My father brought his new wife home, and I was stunned by her demands. Twentythousand pounds for a consultation? Are you out of your mind? I shouted.
The renovation consultanta young woman in a smart suitcalmly gathered her paperwork.
This is the standard rate. If you dont like it, youre free to go elsewhere.
Fine, Ill go! Emily snapped, snatching her bag and storming toward the door. What a ripoff!
She shoved out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Outside, the November drizzle was biting. Emily fished out her phone and dialed my number.
Dad, it didnt work out. The consultant quoted a ridiculous sum. Ill have to sort the repairs myself.
My dear, dont worry, my voice sounded unusually upbeat. Ive met someone who can help.
Someone? Who?
Come over tonight. Ill introduce you.
Dad
But he hung up before I could answer. Standing in the rain, I felt a cold knot form inside me. Someone. It had only been a year and a half since Mum died. Could Father already have met someone new?
That evening I drove to his flat, climbed to the fifth floor, and knocked. Victor Turner opened the door in his crisp shirt and tie. He was sixtytwo, but he still looked about fiftyfive.
Emily, come in! he said, clearly excited. I want you to meet Alice.
From the kitchen emerged a tall, slim woman in a fitted dress. Her hair fell to her shoulders, her makeup bright. She was not much older than thirtyfive.
Hello, Emily, she said, extending a hand. Im Alice. Lovely to meet you.
I took her hand automatically. Her nails were long and painted a cold shade.
Nice to meet you.
Please, have a seat, Alice, Victor hurried, and you too, Emily. Ill put the tea on!
Alice settled on the sofa, crossing her legs. I sank into a chair opposite her, studying the stranger.
Your father has told me a lot about you, Alice began. He says youre brilliant. Do you work at a bank?
Yes, I replied shortly.
Great! I used to work at a bank myself, long ago, before I moved on to other things.
What kind of things? she asked.
All sorts, she waved a hand. You know how it is.
I nodded, though I didnt know what she meant. At forty Id spent my whole career in one place, building a steady path.
Victor placed tea, biscuits, and a pot of jam on the table, bustling like a groom on his wedding day.
Help yourselves! Emily, you must try the jam. Alice made it herself!
I broke off a biscuitit was dry and tasteless. Alice sipped her tea with a smile.
Victor, love, wheres the sugar? I cant have tea without it!
On it! Victor shouted, dashing to the kitchen.
I watched my father, a man who had always been restrained and stern, now darting about, eyes glued to Alice.
Dad, can we talk? I asked when he returned with the sugar bowl.
Of course, whats on your mind?
In private, I said.
Victor hesitated, glanced at Alice, who rose gracefully.
Dont worry, Victor. Ill step into the bathroom and freshen up.
She swayed away, hips swaying. I watched her leave, then turned back to my father.
Dad, whats this about? I asked.
What?
This woman. Who is she?
Emily, Ive been meaning to tell you Alice and I have been seeing each other for three months now.
Three months? And you never said a word?
I didnt want to upset you. I thought Id wait until things felt serious.
How serious? he asked, clearing his throat and straightening his tie.
Were getting married, he said.
My breath caught.
Youre marrying her? Youve only known her three months!
I know, but Im not a boy any more. Im sixtytwo. I know what I want.
What do you want? A young wife?
Emily! Victor snapped. Dont say that. Alice is a good person.
A good person? I repeated. How old is she?
Thirtyeight.
So shes twentyfour years younger. Doesnt that seem odd?
No. Love doesnt count the years.
I closed my eyes, recalling the love Id seen in my fathers eyesa boyish affection.
Dad, you realize its barely a year and a half since Mum died, right?
Exactly a year and a half. I missed her. I was lonely. Then I met Alice. She understood me, supported me.
How did you meet?
In the park. We were both walking, started talking, and it grew from there.
I nodded, hearing the familiar fairytale line.
Alice returned from the bathroom, scented with perfume, looking refreshed.
So, did you have a chat? she asked, sitting beside Victor and laying a hand on his shoulder.
We did, I said, standing. I have to go. I have an early start tomorrow.
Emily, wait! Victor stood, his voice urgent. I have one more thing to say. Alice is moving in with me next week.
I froze at the doorway.
Here? In this flat?
Yes. Where else?
But this is Mums flat yours and hers
It was hers, Victor said quietly. Now its mine. And Alices.
I left without saying goodbye, the rain still drizzling as I walked home, my mind a storm. My father was marrying a woman half his age, whom hed known for three months.
I called my brother, Andrew, who lived up north and visited only occasionally.
Andrew, did you hear Fathers got someone new?
Yes, he mentioned an Alice.
Do you mind?
Emily, what can I say? Hes an adult. He has a right to his personal life.
But shes after his money!
What money? He only has his pension and this flat. No other assets.
