«You can go back to your village,» said my husband when I lost my job.
«Emily, why so quiet? Your soups getting cold,» William tapped his spoon against the edge of the bowl, eyeing his wife with irritation.
Emily slowly lifted her head and set aside her phone. All day, shed been calling contacts, searching for any kind of work, but the answer was always the sameno vacancies, recession, layoffs.
«Sorry, lost in thought,» she murmured, picking up her spoon and tasting the stew shed made that morning, just how William liked itwith carrots and peas. Now it all felt pointless.
«Whats on your mind?» William blew on a spoonful of hot soup, glancing at her. «Still the job?»
«What else would it be?» Emily sighed, pushing her plate away. «Sarah said theyre cutting staff in her department too. And Lucy from accounts has been out of work for three months now.»
«Oh, come off it!» William waved a hand. «Youll find something. Theres no rush.»
«William, Im forty-three. Whod hire me at this age? Everyone wants young peopledegrees, computer skills. What do I have? A lifetime behind a shop counter.»
«And whats wrong with that? Honest work.» He finished his soup and reached for the bread. «This breads stale, by the way. When did you buy it?»
Emily stayed silent. Shed bought it two days ago, cutting corners wherever she could. Since being laid off from the supermarket, the household budget had shrunk. Williams wages from the construction site werent much, and even those were often late.
«Maybe visit your sister in London?» William suggested suddenly. «Stay a week or two, clear your head. Ill manage here.»
Her younger sister, Olivia, lived in London, working as a manager for some big firm. She rarely called, only on holidays.
«Why would I go there? Shes got her own life, her own family. And we dont have the money for train fare.»
«Well manage,» William stood and walked to the window. «Listen, why not just go to your mums? The countryside. At least theres potatoes from the garden, fresh milk. You wont go hungry.»
Emily froze, spoon in hand. Her mother lived in Ashford, a hundred miles from the city. The last time Emily had visited was three years ago, for her uncles funeral. The village was dyingfew young people left, just pensioners.
«Are you serious? The countryside?» She stared at him. «And what about you?»
«What about me? Ive got to work. Cant just drop everything and go with you. Im the only one bringing in money now.»
«For now,» she corrected quietly.
«Dont start!» William turned sharply. «Im not saying forever. Stay a month or two, maybe something will turn up here. Better than sitting around doing nothing.»
«Nothing?» Emily stood, clearing the table. «Who cleans the house? Who cooks, does the laundry? Who waited in line at the clinic for you when your back was hurting?»
«Well, thats just how it is,» William shrugged. «You know what I meant. Its just» He hesitated, scratching his head. «You can go back to your village if you want. Itll be quieter there, no daily stress over work.»
The words stung like a slap. *»Back to your village.»* As if the city hadnt been her home for twenty years. As if she didnt belong here.
*»My* village?» she repeated slowly. «Is this not my house? Have I been a guest here for twenty years?»
«Come on, Em,» William faltered at her tone. «I didnt mean it like that. Just»
«You just felt awkward, didnt you? Unemployed wife, no income. Easier to ship her off where she wont be a bother.»
«Dont be daft!» He flopped onto the sofa and turned on the telly. «Im knackered after work, and youre picking a fight.»
Emily silently washed the dishes, drying her hands on a tea towel. Williams words echoed in her mind*»You can go back to your village.»* The way hed said it, indifferent, almost relieved.
That night, William fell asleep in front of the telly while Emily lay awake, remembering how theyd met. She was twenty-three, fresh to the city, renting a room in a shared flat, working as a shop assistant. William was a labourer thereyoung, handsome, attentive. Hed courted her for months, brought flowers, took her to the cinema. After they married, they rented a flat, then got a mortgage. Emily moved to a bigger supermarket, became senior sales assistant, then department manager.
And now? He wanted her gone, like an inconvenience.
«Mum, why are you calling so late?» Her daughter Charlottes sleepy voice crackled over the phone.
«Sorry, love, lost track of time. How are you?»
«Fine. Whats wrong? You sound odd.»
Charlotte lived in a neighbouring town, worked at a bank, recently married. They barely spoke, just weekly check-ins.
«Nothings wrong. Just missed you. Hows James?»
«Hes good. Mum, are you sure youre alright?»
