“Whats going on here? Where are you off to? Whos going to make dinner?” snapped the man, irritated as he watched what his wife, Antonia, was doing after yet another argument with his mother.
Antonia glanced out the window. Heavy clouds loomed, even though spring had just begun. Their little town in the north of England rarely saw sunny days. Maybe thats why the people who lived there always seemed so gloomy and distant.
Lately, Antonia had noticed shed stopped smiling altogetherthe permanent frown on her forehead adding ten years to her face.
“Mum! Im going out,” announced her daughter, Emily.
“Right,” Antonia muttered.
“Whats ‘right’ supposed to mean? Give me some money.”
“Since when do walks cost anything?” Antonia sighed.
“Mum! Why do you always ask questions?!” Emily snapped. “Hurry up! Is that all youre giving me?”
“Its enough for ice cream.”
“Cheapskate,” Emily muttered before slamming the door shut, leaving her mother behind.
Unbelievable Antonia shook her head, remembering how sweet Emily had been before adolescence hit.
“Toni, Im starving! How much longer?” grumbled her husband, Thomas.
“Make it yourself,” she replied flatly, setting a plate on the table.
“Bring it here, will you?”
Antonia nearly dropped the pot. Who did he think he was?
“Meals are eaten in the kitchen, Tom. Take it or leave it,” she said, sitting down alone.
Fifteen minutes later, Thomas wandered in.
“Its cold gross.”
“I left it out longer.”
“I asked you nicely! Not an ounce of kindness in you! You know Im watching the match!” He shoveled down the chicken in a hurry. “Tastes like cardboard.”
Antonia rolled her eyes. Football had turned Thomas into a different manbetting, merchandise, expensive tickets. Hed never cared about sports in his youth.
Without sitting, he grabbed a beer and a bag of crisps before rushing back to the telly. Meanwhile, Antonia stayed behind to scrub the dishes.
No point trying. No one ever appreciated it.
She was exhausted after her shift as a senior nurse at the hospital. Patients came to her with their problemsfrustrated, sick, stressed. And then shed come home to another shift of demandsfetching, cleaning, tidying.
“Any more left?” Thomas called, reaching into the fridge. “Whys there none?”
“You drank it all! Am I supposed to buy that too? Have some decency, Tom!” Antonia finally snapped.
“Oh, arent we posh now?” Thomas sneered before storming out to restock his “secret stash” for the next match.
Antonia decided to sleep earlyshe had another long day ahead. But she couldnt drift off. Worry gnawed at her. Where was Emily? Who was she with? It was dark, and she still wasnt home. Calling her was pointlessEmily would just shout.
“You embarrass me in front of my friends! Stop calling!” shed scream before hanging up. After too many of those calls, Antonia stopped trying, telling herself Emily was nearly nineteen. She didnt want a job or studiesjust a gap year to “find herself.”
Half-asleep, Antonia jolted awake at Thomass roaring cheers. Someone mustve scored. Then came the loud banter with the neighbour whod dropped by to watch the game. Later, the neighbours girlfriend joined, and the three of them kept cheering long into the night.
Eventually, Emily stumbled in, rattling plates before heading straight to bed. Just as silence settled, Antonia finally dozed offonly for the cat to start yowling for food.
“Can someone else in this house feed the cat for once?!” Exhausted and nursing a migraine, Antonia stormed out, hoping someone would hear. But Emily had her headphones in, and Thomas was snoring in front of the telly, empty can in hand.
“Ive had enough Ive bloody well had enough,” Antonia thought.
The next morning, her mother-in-laws call woke her.
“Antonia, love, you remember its time to plant the garden? And we need to sort out the cottage.”
“I remember,” Antonia sighed.
“Tomorrow, then.”
Her only day off was spent labouring under her mother-in-laws orders at the countryside cottage.
“How are you sweeping?! Hold the broom properly!” Vera barked from her perch on the bench.
“Im nearly fifty, Vera. I can manage,” Antonia dared to reply.
“And Thomas”
“Where is Thomas? Why didnt he drive his own mother here? Why did we have to slog three hours on the bus? Its always Thomas, Thomas”
“He works hard.”
“And I dont?”
Then it began. Antonia regretted speaking up. Vera loved to lecture, but her fairness only flowed one waytowards her son. To her, Antonia was just a servant she tolerated.
They rode home in silence, sitting at opposite ends of the bus. The next day, Vera complained to her son, and Thomas blew up.
“How dare you talk back to my mother?!” he growled.
“Or what?” Antonia crossed her arms. Shed finally had enough of being treated like dirt.
“Youd still be at the clinic if not for her!” He played his trump cardVera had used her connections to get Antonia the hospital job. Better pay, but it cost her nerves and grey hairs. More than once, shed regretted leaving the quiet local clinic.
“Where do you think youre going?” Thomas stared, stunned, as Antonia moved decisively.
What she did next, he never saw coming.
The lesson? A life spent pleasing others leaves no room for your own happiness. Sometimes, walking away is the bravest thing you can do.
