«Your time is up,» the husband said, pointing to the door.
«That smell again! I asked you not to smoke in the house!» Margaret flung open the windows in the sitting room, angrily swiping the curtains aside. «Good heavens, even the sofa reeks. What will Elizabeth and her husband think when they come for dinner?»
«And what will they think?» Thomas deliberately stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. «They’ll think a proper Englishman lives hereone who enjoys a smoke now and then. Hardly a crime.»
«Proper Englishmen, Thomas Whitmore, smoke in the garden or on the balcony. Not poison their homes with tobacco. My head aches from it.»
«Here we go,» Thomas rolled his eyes. «Twenty-five years living with a husband who smokes, and suddenly it’s a problem. Perhaps it’s the change, my dear Margaret?»
She stiffened, lips pressed tight. Lately, hed taken to jabbing at her agealways hitting the mark.
«What has that to do with anything?» She turned to the window to hide the tears pricking her eyes. «Im only asking for basic respect. Is it so difficult to step outside?»
«Respect?» He scoffed. «And wheres your respect for me? After work, I want to sit in my chair, have a cuppa, and smoke in peace. Not run about like a schoolboy. Its my house, after all!»
«Our house,» she corrected softly.
«Oh yes, ours,» he conceded grudgingly. «Though its my wages that pay the bills. My money that fixes the roof. My savings that bought your new coat.»
Margaret drew a slow breath. Shed heard this a thousand times. True, she hadnt worked in fifteen yearsfirst raising the children, then tending to his ailing mother, then… simply settling into the role of a housewife. And Thomas had grown used to holding it over her.
«I dont wish to quarrel,» she said wearily. «Just please smoke on the balcony. Elizabeth has asthmaits difficult for her to breathe.»
«Fine,» he relented unexpectedly. «For your precious Elizabeth, Ill step outside. But only today.»
He rose from his chair and headed to the bedroom, tossing over his shoulder, «And why invite them, anyway? Ive an important meeting tomorrowI need rest, not to entertain your dull friends.»
«Theyre more than friends,» Margaret countered. «Henry is head librarianhe might help me find work.»
Thomas halted in the doorway and turned slowly.
«What work?»
She hesitated. Shed meant to tell him later, once things were settled. Now she had no choice.
«Id like a position at the library,» she said, forcing steadiness into her voice. «Three days a week, just a few hours. The children are grown, youre always at the officeI need something to occupy myself.»
«And wholl tend the house?» he cut in. «Wholl cook, clean, mend?»
«Ill manage,» she tried to smile. «Its not a full day. The children hardly visit now, and meals»
«Rarely the children, but your mother turns up weekly,» he grumbled. «Always expecting roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.»
«Mum helps with the chores,» Margaret protested. «And she doesnt visit that often.»
«Couldnt care less if she came daily,» he waved a hand. «But this work notionits nonsense. Youre forty-seven, Margaret. What job? Stay home, tend your garden or your embroidery… your little books.»
«My little books?» A spark of indignation flared. «Thomas, have you forgotten I read English at Oxford? That I taught literature before the children came?»
«Oh, taught, did you?» He dropped back into his chair. «That was twenty years ago. Times change. What use is your degree now?»
«The library,» she repeated stubbornly. «I dont want riches. Just purpose. Company. To feel Im more than a housemaid ironing your shirts.»
«Charming,» he sneered. «So home and family mean nothing? Unworthy of a clever woman like you?»
«You know thats not what I meant,» she sighed, exhausted by the old argument. «Well discuss this later. The guests will be here soon.»
She retreated to the kitchen, heart pounding. Every conversation with Thomas lately became a battle. She didnt know when it startedonly that one day, theyd begun speaking different languages. He no longer heard her.
Once, it had been different. Theyd met at universityboth studying literature, both in love with words. Thomas wrote poetry; Margaret adored it. Then came marriage, first Emily, then James. Thomas joined a publishing house, rose steadily. Margaret stayed homewith the children, the chores, the books that grew dustier each year.
She hadnt noticed the change in him. How the dreamy young man became a weary cynic, lingering late at work, indifferent to her thoughts. By the time she saw it, they were strangers sharing a roof.
Elizabeth and Henry arrived promptly at seven. Henry, a burly man with a greying beard, launched into politics with Thomas. Elizabeth, birdlike and quick, followed Margaret to the kitchen.
«How did Thomas take the news?» she asked, slicing carrots.
«He refused.»
«What did you expect?» Elizabeth shrugged. «Men despise changeespecially when it threatens their comfort.»
«Nothing would change,» Margaret pulled a casserole from the oven. «Id still keep housejust be gone a few hours a week.»
«To him, thats catastrophe,» Elizabeth chuckled. «Imaginecoming home to an empty house! The horror!»
They laughed, and Margaret felt tension ease. Elizabeth always steadied her.
Dinner began civilly. Thomas was amiable, joking, asking Henry about new novels. Margaret dared to hopeperhaps hed softened.
