Waking up in the middle of the night for a glass of water, Emma heard a conversation between her husbands parents, and by morning she had filed for divorce.
Emma brushed her hair back and stared at Jamess parents house. The twostorey brick home in Surrey always seemed far too large for an elderly couple.
Ready? James asked, pulling the suitcases out of the boot.
Of course, Emma replied with a smile. Fifteen years of marriage had taught her how to mask discomfort.
The front door opened for Mary, wearing a fresh housecoat.
Oh, youre here, Jamesy, she said, hugging her son and giving his cheek a quick kiss. She glanced briefly at Emma. Hello, Emma.
Hello, Emma said, handing over a box of chocolates.
Dont trouble yourself. Your fathers diabetes is getting worse, Mary added.
James said nothing, as usual.
In the living room, John sat watching the news. He gave a nod, then turned his attention back to the screen.
Dinner will be ready in an hour, Mary announced. James, could you help me in the kitchen? Emma, you just relax.
Relax, as if she were a invalid.
Emma slipped into the guest room, stashed her suitcase in the wardrobe and perched on the edge of the bed. Through the thin wall she could hear James and his mother discussing work, the neighbours, health.
Why did they come here every month? For show? Or did James truly miss his parents?
Emma, darling, come and eat! Mary called. On the table lay roast chicken, potatoes and saladexactly the same as every other night.
James mentioned you spent your holiday in Spain again, Mary began. When we were your age we went to the cottage. We helped the country.
Times have changed, Emma replied.
Yes, they have. Back then the family mattered more than any holiday, Mary said.
Emmas fists clenched. James chewed his chicken in silence.
And when are you planning to have children? John asked, looking up from his plate. The years are slipping by. Weve talked about it, Mum, James muttered.
Talked and talked. And what has come of it? Mary pressed.
Emma stood up.
Excuse me, Ive got a headache. Ill be in early, she said.
She shut the bedroom door and sat on the bed, her hands trembling. The same old hints, the reproaches, the disapproving glances.
James returned half an hour later.
Whats wrong with you?
Nothing, just tired, she replied.
They mean no harm. Theyre just worried about us, James said.
Worried. Emma lay back and stared at the wall.
Good night.
James undressed, climbed into the bed beside her, and soon was snoring.
Emma lay awake, thinking about the snide remarks that would follow at breakfast, about Jamess habit of pretending not to see anything.
Fifteen years. Was this to last forever?
She woke at three in the morning, throat dry, head buzzing. James was still snoring, sprawled across the whole mattress.
She threw on a robe and padded to the kitchen for water. A nightlight glowed in the hallway; the floorboards creaked underfoot.
From the kitchen came voicesher fatherinlaw and motherinlaw.
putting up with that barren cow, hissed Mary. Fifteen years! No kids, no purpose.
Shh, someone will hear, grunted John.
Let her hear! Maybe shell finally feel ashamed. James could have any womangood looking, well off. Emma pressed herself against the wall, her heart pounding so loudly it seemed the whole house could hear.
So whats the plan?
Talk to him tomorrow. A serious talk. A man needs to understand that time isnt endless. At fortythree he can still start a proper family.
And the flat? The car?
The flat is in Jamess name; we funded the deposit. The car is his too. Shell only get what she earns herself.
Mary let out a harsh laugh. And thats peanuts. A damned librarian.
You think hell agree?
Of course. Im his mother; I know how to speak to him. The key is to frame it right. Youre unhappy, son, suffering with that whats her name
Emma.
Right, that one. Time to get rid of the dead weight!
Emma stood frozen, unable to swallow the words. Dead weight. Fifteen years, and she was now called dead weight.
And if he refuses?
He wont. James has always listened to me. He will now too.
The kitchen rustled with bags, dishes clattered.
All right, time for bed. Big day tomorrow.
Emma rushed to the bathroom, locked the door, sat on the toilet lid and covered her face with her hands.
Dead weight. A barren cow.
For fifteen years she had triedcooking for holidays, giving gifts, enduring hints and reproaches. And now they were plotting to discard her like old furniture.
And James would obey. Hed never disobeyed his mother.
She returned to the bedroom. James still snored. She pulled the blanket over herself and waited for morning.
At seven she rose, dressed, and packed her suitcase. James stirred.
Emma, why so early?
Im going home.
What? We were supposed to stay until evening.
I want to go home. Now.
James sat up, rubbed his eyes.
What happened?
Nothing. I just want to go home.
And my parents? Theyll be upset.
Your parents. Emma grabbed her bag.
Tell them I said hello. Say I had a headache.
Ill come with you.
No. Stay. Spend time with your parents.
She left the room, slipped on her coat, and pulled out her phone. She ordered a taxi.
Emma, where are you off to? Mary called from the kitchen. Breakfast is ready.
Im going home. Thank you for your hospitality.
But why so early?
Emma met her motherinlaws painted lips and surprised eyes.
I have things to do at home.
The taxi arrived ten minutes later. Emma slid into the back seat and closed her eyes.
The dead weight was disposing of her on its own.
At home, Emma brewed a strong cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table. The flat was unusually quiet. Usually they returned in the evening, tired, ate dinner and went straight to bed.
But it was Saturday, eleven oclock, and she was alone.
The phone rangJames.
Emma, did you get home alright?
Yes.
Whats going on? Mum says you were acting strange.
Emma smiled faintly.
Everythings fine. How are your parents?
Theyre fine Listen, Ill come over tonight. Well talk.
Alright.
She hung up and looked around the flat they had chosen together, the furniture theyd bought together. Only the deposit had come from Jamess parents, so by their logic the flat wasnt really hers.