The flat is threebedroom, prime London, worth a decent sum!
And? Shes marrying him, not the flat.
Andrew, are you seriously that naive?
He sighed.
Emily, dont dramatise. Lets see what happens.
I hung up, the anger still simmering. I thought of MumNina, a kind, caring nurse whod spent thirtyfive years with my father, raising us. Shed fallen ill a year ago, cancer taking her quickly.
Id cared for her until the end, my father holding her hand, weeping.
Dont go, Nina, hed whispered. What will I do without you?
Now hed found a replacementa young woman.
My fists clenched. I wouldnt let Alice take the flat or my fathers life.
The following week Victor rang.
Emily, come over Saturday. Alice is moving in; I want you there.
For what?
So you can get to know her better. Become friends.
I drove there, not to be friendly but to keep an eye on Alice.
The flat was a maze of boxes and suitcases. Alice barked orders at my father:
Victor, that goes in the bedroom! No, not there! Carefulfragile!
Victor hauled boxes, sweating, oblivious to me.
Hello, I said politely.
Alice turned, beaming.
Oh, Emily! Sorry, I didnt see you. Victor, look, our daughters arrived! You said she wouldnt come!
Victor wiped dust from his forehead.
Emily, could you give us a hand? Theres a lot to sort!
I began unpacking. In one box I found fine china edged in gold; in another, silk bedding; in a third, rows of perfume bottles.
Alice, is all this yours? I asked.
My own, of course! And whose else? she replied, pulling dresses from a bag and hanging them. Victor, clear out half the wardrobe! No, the whole lot! I have so many things!
Victor nodded obediently.
What about your stuff, Dad?
In another cupboard, the hall. Ill make room.
Alice, I need space for my shoes! she shouted from the hallway. Only old boots here! Toss them out!
Theyre mine! I protested. I left them here!
Sorry, I didnt know, Alice said, peering back. Take them then! Theres no room!
I clenched my teeth. Take my things from the flat I grew up in.
Dad, can we talk? I whispered.
Emily, later, please. Look at all the work!
No, now.
Victor sighed, stepping out onto the landing with his daughter.
What?
Do you see what shes doing? Shes kicking your belongings out, ordering you around.
Emily, shes your wife now. She needs to settle in.
Its on your money!
Its her house now! she snapped.
Its my flat! Mine and Mums!
It was Mums. Now its Alices.
I turned and fled up the stairs, ignoring his calls. At home I broke down, crying for the first time in ages. Mother was gone, Father was losing his mind, and Alice was taking over the house.
I called Andrew again.
What do you want to do? he asked.
I dont know! Stop it!
Emily, hes an adult. He can decide what to do with his life.
Shes using him!
Maybe. Or maybe she loves him. How would you know?
Feelings arent proof.
I hung up, feeling useless.
A week later Father phoned.
Emily, come for dinner. Alice is making your favourite.
My favourite?
Chicken and chips!
I hated chicken and chips; I preferred fish, but Father seemed to have forgotten.
I arrived. Alice greeted me in an apron, smiling.
Emily, have a seat! Itll be ready soon.
On the table lay chicken and chips, plus salad, bread, and a jug of compote.
Help yourself! Alice piled a generous portion onto Victors plate. Eat, love! Ive put a lot of effort into this!
Victor ate, grinning. I poked at the potatoes with my fork.
Not to your taste? Alice asked.
Its fine, just not hungry.
You should have come hungry! Ive cooked so hard! she pouted.
Dont be upset, Alice, Victor interjected. Emilys work is stressful; shes tired.
I understand, Alice waved her hand. By the way, Victor, Ive been thinking. We need to remodel.
A remodel? Victor looked up. Why?
Because everythings old! The wallpaper is peeling, the parquet creaks. We must replace it all!
But thats expensive
Whats the point of a new wife living in a rundown flat?
Victor fell silent.
I dont want that, but I have no money
Well find a way! Alice declared, gathering dishes. We could take a loan!
A loan? Im sixtytwo! Who would lend me money?
Theyll if we try. Or we could rent out a roomsay the loungeand live in the other two.
Rent a room? In a threebedroom flat?
Whats wrong with that? Money is never enough!
Its absurd!
Why? Plenty of people do it.
Dad, are you really discussing this? I asked, looking at him.
He sank his head onto the table.
Maybe we could consider it
What are we considering? This is madness!
Emily, stay out of it, Victor whispered. It isnt your business.
I stood frozen. It was my familys home, not my business.
Fine, I said. If it isnt mine, Ill leave.
I walked out, slamming the door.
I called Andrew again, venting.
Andrew, say something!
What can I say? Hes an adult. If he wants to remodel and rent a room, thats his choice.
But its ridiculous!
Ridiculous is his decision.
I hung up, feeling powerless.