Emily nearly told her about the job, about Williams wordsbut stopped herself. Why burden her?
«Everythings fine, sweetheart. Sleep well.»
«Mum, why not visit soon? Its been ages.»
«Well see. Night.»
At breakfast, William was unusually affectionate, bringing her tea in bed, kissing her cheek.
«Sorry if I upset you. I only want whats best.»
«I know,» Emily forced a smile.
«ListenI talked to the lads on-site. Dave says his wifes office needs an accountant. Maybe thatd suit you?»
«Im not an accountant.»
«You could learn. Take a course. Its about wanting to.»
«Courses cost money. A lot.»
«Well manage,» William waved it off. «If youre keen.»
She *was* keen. But job ads crushed her spirit daily: *»Sales assistant wanted, under 30.» «Manager required, Excel experience.» «Sales specialist, max age 40.»*
«Jess, hi,» she called an old colleague from the shop. «Hows things? Any news?»
«Em! Thought youd forgotten us. Found anything yet?»
«Not yet. What about you?»
«Not good. Two more got laid off last weekTina from tills and Nina from dairy. Rumours say more cuts coming.»
«And Margaret? The manager?»
«Holed up in her office, pretending its fine. New owners taking over, restructuring everything.»
Emily hung up and sat by the window. Kids played outside, young mums chatted on benches. Life moved onwhile shed been left behind.
«Ill go to Mums,» she told William at dinner.
«How long?» He didnt look up from his plate.
«Dunno. A week. Maybe more.»
«Fine. Have a break. Ill finish the shed repairs.»
«The shed? Youve been finishing that for six months.»
«Well, now Ill have time. Be quicker without you fussing over how I do it.»
Emily said nothing. *»Without you fussing.»* Another jab to tuck away.
Packing took minutesjeans, a few jumpers, a warm coat. William saw her to the bus stop, kissed her goodbye.
«Call me when you arrive.»
«Alright.»
«Say hi to your mum. Tell her Ill visit soon.»
Emily nodded, though she knew he wouldnt. William hated the countryside»nothing to do, too many midges.»
The bus to Ashford took three hours. Fields and hedgerows blurred past. The further from the city, the calmer she felt. Maybe William was right. Maybe she needed this.
«Emily!» Her mother greeted her on the doorstep, hugging tight. «What a surprise! Why no warning? Id have made a roast, baked a pie.»
«Last-minute decision, Mum. Missed you.»
Her mother studied her face. Margaret Hayes missed little.
«Wheres William? Couldnt he come?»
«Too much work. Hell visit later.»
«Right,» Margaret nodded, asking no more.
The house was just as Emily rememberedfloral wallpaper, creaky floors, the old stove in the kitchen. Only smaller now. It smelled of hay, fresh milk, woodsmoke.
«You know where everything is,» Margaret said. «Settle in. Ill roast a chicken for dinnercelebrate you being home.»
«Mum, dont fuss. Im not hungry.»
«Not hungry? Youre skin and bones. Doesnt William feed you?»
«He does. Just tired, Mum.»
Margaret stroked her hair.
«Talk when youre ready. For now, rest.»
The first days were peaceful. Emily slept late, helped in the garden, visited old neighbours. Many were gone now, houses empty, boarded up. The village was fading.
«Remember Alice from school?» Margaret asked over tea.
«Of course. What about her?»
«Went to live with her son in Birmingham ten years back. He put her in a care home. Can you imagine? His own mother!»
«Why?»
«Said they were too busy. Work, kids. She was in the way.»
Emily shivered.
«And her house? The garden?»
«Sold it all. Son needed money, some loan.»
«Alice agreed?»
«What choice did she have? Too much for one woman. Shes seventy-five.»
That evening, Emily walked through the village. She met Mrs. Palmer, her old primary teacher.
«Emily, dear!» The frail woman beamed. «All grown up! I still picture you reciting poems at assembly. *James James Morrison Morrison*»
«I remember, Mrs. Palmer. You havent changed.»
«Oh, posh! Im ancient. Nearly eighty. Still managing alone, though.»
«No family visits?»
«Sons in London, daughter in Edinburgh. Come once a year, if that.»
Emily walked home thinking of Mrs. Palmer, of Alice, of her own mother. Once vibrant, needed. Now left with memories.
