Make sure you prepare something special for the Neill family today, or order itjust no clichés! Natalie Whitaker ties a silk scarf around her neck, adds the final touches to her powersuit look, and hands out the days household orders to her husband. Theres a layer of dust on the balcony; if we dont clean, the laptop will disappear under it. Wipe it down.
Since you stopped working from home the dust has built up, Andrew Whitaker replies calmly as he steps out of the kitchen, a kitchen towel draped over his broad shoulder, a freshly washed childrens mug in his hand, and an apron over his cotton tee. He reaches for Natalie to plant a quick kiss on her cheekher lips already glossybut she brushes him away, irritated.
Do I have to be the one mucking about at home? Isnt the office enough? she snaps.
When you were home we at least saw you, he says.
Thank heavens thats over, Natalie says, slinging her handbag strap over her shoulder with a puff of pride. Clear the table, do the laundry, vacuum, gather the toys, cook dinnermeet everyones needs! And a thankyou would be nice.
Come off it! No need to haul the washing to the river; the dishwasher does its job, the robot vac handles the floor, and the girls he sighs, theyre just being kids.
Fine, if you think thats how it should be. Im more useful at the office than at home. Someone has to earn the money, Natalie retorts, then swings the front door shut.
Natalies mornings are scheduled to the minute: up at six, a quick jog (shes taken up running), contrast shower, a bite to eat, makeup and hair on the go. The London traffic is a nightmare, but she leaves early, assuming nothing at home will hold her up.
A year ago Andrews mornings were similar, except he skips the workout and lingers a few minutes in the warm bed with his wife. His job is a short walk away, so he never worries about jams. By six or seven hes home, helping Natalie with dinner or tidying up, playing with the girls, often tucking them in, then rescuing toys or straightening the lounge.
Everything changes that year. The younger daughter, Lily, is in nursery for the second year; the endless runny nose phase is finally behind them. The older daughter, Charlotte, is in Year4 and walks home from the nearby primary school alone, even catching the tram to dance class by herselfAndrew taught her the twostop route.
Natalie is offered a return to her old office job. She mulls it over: home life is decent, but she craves the buzz of the office, the social scene. A fasttrack promotion is promised, and she accepts.
Three months later she lands her first raise, then a second, and with the perks comes a flexible schedule she loves. The girls hardly see her, but Andrew explains the situation. Natalie cant keep up as housewife, mother, and beloved wife; she arrives home exhausted and late.
They sit down and discuss the strain. Andrew isnt going to gripe; he knows theres no talk of her quitting. They decide to swap roles: Natalie will focus on work without looking back at household chores, and Andrew will quit his job and take on the thankless side of family life.
Soon youll find something remote, Natalie coaxed at first, halfashamed that hell have to make porridge, hang and iron laundry, collect Lily from nursery, drive the girls to the dentist and speech therapist. Youll manage, I know it.
Youre brilliant, Andrew kisses her forehead. Those are the last evenings we share as a couple, so both work and home will be fine for you, he says, praising her.
Andrew throws himself into the new routine. The constant texts and calls Natalie used to sendwhats dirty, what to wash, who to pick up and whenstop. He copes well; the chores dont weigh him down, the girls dont irritate him as they do their mother after a long day. Meanwhile, at her firm Natalie is in demand, respected by colleagues and superiors, trusted with any task. The family compromise lets her flourish both as a professional and as a woman, and she feels a dizzying rise.
You’re home late, dinners getting cold, her daughters greet her at the door, while Andrew watches from the hall. She loosens the silk scarf again, the days pressure stacking one task on another. The Neills not coming tonight?
What? Natalie snaps, annoyed. Youre impossible.
You said
Natalie glares at Andrew as if he were a subordinate overstepping bounds. I said this weekend!
You mentioned today.
Andrew, have you forgotten how to listen to me? she says, stepping into the living room, irritation clear. Whats this mess? Why didnt you change Lilys outfit? Who snagged the curtain? She pulls at the drapes in a fit, Did the kids play ball inside again? You cant do that in the flat!
Andrew, Charlotte, and Lily stand mute, unable to explain. They hadnt meant any harm. What are you going to say now? Mom will scold Dad, they think, as such spats have become common lately.
Is this how you expect guests? Natalie gestures at the chaos.
They have kids too; theyll understand we were just playing.
Come on, Andrew! Look at yourselfshaven? Shirt stretched, eyes glazed. She rolls her eyes. Andrew, still smiling, winks at the girls: Moms joking, shes tired, trying not to react to her provocation.
Lets go to the kitchen, well feed you. Exhausted? he asks gently.
Yes! Im fed up with this attitude! Is it really that hard to do what I ask? Even a simpleton could manage. You cant earn a living and also handle a mop and dirty plates.
A flash of anger crosses Andrews face, but he doesnt argue in front of the children. Natalie moves to the kitchen and finds more faults.
You ordered dinner, didnt think about me? I dont like spicy, greasy food. Make me a cup of tea, Im still hungry.