«Speaking of books,» Elizabeth turned to Margaret. «Have you told Thomas about our plan?»
«What plan?» Thomas looked up.
«I» Margaret hesitated. «We thought I might lead a childrens reading group. At the library.»
«And when was this to begin?» Thomass voice turned sharp.
«Next month,» Elizabeth answered blithely. «Twice weekly, two hours. Barely any time.»
«Fascinating,» Thomas set down his fork. «Did you mean to consult me?»
«I tried today,» Margaret said softly.
«Dont recall a proper discussion,» Thomas addressed the guests. «You see, Margarets lately obsessed with working. At her age, its… unwise.»
«Why so?» Henry frowned. «Margaret is highly educated. We need such minds.»
«Perhaps,» Thomas nodded. «But she has dutiesto her home, her husband.»
«Thomas,» Margaret flushed with shame. «Not before guests.»
«Why not?» His gaze swept the table. «Were adults. Ill be plain: I forbid my wife to work. Full stop.»
Silence fell. Elizabeth glanced helplessly at Henry, who cleared his throat.
«Excellent casserole, Margaret. Lizzy must have the recipe.»
«Of course,» Margaret forced out, humiliation coiling inside her.
The evening limped onweather, news, anything but work. When the guests left, Margaret cleared the table in silence.
«How long did you mean to deceive me?» Thomas loomed in the doorway.
«I wasnt deceiving you,» she stacked plates. «I waited for the right moment.»
«And when was that? After youd started?»
«I dont understand your anger,» she turned to him. «Its just a jobnot an affair, not a crime.»
«To me, its betrayal,» he snapped. «We agreed youd keep house while I provided. That was the bargain.»
«Twenty years ago!» she cried. «The children are grown. I need purpose!»
«And home isnt purpose?» He stepped closer. «Say it plainlyyoure tired of being my wife? Want freedom? New… acquaintances?»
«What nonsense!» She gaped. «This is about fulfillment»
«I know that word,» he cut in. «Ive seen fulfilled women at the press. First its work, then flirtations, then divorce.»
«Good God, Thomas,» she stared. «You think Id take a lover among dusty books and elderly librarians?»
«I think nothing,» he said coldly. «I forbid this. Thats final.»
Something in her snapped. This was the endof hope, perhaps of their marriage as shed known it.
«Then Ill work anyway,» she said quietly. «Ill ring Henry tomorrow and accept.»
Thomas blinked.
«What did you say?»
«Im taking the job,» she repeated, feeling oddly light. «Not for money or company. To feel human againnot just a housemaid.»
«I see,» he nodded slowly. «Youve decided. Without me.»
«I tried deciding with you. You wouldnt listen.»
«Fine,» he turned on his heel.
She heard him pacing, muttering. Then he returned, holding her handbag and coat.
«Your time is up,» he said, pointing to the door. «Make decisions alone, live alone. Get out.»
«Youre throwing me out over a library job?»
«Im throwing you out for betrayal,» he spat. «For breaking our bargain. For putting yourself before family.»
«What self, Thomas?» Tears welled. «Its a small job to keep from going mad! Youre never home, the children are goneam I to bake cakes in an empty house?»
«Take up knitting!» he roared. «A deals a deal. I work, you keep house. Simple.»
He thrust the coat at her.
«If I bore you, go. Perhaps darling Elizabeth will take you in.»
Mechanically, she slipped on the coat. It felt unrealtheyd quarreled before, but hed never cast her out.
«You mean this?» She searched his face. «Over a job?»
«I mean it,» he said coldly. «Go.»
She took a breath and stepped to the door, then turned.
«The saddest part? You never asked why I need this. You just forbade melike property, not a wife.»
«Why, then?» he challenged.
«Because I fear being left with nothing,» she said softly. «That one day you wont come homeyoull leave me for that young editor you linger with nightly. And Ill be aloneno work, no means, no purpose. Because I gave everything to this family. To you.»
Thomas recoiled.
«What rot? What editor?»
«Claire,» she said calmly. «She calls each evening. Sometimes you step outside so I wont hear. But walls are thin, Thomas. And my ears are sharp.»
She turned and left, gently closing the door. The stairwell was quiet, save for faint jazz from upstairsthe neighbors evening ritual.
Outside, the night air was cool after the days heat. She inhaled deeply and felt an odd relief, as though shedding a weight carried for years.
Pulling out her phone, she dialed Elizabeth.
«Lizzy? Its Margaret. Sorry for the hour… Yes, we talked. May I come? Now?»
Walking to the bus stop, she marveled at lifes turns. That morning, shed imagined decades more in that house, with that man. Now she walked into the nightfree, uncertain, but strangely unafraid.
Her phone buzzedThomass name flashed. She hesitated, then declined the call and powered it off.
Her time was indeed up. The time of fear, of silence. Now began something newterrifying, but hers alone. And she was ready.
