Andrews mobile rang nonstoptexts, calls, voice notessomething like ten a day.
He begged, he shouted, he even pretended to be the victim.
Eleanor, I dont know what hit me, I went off the rails
You cant treat me like that; everything you have is thanks to me!
Without me youre nothing!
I was perched in the tiny kitchen of my rented flat, sipping lemon tea, watching the snow fall softly outside.
I felt neither hatred nor pity. Just calm.
For the first time in twenty yearscalm.
A month after he threw me out, I returned to the townnot to his door but to the council office.
In my hands I clutched a slim folder of papers: a marriage certificate, a notarial deed, a claim for division of property.
The house hed evicted me from was jointly owned.
Half of it was mine.
He was convinced I was a simple woman who didnt understand paperwork.
But I remembered every penny Id poured into the repairsnight shifts, loans, bonuses.
The property officer, an elderly lady with spectacles, smiled at me:
Well done, Miss. Youve done everything by the book. Hes got no chance.
While the solicitors prepared the case, I started a new life.
At the private clinic that hired me, everyone was politely distant. For the first time in years I heard, Thank you, Eleanor.
Next door to the clinic was a tiny flower shop. The salesmana tall gentleman called Stanley, with silver hair and warm eyeshanded me a blossom each morning.
Here you go, Miss Eleanor. White flowers suit you.
The first time I refused. The second time, too.
On the third, I accepted.
After so many humiliations, a simple act of kindness felt miraculous.
One evening the phone rang. On the other end was Aunt Valerie, the neighbour whod seen me get the boot.
Elli, come over hes in a bad state. Sitting alone, drinking, talking nonsense.
I didnt want to go.
But I wentnot out of pity, but to see for myself that the past was truly behind me.
The yard was overgrown, the awning collapsed, the windows were peppered with holes.
On the steps sat Andrewunshaven, in a shabby coat, a pint in his hand.
When he saw me, he leapt up as if hed seen a ghost.
Eleanor! My God, youre stunning
Youve certainly aged, I said calmly.
He set the can down, bowed his head, then, voice cracking:
I realise how foolish I was. The house is empty, the friends are gone Forgive me. Come back.
I stared at him and felt nothing.
No resentment, no sorrow. Just cool indifference.
He was a stranger now.
Andrew, I told him, Im not here to make a comeback. Im here to talk about the house.
What house? This is my home!
No. Half of it is mine.
I turned as white as a sheet, as if Id been hit.
You have no right! You left on your own!
Not you you threw me out, in front of everyone. I pulled the documents from my bag. Everythings with my solicitor now.
His eyes flared, his voice trembled:
Will you ruin me? After everything I did for you?
After everything you did to me, I just want justice.
Two weeks later the court ruled: half the house was mine, plus damages.
He didnt appear at any hearing.
Later he called, shouted, beggedbut it was too late.
I sold my share and bought a modest flat in town.
For the first time I had my own key, my own morning coffee aroma, my own peace.
Sometimes Id recall that nightstanding barefoot in the snow, my robe flapping.
It had been my greatest humiliation.
Now it was my fresh start.
One day Stanley the florist said to me:
You know, Eleanor, a person only truly begins to live when they lose everything.
He was right.
Eventually we met more oftenno drama, no promises, no scenes.
Hed simply turn up in the evening with a mug of tea and ask:
Had a hard day?
That question carried more love than my whole marriage ever did.
Six months later I spotted him again, this time in a supermarket.
He was hard to recognisestill unshaven, a cheap bottle of gin in his basket, eyes glazed.
Eleanor he said, I just wanted to talk.
Theres nothing to say. You already said everything that night.
I thought youd forgive me.
I have forgiven you, I replied, but I havent forgotten.
I walked out. The air smelled of fresh bread and cleanliness.
I headed home, to the place where waited a man who would never evict me again.
Behind me, the past lingeredquiet, powerless, lost.
Now I understand: that night when he tossed me out in a robe was a gift.
Without it Id never have learned what dignity means.
The bottom isnt the end.
Its the place you push off from.
I pushed off.
And I flew.
