answered, and the clink of glasses rang out.
Poppy smiled. How wonderful it was to have a caring, strong older brother always there for you.