A month passed. I barely visited Father, calling only occasionally. He once texted, Emily, how are you?
I replied, Fine. Later he called, his voice hoarse.
Emily, can I come stay with you?
Of course, Dad. Come over.
He arrived that evening, thin and weary, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea.
Whats wrong, Dad?
Im tired of everything.
Of what?
Of everything, he said, setting his cup down, eyes meeting mine. Emily, I think I made a mistake.
With Alice?
Yes. She isnt what she seemed.
Tell me.
He sighed.
She keeps demanding things. New dresses, restaurant meals, a remodel. I took out a loan for ten thousand pounds for the work, but she wants another twenty.
Twentythousand? For what?
For furniture. She wants the old pieces tossed and brandnew ones bought.
The old ones work fine!
I told her the same, but she accused me of being stingy, of not loving her.
I stayed silent.
She also wants a car. She says the buses are inconvenient. I told her I have no money. She suggested selling the flat, buying a smaller one, and using the difference for a car.
Sell the flat?! I snapped. Dad, do you realise what shes doing? Shes draining you!
I see it now, he said quietly. Its too late.
Why too late? Divorce!
How? Were already married
I sank into a chair. Wed signed the marriage papers a week ago; she had pushed for it, saying living together meant making it official.
Dad
Im a fool, Emily. An old fool. I thought Id found love, but I found trouble.
I took his hand.
Dad, we can fix this. Divorce, kick her out.
She has a right to the flat now. Were married.
She doesnt, if the flat was mine before we wed.
It was but I dont know how to prove it.
Theres paperwork! The title deed!
Victor nodded.
Probably Emily, help me. I cant do this alone.
Ill help, Dad. I promise.
I hired a solicitor and got advice. She said the property would stay with him if we proved it belonged to him before the marriage, and the documents were still in his possession.
I told my father. He gathered his courage and confronted Alice.
Alice threw a fit, crying, accusing Victor of greed, betrayal, of abandoning her after a month of marriage.
Ive given my life to you! she wailed. You cant throw me out!
Alice, weve only been married a month
And what? A month counts! I have rights!
No, you dont, Victor said firmly. The flat is mine. It will stay mine.
Alice sobbed, wiped her tears, stared at him coldly.
Fine then, Im leaving. But youll have to repay the loan yourself.
I will.
And finish the remodel on your own.
I will.
She packed her things and left. Victor sat at the kitchen table, staring into emptiness.
I arrived that evening. He was still at the same spot.
Dad, why are you just sitting there?
Thinking.
About what?
About how foolish I was, how I could have been so blind.
I sat beside him, hugging his shoulders.
Youre not foolish. You were lonely. You missed Mum.
I missed her so much I lost my head, he admitted.
It happens.
But now I see nobody can replace Nina. No one. I dont need another replacement. Better to be alone.
I pressed against him.
Youre not alone. Im here. Andrew, the grandchildren.
Youre right, Victor smiled. Thank you, my dear, for staying, for helping.
Im a daughter. Its my duty.
We drank tea together, then I helped him clear out the remnants Alice had leftdresses, shoes, cosmetics.
What am I keeping these for? he asked. Just reminders of my foolishness.
The divorce was finalized quickly; Alice didnt contest, knowing she wouldnt get the flat. She disappeared and never called again.
Victor returned to a normal routine: walks in HydePark, reading, watching television. I visited weekly, cooking meals and tidying up.
Emily, would you consider moving in? Its a big house, and Im lonely on my own.
No, Dad. I have my own flat, but Ill come more often.
Id be glad.
Six months later Victor cleared the loanAndrew helped with the money. The remodel was finished together, as a family. The place looked lovely, far from the gaudy style Alice wanted.
Its beautiful, Victor said, admiring the refreshed rooms. Mum would have approved.
She would have, he agreed. Nina loved cosy, simple homes, not showiness.
I hugged him.
Dad, you wont look for a new Mum now?
No, he answered firmly. Ive learned my lesson. Better to be alone peacefully than with someone unsuitable.
Exactly.
Victor lived alone for many more years. His children visited, grandchildren came over. The flat remained his sanctuary, his quiet harbour.
And Alice? A year later she married another older widower. I spotted her once in a shopping centre, still bright, heavily madeup, in an expensive dress, walking arminarm with a silverhaired gentleman carrying her bags. I passed by without a word, not wanting to recall that nightmare.
What stayed with me was how Father faced his error, owned it, and set things right. Not everyone can do that.
And I remembered Mumher gentle wisdom, her love, her knack for making a home warm without fuss or extravagance.
That, I realised, is true love: not flashy dresses or loud demands, but quiet care, patienceAnd as the sun set over the quiet garden, Victor whispered a grateful farewell to his past, knowing the peace hed earned would linger long after the last echo of footsteps faded.
