Veronica Clarke stands in the nursemanagers office, fists clenched, cheeks hot, a lump stuck in her throat.
Do you realise complaints are coming in about you? This is the third this month. You cant keep working like this! the manager, Martha Spencer, says.
Veronicas eyes flash. Im doing everything by the book, Martha. That nurse, Keen, nitpicks every little thing. Shes impossible to please.
Martha sighs, lifts her glasses and rubs the bridge of her nose. Veronica, you must speak respectfully to patients. Youre a nurse, not
Not what? Veronica snaps, sharper than intended. A doormat that has to put up with abuse?
Marthas shoulders slump. I know youre going through a tough patch after the divorce. Its always hard. But its still a job. Take some leave, get some rest. Otherwise I dont know how much longer I can shield you.
Veronica leaves the office, tears threatening. A break will solve everything, she thinks, though the wound from Ians departure still aches after six months. Every day feels like a trial: work, a silent flat where her own footsteps echo, the empty rooms where they once lived.
In the oncall room, her only confidante, Laura Mitchell, waits.
Whats happened now? Laura asks gently.
The manager suggested I take a holiday. She says my nerves are cracking.
Maybe you really do need it. Get away somewhere, clear your head.
Veronica shakes her head. Where would I go? Ians barely paying a few pence in maintenance. His mother, Margaret, has pushed paperwork saying his income is tiny and the flat is in her name.
Stuck, Laura sighs. I told you not to sign those papers.
I thought we were a family. I never imagined he could do something like this.
Veronica pours herself tea from a thermos, sits on a threadbare chair, hands trembling. She feels exhaustedfrom the job, from the thoughts, from the endless ache in her chest.
Laura, have I really changed? Am I becoming a bitter person?
Laura puts a hand on her shoulder. Youre just protecting yourself. After twenty years together, its natural to feel angry when he walks out for a younger woman without children. Who wouldnt?
I dont want to be angry, Veronica bursts, tears streaming down her cheeks. I just want a normal life, free of this pain.
That evening she walks home on foot, saving on transport. October is cold and drizzly; wet leaves cling to her shoes, wind slips under her coat collar. She looks down at the pavement, lost in thought.
When Ian left, it felt like a nightmare she might wake from and find everything unchangedhim hanging his coat in the hall, asking whats for dinner, sharing stories about the day. Instead, his mother, Margaret, arrived with cold eyes and a stack of documents, claiming Ian needs space and that Veronica had suffocated him with care.
The flat is in my name, Margaret declares, tapping the table. But Im not throwing you out. Live here until you get settled.
Veronica whispers, Ive lived here twenty years. We renovated together, bought furniture
Bought it with my money, Margaret retorts. Dont forget, Ian is my son and Ill always side with him.
Silenced, Veronica packs her things and rents a tiny, dim room in a council house on the citys edge, sharing a kitchen that smells of cats with an alcoholic neighbour. Its her space now; no one can take it away.
She spots a familiar black sedan parked outside her buildinga car Ian bought six months ago. Her heart tightens.
Climbing the stairs, she hears voices. On the landing, Ian and Margaret stand, Margaret gesturing wildly, Ian nodding.
Ian! he exclaims, seeing her first. Finally! Weve been waiting for an hour.
Veronica reaches for her keys, but Margaret blocks the doorway.
Wait, we need to talk.
Theres nothing to discuss, Veronica says, trying to stay calm. Please let us in.
Veronica, dont be like that, Ian steps closer, looking older, tired, dark circles under his eyes. We came to make peace.
Veronica freezes. Make peace? she repeats slowly.
Yes, Margaret says sweetly. Your daughter left him, turned out to be after his money. Hes remorseful and wants to come back.
Come back? Veronica echoes, the words ringing hollow.
Ian, were a family after all. Twenty years together cant just be tossed aside, Margaret adds.
Ian holds out his hand, but Veronica pulls back.
Lets sit down and talk properly. Ill explain everything.
Explain what? Veronicas anger flares. What you did at night, saying you loved someone else? Or how your mother kicked me out of the flat I poured my heart into?
Dont start, Margaret snaps, her lips tight. Were here with good intentions.
Good intentions? Veronica laughs, a bitter, hysterical sound. Youre only here because your son is alone, because the girl he ran after turned out to be smarter than me and used him. Now you expect me to welcome him back?
Ignoring you is what we did while you were crying, Ian interjects, but Veronica cuts him off.
I understand. Six months ago you told me Id smothered you, that there was no love left, that you needed space. And you were right.
I Ian starts, but she continues. I spent thirtyfive years ironing your shirts, cooking your favourite meals, tolerating your mothers interference. I gave up a career because you wanted a housewife. I never had children because it never happened, and I endured your mothers accusations of being defective.
I never said those things, Ians face pales.
You didnt say them, but you stayed silent while your mother humiliated me, while I wept.
Margaret exhales loudly. Enough, Veronica. Stop dredging up the past. Ian is apologising. Isnt that enough?
Its not enough, Veronica looks Margaret straight in the eye. In the past six months Ive finally started living for myself. Yes, Im in a shabby council flat, money is tight, but this is my life, and no one can tell me its wrong.
Maybe we should still go in? Ian asks, glancing at the neighbours door where footsteps echo.
Your neighbours? Veronica smirks. To you theyre strangers. To me theyre my neighbours, and they treat me better than you and your mother ever have.
How dare you! Margaret snaps, rising. I was like a mother to you!
A mother does not throw you out onto the street, Veronica replies calmly. A mother does not strip a woman who cared for her son for decades of her roof.
The flat is mine on paper!
On paper, yes. But not in conscience.
Conscience doesnt matter, the law does.
