You can always go back to your village, her husband said when she lost her 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 lifted her head slowly, setting her phone aside. All day, shed called contacts, searched for any kind of work, but the answer was always the sameno vacancies, recession, cuts everywhere.
Sorry, I was distracted. She picked up her spoon and tasted the stew. Shed made it specially for Williamhe liked it with cabbage and beans. Now, it all felt pointless.
Whats on your mind? He sipped his steaming soup, glancing at her now and then. Still thinking about work?
What else would I be thinking about? She sighed, pushing her plate away. Charlotte says theyre letting people go in her department too. And Sophie from Accounts has been jobless for three months.
Oh, come off it! William waved a hand. Youll find something. Theres no rush.
William, Im forty-three. Whos going to hire me at this age? Everyone wants young graduates with computer skills. What do I have? A lifetime behind a shop counter.
So what? Its honest work. He finished his soup and reached for the bread. This is stale, by the way. When did you buy it?
Emily stayed silent. Shed bought it two days ago, cutting costs wherever she could. Ever since the supermarket laid her off, their budget had shrunk. Williams construction wages werent much, and even those were often delayed.
Maybe visit your sister? he suggested suddenly. Stay a week or two, clear your head. Ill manage here.
Her younger sister, Olivia, lived in London, worked as a manager at some big firm. She only called on holidays.
Why would I go to her? Shes got her own life, her own family. And I cant afford the train fare.
Well find the money. William stood and walked to the window. Listen, why not go stay with your mum? In the countryside. At least theres homegrown potatoes, fresh milk. You wont starve.
Emily froze, spoon in hand. Her mother lived in Oakfield, sixty miles from the city. She hadnt been back in three years, not since her uncles funeral. The village was dyinghardly any young people left, just pensioners.
Are you serious? The countryside? She stared at him, disbelieving. What about you?
What about me? Ive got work here. I cant just drop everything and go with you. Im the one bringing in money now.
For now, she corrected softly.
Stop twisting my words! He turned sharply. Im not saying forever. Stay a month or two, maybe something will come up here. Better than sitting around doing nothing.
Doing nothing? She stood, clearing the table. Who cleans this house? Who cooks, who does the laundry? Who stood in line at the GP for you when your back was bad?
Well, thats just what you do, he shrugged. Thats not what I meant. Its just He hesitated, scratching his head. You can go back to your village if you want. Itll be quieter. No need to fret over jobs every day.
His words stung like a slap. *Back to your village.* As if the city hadnt been her home for twenty years. As if she were some temporary guest.
*My* village? she repeated slowly. And this houseisnt it mine? Have I just been visiting here for two decades?
Whats got into you, Em? His voice wavered. Thats not what I meant. I just
You just find me inconvenient, dont you? A jobless wife, no income. Better to ship me off so Im out of sight.
Dont be daft! He flopped onto the sofa, turning on the telly. Im knackered, and youre starting a row.
Emily washed the dishes in silence, drying her hands on the towel. His words cycled in her mind. *You can go back to your village.* And his tonecasual, almost relieved.
That night, William fell asleep in front of the television while she lay awake. She remembered their early days. Shed been twenty-three, fresh in the city, renting a room in a shared flat, working as a shop assistant. William had been a labourer thereyoung, handsome, attentive. Hed courted her for months, brought flowers, took her to the cinema. After the wedding, 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 unwanted burden.
Mum? Why are you calling so late? Her daughter Lilys sleepy voice crackled through the phone.
Lily, love, sorry, I forgot the time. How are you?
Fine. Whats wrong? You sound odd.
Lily lived in the next town, worked at a bank, recently married. They barely spokeonce a week at most.
Nothings wrong. Just missed you. Hows James?
Good. Mum, are you sure youre alright? Your voice sounds off.
She wanted to tell her about the job, about Williams words, but stopped herself. Why upset her? She had her own worries.
Im fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.
Mum, why not come visit? Its been ages.
Well see. Night.