Make it yourself! Andrew replies, scooping Lily onto his back and lifting Charlotte like a feather. Were off to brush teeth, its late, time for bed. Tomorrow the girls have nursery and school. By the way, Lily had a photo shoot last week; the pictures have been on the mantel for two days. You didnt even notice.
They flit out, giggling. In the bathroom, a few minutes of childrens chatter and water splashing echo, then the nursery door closes and silence falls. Ten minutes later Andrew returns to the kitchen. Natalie still sits at the table, sipping bitterness instead of the hot tea she wantedher husband simply doesnt get her.
Feeling calmer? he asks. Whats wrong? Work trouble?
No! Work is fine, its just home
Natalie, youre losing it! Andrew leans in, eyes hard. Im not your assistant, not your secretary, not your subordinate. I never nagged you over minor things when you were at home, even when there was cause. Youre not a robot; you can miss a detailno big deal, well sort it together.
Its easy for you to say! I used to juggle the girls and work from home. Now theyre older, they understand everything. You said the dishwasher does the washing, the washing machine does the laundry, food can be orderedwhy cant you handle the basics? His lips twitch with fury, but he holds back.
Who have you become? A scullion, a nobody, a housemanager. Youll soon grow a belly of your own. He shouts.
Natalie!
Dont shout, I see what youre saying. He storms off to the bedroom, grabs a pillow, and heads for the living room, delivering his final line: Tomorrow Im going back to work! Find yourself another househelp.
You coward! You quit because of dirty plates. He clutches the pillow under his arm and leaves the lounge.
Natalie fumes, then realises Andrew cant return to work just yetnot tomorrow. She doesnt chase him that night, apologises in the morning and agrees: hell need a new job before he can pick up Lily from nursery, drive the girls around, etc. Her wait a little stretches to three months; the bossy tone at home becomes the new normal. She leaves Andrew a daily chore list, checks it each evening, and any missed item lands on both him and the girls.
Tomorrow youll pick up Lily yourself, Andrew declares one day.
And you?
I cant. Im out with friends.
Youve got to be joking! Im working until nine or ten, and youre off drinking with mates! I wont let you go! I have a planning meeting at seven tonight.
Im not asking for permission, just giving notice. You have a meeting or a crisis every day.
I said no! he snaps.
Andrew heads to the hall, puts on his coat and shoes.
Where are you going? Natalie yells down the corridor. Im not letting you off!
Im not your employee or housekeeper. Bye. He slams the door; Natalie hurls a string of insults as he walks away.
He doesnt return that night. In the morning Natalie sends him a message with instructionswhat to do, who to pick up, where to go. He doesnt reply. Later, unexpectedly, Lilys nursery teacher calls, asking Natalie to collect hershes the last child left. Natalie drops everything, races across the city to the nursery, firing angry texts at Andrew. He remains silent. He doesnt come home that night.
Natalie is furious. She isnt jealous or scared hell leave; who needs him? People like him dont go anywhere. Yet Andrew keeps his silence, and Natalie only spews negativity in texts. She has to fend for herself, juggling everything. Two weeks later shes exhausted, nerves frayed, sleepless, her boss unhappy, nannies turning down jobs one after another.
She calls Andrew, demanding he return.
Ill pick up the girls on the weekend, but Im not coming back, he says.
Youre serious? You liked the nostress life? Im not going to bear your children either
Ive filed for divorce, Andrew states, hanging up, knowing Natalie wont say a sensible word.
She freezes, speechless at the verdict. She cant believe he would stoop that low. The children hear her yelling into the phone, calling him a wretch.
Later, their mother, Emma, asks Charlotte about the white school blouse that came out of the wash. How do you get those stains out of the sleeves? Ive forgotten. Should I be more careful?
Charlotte pulls a blue packet from the washing machineoxygen bleach. First I soak it in hot water, then I throw it in the machine for forty minutes. Its simple; my shirts are always spotless.
Wow, a magician, Emma says. He also used that powder on my white sneakers and Lilys dress stains.
I was going to throw it away, Charlotte shrugs. Emma remembers all the tiny chores she has to manage, and how much Andrew used to do so her career wouldnt be constantly interrupted.
They eventually divorce. Natalie sets a schedule for the childrens time with her and Andrew. He still has to collect Lily from nursery and drive Charlotte wherever she needs to go, doing it calmly, never hearing his exwifes tirade behind his back.
Mom, will Dad ever come back? Charlotte asks one day.
Where would he go? Hed just sit at Mums, waiting. Who does he need besides us? Natalie answers confidently.
Charlotte walks away, understanding that Dad wont return under these terms and that Mum isnt going to change.
Andrew gets his old job back, and a year after the divorce he remarriesmeaning hell need a new mop, Natalie thinks. He often takes the girls for a week at a time, which suits her fine. The only thing that still irks her is the thought of her exhusband, a man with no ambition, who quickly settled into a decent life. She, on the other hand, is successful, intelligent, attractive, and stylish, but she never finds a man who stays beyond a few dates; they usually vanish after the first meeting, leaving no hope or phone number. Thats when Natalie starts to wonderwhats wrong with her?