«Mum, ever thought of moving to town?» Emily asked at supper.
«Thought about it. Specially in winter when the lanes flood. But whered I go? Your place? What if William minds? Tiny flat, me with my habits»
«Mum, since when does William decide? Youre my mother.»
«I know, love. But best not test it. I cope fine.»
«And if you get ill?»
«Well, thats that. Ive had my time.»
Emily bit her tongue. Williams words haunted her*»You can go back to your village.»* She feared hearing that from Charlotte one day.
On day four, William called.
«Hows it going? Hows your mum?»
«Fine. Managing.»
«When you coming back?»
«Dunno. Might stay a bit longer.»
«What? Seriously? What about home? What about me?»
«Youll cope. You said youd manage quicker without me.»
«Em, I didnt mean»
«What *did* you mean?»
Silence.
«Fine, stay a while. But dont linger. I miss you.»
*»Miss you,»* she echoed after hanging up.
«William called?» Margaret asked.
«Yeah.»
«And?»
«He misses me, apparently.»
«Do you miss him?»
Emily paused. Strangely, she didnt. For the first time in years, she felt at peace. No frantic cooking, cleaning, listening to Williams rants about work.
«Dont know, Mum. Not yet.»
That evening, she visited Mrs. Palmer. The old woman knitted on her porch.
«Ive been thinking,» Mrs. Palmer said. «About children. We raised them to take, not give.»
«How so?»
«We gave them everythingleft ourselves scraps. They grew up expecting it. *Mum will sacrifice, Mum will cope.* Never considering *we* might need something too.»
Emily walked home pondering this. Shed given everythingto parents, husband, daughter. And when she was no longer useful? Shed been gently shown the door.
«Mum, what if I stayed?» she asked at breakfast.
«Stayed how?»
«Live here. Help you.»
«And William?»
«William can manage. He said so.»
Margaret studied her.
«Do you *want* to stay? Or is it pride?»
«Dont know. But here I feel needed. No one calls me extra.»
«Love, the village isnt running away. Its hard, lonely work. Think carefully.»
«I will.»
Two days later, William arrived. Emily spotted him at the gate, hesitant. She went out.
«Hi,» he mumbled. «Alright?»
«Fine. Why are you here?»
«To take you home. Time to come back.»
«Says who?»
«Em, enough! Playing house is over. Responsibilities at home.»
*»Your* responsibilities?»
*»Our* responsibilities! Were a family!»
She scoffed. «Family? When you told me to come here, was that family?»
«I didnt *throw* you out! Suggested a break!»
*»You can go back to your village*thats a break?»
William floundered.
«Maybe I worded it badly. But I didnt mean»
«What *did* you mean?»
«I I wanted you not to suffer. Over the job.»
«And now?»
«Now I want you back. Homes not home without you.»
«And if I dont find work? Will you send me away again?»
«No.»
«Promise?»
«Promise.»
Emily looked at himand knew she didnt believe it. Something between them had broken.
«Will, if *youd* lost your job, would I have told you to leave?»
«Thats different.»
«Why?»
«Because Im the man. The provider.»
«And what am I?»
«Youre my support. My backbone.»
«Backbone,» she repeated. «Useful until its a burden.»
«Dont twist my words!» William exploded. «Burden? Are you ill?»
«No. Just redundant. An extra mouth. A burden.»
«Stop this!»
«Then why send me away?»
William had no answer. He hadnt fully understood it himselfjust thought itd be easier. Fewer disappointed looks, fewer job talks.
«Fine, I messed up. Sorry. Come home?»
«No.»
«What?»
«Not yet. Im staying.»
«For good?»
«Dont know. I need to think. About us. About me.»
William slept in the spare room, left the next morningconfused, hurt. The wife whod always yielded was suddenly unyielding.
«Love,» Margaret said as the bus disappeared. «Think again. Maybe he truly regrets it.»
«Maybe. But Im not ready. Need time to remember who *I* am without him.»
«Will you look for work here?»
«Yes. The school in town needs a cleaner. Pays poor, but enough. And your garden needs tending.»
«It does.»
Emily hugged her mother, resting her head on her shoulder. For the first time in years, she felt at home. *Really* home.