Veronica nods. The law is the law. So I demand nothingno flat, no money, no apologies. Just leave and never appear in my life again.
Ian, listen! Margaret pushes him. Dont be a stubborn fool!
Im not here to waste two hours in traffic just to be shooed away, Veronica! Youll regret this!
Veronica turns, eyes scanning Margarets madeup face, her expensive coat, the way she commands her son. She then looks at Ian, head bowed like a guilty schoolboy.
Youre right, Margaret. Men like Ian are hard to find, so I wont look for any more. Thats enough.
Youll regret it, youll be alone at fortythree! Margaret yells.
Maybe, Veronica shrugs, but Id rather be alone than with someone who doesnt value me.
She opens the door, steps out, and leans against it, closing her eyes. Behind her, muffled voices and the clatter of an elevator fade away.
In her tiny room she pulls off her shoes, collapses onto the bed, and feels a quiet shes never known. The phone buzzes. Its Laura.
Hey, hows it going? Handled Keen?
Veronica smiles and replies, Handled her. And more.
She walks to the window. Night has fallen, streetlights flicker, the city hums with its usual bustle. Cars rush past, people hurry to their errands. She is part of this rhythm nowno longer anyones wife or daughterinlaw, just Veronica.
Morning finds her waking to a sliver of sunlight through thin curtains. The first thought is about yesterdaywas it real or a dream? Ian and his mother had stood at her door, pleading for reconciliation, and she had turned them away.
She does her morning stretches, jogs a mile, attends a yoga class at the local community centrenot to impress anyone, but because she finally has time for herself.
At work, Laura notices a change.
You look radiant, she says. What happened?
Ian showed up with his mother, trying to make peace, Veronica explains. I sent them away, firmly but politely.
Laura whistles, then hugs her. Im proud of you.
Veronica confides, I stayed in his shadow for twenty yearshis wishes, his mothers demands, his choices. I forgot who Veronica is, what she wants.
What do you want now? Laura asks.
Im not sure yet. I just know I dont want to go back to what was. It feels like breaking out of a cagescary at first, then you realise you can fly.
Laura smiles. Beautifully put. What if he comes back?
He wont. He expected me to throw myself at him, to thank him for daring to return. Hes lost when I didnt give him that.
Later, Veronica asks the nursemanager about her leave.
Will you take a week off? Martha asks.
Yes, Ill visit my sister in the countryside.
Her sister, Gillian Gilly Hayes, lives in a small village three hundred miles north of London. After years of work and the split, Veronica hasnt visited.
Gilly greets her with open arms.
Veronica, love, come in, come in! she exclaims. The cottage is modest but cosy, the smell of apple pie and fresh herbs filling the air. A ginger cat purrs on the hearth, geraniums line the windowsill.
You look thinner, Gilly notes, pouring tea.
Its been a long time, Veronica says.
Good riddance to that Ian! Hes a proper rotter, Gilly adds, shaking the table. Youve been his servant and his mothers pawn for twenty years.
Veronica laughs. Yesterday they came begging for peace. I sent them packing.
Exactly what you should do, Gilly says. Now live for yourself. Youre still young, beautiful. Lifes ahead.
Fortythree isnt old, Veronica replies.
Not at all. My neighbour is fiftyeight and just got married last year to a wonderful widower.
Veronica spends ten days with Gilly, walking the woods, picking mushrooms, helping with the garden. Gilly never pries about the past, just keeps her company.
One evening on the porch, sipping honey tea as the sun paints the sky pink, Gilly asks, Ever thought about moving here permanently?
Why? Veronica wonders.
Its quieter. My house is big enough, and the local clinic needs nurses. Pay is lower than the city, but youd have peace.
Veronica mulls it over. The thought of leaving the council flat, the job where shes undervalued, the city where every corner holds a memory of Ian, feels both daunting and tempting.
Back in London, the grey sky and bustling streets overwhelm her again. The council flat smells of mould and a shouting neighbour. Work remains the same: Keen complains, Martha sighs. Laura notices Veronicas distant stare at lunch.
Whats on your mind? she asks.
Gilly suggested I move to the village, Veronica admits.
Will you do it? Laura presses.
I dont know. It could be running away, or it could be exactly what I needa fresh start.
Laura nods. Whatever you choose, Ill support you.
One evening, after a shift, Veronica spots Ian outside a shop, arminarm with a young woman she doesnt recognise. They laugh, oblivious to her. She freezes, then a sudden laugh bubbles up, startling passersby. She laughs because she finally sees the truth: she doesnt need that life, those people, that pain.
The next day she hands in her resignation.
Youre serious? Laura asks, eyes wide.
Absolutely. Im going to Gillys. Starting a new life.
What about the flat, your things?
Few belongings. Ill take what I need, give away or throw the rest.
Laura hugs her. Ill miss you. Promise youll call.
I promise.
Packing takes a week. Two suitcases and a bag hold everything Veronica owns.
She walks the city one last time, visits the park where she once strolled with Ian, pauses by the old flats doorwaynever quite a home, just a memory.
On the bus, she watches the familiar streets recede, the countryside unfolding ahead. She feels no fear, only anticipation.
At the coach station, Gilly greets her.
Here for good? she asks.
Here for good, Veronica confirms, finally smiling without bitterness.
Life in the village isnt easy, but Veronica never regrets the choice. She lands a nursing post at the local health centre, rents a small cottage near Gillys, and evenings are spent on the porch with tea, chatting about everything and nothing.
Sometimes she remembers the day she shut the door on Ian and his mother, the tremor in her hands, the terror of being alone. Now she knows that moment sparked her true lifea life where she is the main character.