At breakfast, William was unusually sweetbrought her coffee in bed, kissed her cheek.
Sorry if I upset you last night. Only want whats best.
I know, she forced a smile.
Listen, I asked around at work. Dave says his wifes office needs an accountant. Maybe thats something?
Im not an accountant.
You could learn. Take a course. If you want it.
Courses cost money. A lot.
Well manage. He waved a hand. If youre keen.
She *was* keen. And capable. But every morning, scrolling through job ads, she felt more obsolete. *Sales assistant wanted, under 30. Manager with Excel experience. Sales specialist, max 40 years old.*
She rang her old colleague, Martha.
Martha, hi. How are things?
Emily! Martha brightened. Thought youd forgotten us. Found anything yet?
Not yet. Any news there?
Awful. Two more got laid off last week. Tina from produce and Nina from dairy. Rumour says more cuts coming.
And the boss?
Acting like nothings wrong. But the new owners shutting us down, restructuring.
Emily hung up and sat by the window. Kids played outside; young mums chatted on benches. Life carried on, while shed slipped out of it.
Ill go to Mums, she told William at dinner.
How long? He didnt look up from his plate.
Dunno. A week. Maybe longer.
Fine. Have a break. Ill sort the house, finish the shed.
The shed? She blinked. Youve been finishing that for six months.
Well, now Ive got time. Be quicker without you fussing over it.
She said nothing. *Without you fussing*. Another barb lodged in her heart.
She packed lightjeans, a few jumpers, a warm coat. William saw her to the bus, kissed her goodbye.
Call me, he said. When you arrive.
Alright.
And say hi to your mum. Tell her Ill visit soon.
She nodded, though she knew he wouldnt. William hated the countryside*Boring. Too many midges.*
The bus to Oakfield took two hours. Emily gazed at passing fields, copses, scattered hamlets. The further from the city, the calmer she felt. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed this.
Emily, love! Her mother hugged her tight on the doorstep. What a surprise! Why didnt you warn me? Id have made stew, baked a pie.
Last-minute decision, Mum. Missed you.
Her mother studied her. Margaret Hayes missed little.
Wheres William? Not with you?
Too much work. Hell come later.
I see. Her mother asked no more.
The house was just as she rememberedfloral wallpaper, creaky floors, the old stove. Only smaller, somehow. And the smellhay, fresh milk, woodsmoke.
You know where everything is. Her mother smiled. Make yourself at home. Ill fetch a chicken for dinner, celebrate your visit.
Mum, dont bother. Im not hungry.
Not hungry? Youre skin and bones. Doesnt William feed you?
He does. Im just tired.
Margaret stroked her hair. Talk when youre ready. Rest now.
The first days, she did just thatslept late, helped in the garden, visited old neighbours. Many were gone; empty houses dotted the lane. The village was fading.
Remember Alice Fletcher? her mother asked over tea. Your classmate.
Of course. How is she?
Moved to Leeds ten years back, to her sons. He put her in a home. Can you imagine? His own mother!
Why?
Said he was too busy. Wife works, kids, all that. No time for her.
Emily shivered. Like a ghost walking over her grave.
What about her house? The garden?
Sold it all. Son needed money, some loan.
And she agreed?
What choice did she have? Too much for one. Shes seventy-five.
That evening, Emily walked the village. She met Mrs. Greenwood, her old primary teacher, tending roses.
Emily, dear! The old woman beamed. How youve grown! Still see you reciting *The Owl and the Pussycat* at assembly.
I remember, Mrs. Greenwood. You havent changed.
Oh, go on! Nearly eighty now. Still manage alone, though.
Your children?
London and Edinburgh. Visit once a year, if that. Just calls on birthdays.
No visits?
Too busy. She smiled sadly. They say I should move, but how? My whole lifes here.
Walking home, Emily thought of Mrs. Greenwood, Alice Fletcher, her own mother. Once young, vital, needed. Raised children, worked, dreamed. Now alone with memories.
