31October
I still cant believe how quickly the weekend turned into a whirlwind. Yesterday Tom told me, grinning, that Mark and Claire were heading our way for a few days. Can you imagine? he said, phone in hand. I laughed, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves. Its been about five years since I last saw themsince we all left the northeast and tried to make something of ourselves in London.
Mark has been griping nonstop about how everything in his hometown is going downhill. We finally got out of that swamp, hed say, while you two seem to be thriving. I asked Tom where theyd stay, and he winked, I thought they could crash at ours. Youre okay with that, arent you? I hesitated a moment, then nodded. If theyve already made plans without me, Ill just make sure we give them a proper capitalcity weekendshow them how life can be decent if you work for it. Pride swelled in me; Tom and I have managed to settle, to earn, to live comfortably. The skeptics in our old town always said wed never make it.
I spent the whole Friday sprucing up the flat. I washed every surface, swapped the old duvet for fresh linen, even bought a warm throw and a couple of new pillows so the guests wouldnt shiver on the sofa. It felt more like preparing for close family than for casual visitors.
Saturday morning the intercom buzzed. A minute later Mark and Claire stood in the hallway. Mark was in an old tracksuit that would have been out of fashion in London a decade ago; Claire wore tight jeans and a cheap tee, looking both tired and a little annoyed.
Come in, dear guests, Tom greeted, trying to sound cheerful.
Mark tossed his battered trainers aside, showing off holey socks. Even better than I imagined, he said with a grin.
Claire lingered, eyes scanning the flat. Is this yours? she asked.
No, we bought it with a mortgage, Tom replied. Shall we head to the kitchen? Tea or coffee?
Coffee, Claire said.
I could do something stronger, Mark added, tapping Tom on the shoulder.
After about an hour the atmosphere loosened. The conversation drifted from work to life.
This place feels completely different, I said, watching them sip their drinks.
The air even seems fresher, and people actually smile here, Claire added.
Mark chuckled. Why wouldnt they smile? Theres at least something worth living for. He sighed, Back where we are, theres no decent pay, no real jobs.
I set a bowl of fruit and a homemade apple cake on the table.
Tom, Mark began over dinner, do you know of any vacancies at your firm? Im fed up working for peanuts.
Ill see, Tom said, were actually recruiting right now. Ill put in a word, but I cant promise anything.
Would you consider moving? With the kids? I asked, more hopeful than I felt.
Claire tasted the cake, then hesitated. Wed love to, but we have two kidsour elder just started at nursery. Weve fought hard to get a place there, and we dont have the money for a move.
If it helps, Tom offered, Pauls flat in the city centre has a spare room. Two lads per room; theyre not complaining.
I caught a flicker of doubt in Toms eyes, but he brushed it aside with a forced smile.
You know, I dont want us living apart, Claire whispered, but it all depends on prospects and salaries.
Monday they left. Mark sent his CV to Tom, and a couple of weeks later everything fell into place. Tom kept his wordhe talked to his manager and recommended Mark. He got a probationary contract, not the top position, but a respectable salary and room for growth.
Mate, I owe you one, Mark said one evening, bringing over a bottle of red. My situation at home is hopeless. This is my chance.
Just dont let it slip, Tom replied, uncorking the wine.
I watched from the kitchen, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and unease. At first everything seemed fine; Mark would pop round for tea, chat about his new role, and stay in the shared flat with his colleagues.
Mark, hows Claire? How are the kids? I asked out of habit.
The kids are great. I sent them money for new toys. Claire isnt thrilled Im away, but Im glad for a bit of freedom from her constant nagging, he admitted after a few glasses.
I sighed, Longdistance relationships are tough. Youll both miss each other more, I suppose.
Two weeks later Mark returned, this time with Claire and the children.
Were here for the weekend, Claire announced, as if it had been prearranged. The kids havent seen their dad in ages! And we havent seen you lot either.
I was taken aback; it had been a year, maybe two, since wed met. I managed a smile. Come in, Ive roasted a chicken.
Where are you staying? Tom asked.
In a hotel, Claire sighed. Its pricey, but we cant afford anything else. We need to see each other now and then, otherwise hell forget what I look like.
What, which winered or white? Tom asked halfjokingly, his hospitality becoming routine.
Claire laughed, We wont be long. Could you watch the kids for a bit? We need a moment alone.
Tom looked at me, shrugged, and I could see he understood the strain of looking after strangers children. Fine, one time wont hurt, I said, trying to keep the tone light. Make yourself at home. They say you can earn decent money looking after kids.
We all laughed, and the children settled in with Tom and me. Nothing disastrous happened; the young couple were exhausted but felt a bit like heroes for not abandoning their friends. Their visits became a regular thingClaire would pop over almost every week, asking to mind the children for a few hours, a day, or even a whole Saturday.
My husband works up north, she would explain, I need these meetings. Please, you have no kids right now, so its easy for you.
After the third request I finally said, Thats enough.
The nursery is closing, we have plans, she replied.
Youre moving out? I asked, surprised.
She brightened, Great! Hand us the keys; well stay a week or two. Hotels are too expensive, and my husband wont pay for my trips.
No, were leaving for a day and then coming back. Where do you want us to stay? I retorted.
We have two spare rooms. We wont be a bother. Were practically family.
The argument that followed left Tom and me almost at odds. He defended her, saying perhaps she was stressed, maybe dealing with a move, maybe hormonal. I snapped, Shes being pushy! We dont have to host them forever! Call Mark and tell his wife to back off.
Tom hesitated, That doesnt feel right.
Are they behaving? I pressed.
He shrugged, but later that night he called Mark, and Claire backed offat least for a while. She then switched tactics, messaging Tom.
Hey, could you do me a favour? I need to check his phone does he talk to anyone else?
When Tom refused, she wrote again, Then at least drop by his place. See if theres any womens stuff in his room.
Tom seriously, talk to him. Hes drifting away, Im scared. I think hes got someone else! she begged, sending endless texts, voice notes, tearfilled messages.
Tom tried to hide the exchanges, deleting them, retreating to another room to talk. One evening I caught a glimpse of a long message from Claire to Mark, demanding he investigate his own phone.
My heart raced. What are you hiding? Is she a friend now or are you spying for Mark? I demanded.
Im not spying! Tom stammered. Shes just persistent. I thought maybe, since shes my friends wife, I should help.
I told him, Youre letting her use you as a pawn. You cant just say yes to everything. Its shameful you hide this from me.
He apologized, deleted the messages, blocked her number. After that, Claire finally called him and he told her he wouldnt play detective any more. She sulked, accusing me of ruining their friendship. If you keep pressuring, Ill tell Mark.
She eventually fell silent.
Mark found out about the messages from me and was furious. One night, after a few glasses of wine, he confronted Tom. Shes been feeding you lies, hasnt she? Im sorry youve been dragged into this. My home is a mess without options, so Im glad this chance came.
Im sorry, I should have told you earlier, Tom admitted, finally ending the saga.
From then on Mark and Claire disappeared from our lives. Tom and I went back to our routine, took a short break, visited our parents in the countryside, and even ran into Claire on the high streetshe didnt even say hello. Rumour had it theyd split; apparently Claire had found someone while Mark was in London, and his wife turned out to be unfaithful herself.
Sometimes I wonder how quickly hospitality can become a burden, and how easy it is to let others problems creep into yours. Yet, looking back, Im grateful for the brief chaosit reminded me how precious stability is, and how easily it can be shaken when you open your door too widely.