Mum, she asked at supper, ever thought of moving to town?
Aye, especially in winter. But where would I go? Your place? What if William minds? Small flat, my old ways
Since when does he decide? Youre my mother. Youre always welcome.
I know, love. But best not test it. I manage.
And if youre ill? If something happens?
Then it happens. Im not the first.
Emily bit her tongue. Williams words echoed: *You can go back to your village*. She feared her mother hearing such words from her one day.
On the fourth day, William called.
Hows it there? Your mum alright?
Fine. Managing.
When are you back?
Dunno. Might stay longer.
What? Seriously? What about home? What about me?
Youll cope. You said youd manage better without me.
Em, I didnt mean
What *did* you mean?
Long pause.
Fine, stay awhile. Just dont linger. I miss you.
*Miss you,* she repeated after hanging up.
William? her mother asked.
Yeah.
And?
Says he misses me.
Do you miss him?
Emily pondered. Strangely, she didnt. For the first time in years, she felt at peace. No dinners to plan, laundry piling up. No complaints about work, bosses, life.
Not yet.
Her mother sipped her tea.
Did you and Dad argue?
Course. Made up, though. He never made me feel unwanted.
What if he had?
Her mother paused. Dont know. Thank God he didnt.
That evening, Emily visited Mrs. Greenwood again. The old woman knitted on her porch.
Been thinking, she said. About children. We raised them to take, not give.
How so?
We gave them everythingthe best food, the warmest coats. They grew used to it. Now they think we *owe* them. Never occurs to them *we* might need something.
Should we have done differently?
Maybe. Maybe if wed kept something for ourselves, theyd value us more.
Walking home, Emily turned it over. Shed given everythingto parents, husband, daughter. What had she gotten? When she became inconvenient, she was sent away. Politely, but sent all the same.
Mum, she said at breakfast, what if I stayed?
How dyou mean?
Live here. Help you.
And William?
He said hed manage.
Her mother was quiet a long time.
Do you *want* to stay? Or is it just pride?
I dont know. But Im happy here. No one calls me a burden.
Love, the village isnt an escape. Its hard. Lonely. Think carefully.
I am.
Two days later, William arrived. She spotted him at the gate, hesitating.
Hi, he said awkwardly. You alright?
Fine. Why are you here?
To bring you home. Time to come back.
Says who?
Em, enough! Had your break. Theres things to do.
*Your* things?
*Our* things! Were a family!
She laughed bitterly. When you told me to leave, was *family* on your mind?
I didnt *make* you go! I suggested a rest!
Go back to your villagethats a holiday invite?
He faltered. Knew hed phrased it wrong.
I didnt mean to hurt you.
What *did* you mean?
I wanted to spare you the job hunt stress.
And now?
Now I want you back. Homes empty without you.
And if I dont find work? Will you send me away again?
No.
Promise?
Promise.
She studied himand knew she didnt believe him. Something between them had broken. Maybe forever.
Will, if *you* lost your job, would I tell you to leave?
Thats different.
How?
Im the breadwinner.
And Im what?
Youre my wife. My support.
Support, she echoed. Useful when needed. A nuisance when not.
Thats bollocks! he exploded. Whats got into you?
Nothing. Just unemployed. Dead weight.
Stop this!
Then why send me away?
He had no answer. He didnt even know why hed suggested it. Just seemed easierno sad eyes, no job talk.
Alright, I messed up. Sorry. Come home?
No.
What?
Im not ready.
But I apologised!
Its not about that. I need time. To think. About us. About *me*.
He stayed the night, left next morningconfused, hurt. He couldnt understand her stubbornness. Shed always yielded before.
Think it over, her mother said as the car vanished. Maybe he truly regrets it.
Maybe. But I cant go back yet. I need to remember who I am without him.
Will you look for work here?
Theres a cleaner job at the village school. Pays little, but enough. And Ill help in the garden.
Id like that.
Emily hugged her, resting her head on her shoulder. For the first time in years, she was home. Truly home.