Emma went to the wardrobe, pulled out a folder with documentsmarriage certificate, lease papersall in both names.
Another lie from the old hag.
On Monday she took a day off and visited a solicitor, a young woman in jeans and a sweater.
Want to file for divorce?
Yes.
Any children?
No.
Do you anticipate a property dispute?
Emma thought.
Possibly.
If so, it will go through court. Well file a petition, youll be summoned for a hearing. If he doesnt agree, there will be several hearings.
And if he agrees?
Itll be quickerabout six to eight weeks.
Emma completed the forms and paid the court fee. A strange lightness settled over her, as if a heavy backpack had been thrown away.
That evening James arrived at eight, looking tired and irritable.
What a day Mums been nagging nonstop. She says you shouted at her.
I didnt shout.
Then what? Why did you bolt like that?
Emma set a bowl of beef stew in front of him.
James, do you love me?
He swallowed.
Whats with the questions?
Im just curious. Do you love me?
Of course I do. Fifteen years together.
Thats not an answer. You could live fifteen years out of habit.
James set his spoon down.
Emma, whats happening? Youve been different for two days.
Answer the question.
Well I love you. So what?
What will you say if your parents suggest we get divorced?
Jamess face darkened. He lowered his gaze.
Thats nonsense. Why would they?
And if they do?
They wont.
James, Im askingwhat will YOU say?
A long pause. James crumpled the napkin in his hand.
Emma, why are you talking like this? Were fine.
Fine isnt an answer.
I dont know! He pushed away from the table. Im fed up with these questions. Two days ago everything was fine, and now what happened?
Emma stood as well.
Nothing happened. I just realized something.
Realized what?
That Ive been a fool for fifteen years.
She went to the bedroom, retrieved the folder from the wardrobe, returned to the kitchen and laid the divorce petition on the table.
James read it and went pale.
Are you out of your mind?
On the contrary. For the first time in a long while Im thinking clearly.
Because of what? Because of my mother? She didnt mean anything by it!
I know she didnt. She just thinks Im dead weight.
James froze.
How did you
I overheard your familys planning meeting last night, in the kitchen.
Its not what I think
What is it then?
He stayed silent, turning the petition over in his hands.
Say something, Emma said, sitting opposite him.
James placed the petition back on the table.
Mom really did talk about kids. That there isnt much time.
And did she also mention dead weight?
Emma, shes old. She says foolish things sometimes.
And what did you say?
James rubbed his forehead.
I didnt say anything.
Exactly. As always.
Emma stood, poured herself a cup of tea. Her hands no longer shook. She felt a calm she hadnt expected.
For fifteen years I waited for you to finally stand up for me, to tell your mother Im your wife, not a temporary guest, she said.
Theyre used to being in charge
And youre used to obeying. And you made me obey.
James sprang up.
I didnt make anyone obey! I just dont like conflict.
Conflict? Emma laughed. Its called defending your wife. But you preferred that I just endure.
So what now? You cant change the past.
Nothing needs changing. Its already done.
James grabbed the petition.
I wont sign this!
You dont have to. The court will grant the divorce.
Emma, think! Where will you go? What will you do?
I dont know yet. But Ill do it without the three of you.
He paced, waving his arms.
This is madness! To smash a family over an old womans words!
Family? Emma set down her cup. What family, James? Where do you see a family?
We we live together
We live like flatmates in a shared house. You work, I work. We see each other at night and watch TV. On weekends we go to your parents, where I pretend to be grateful that they tolerate me.
James sat down.
And whats wrong with that? Its a normal life.
Normal for you. Im tired of being nobody.
The phone rang. Marys voice came through.
Dont pick up, James begged.
Emma answered.
Hello.
Emma, dear! Is James home? I wanted to see how things are.
Things are fine. Im divorcing your son.
Silence, then:
What? What are you saying?
Im doing exactly what you wanted. Im getting rid of myself for you.
Emma, I dont understand
You will. Say hello to John.
She hung up. James stared at her, horrified.
Why did you tell her?
Why keep it hidden? Let her be happy.
Half an hour later Mary burst into the flat without knocking.
Whats happening? James, explain this at once!
Mom, not now
Emma! She turned to her daughterinlaw. What are you up to? Have you lost your mind?
Emma sat calmly at the table.
On the contrary. Ive finally come to my senses.
About what? Did James mistreat you?
James ignored me. And you were planning to get rid of me.
Mary flushed.
Who told you that?
You did. Last night, in the kitchen.
You were eavesdropping?
I needed a drink of water and heard you calling me dead weight.
Mary glanced between them.
Emma, you misunderstood. I worry about Jameshes unhappy
Mom, thats enough, James said suddenly.
She blinked.
What do you mean, enough?
Enough lies. Yes, you wanted us to divorce. And yes, I listened and kept quiet. Like always.
James!
And now Emma has decided for herself. And she did the right thing.
James looked at his wife in surprise. For the first time in fifteen years he spoke the truth to his mother.
But its too late, she added.
James nodded.
I understand.
Mary darted between them.
Youre both crazy! Emma, I apologise if I said anything wrong!
Thank you. But the decision is already made.
A month later the court finalised the divorce. The flat was split in half; Emma sold her share to James. The money bought her a modest studio in a leafy part of town.
The new flat was small but bright. Emma placed a vase of flowers on the windowsill and hung her pictures.
For the first time in years she did what she wanted. She watched the films she loved, ate when she felt like it, and faced no criticism.
James called in the first weeks, begging her to return, promising to speak to his parents. Emma answered politely, then the calls stopped.
Friends were shocked: how could she leave a welloff husband? Emmas answer was simplemoney cannot replace respect.
At fortyone she began a new life, free of a mute fatherinlaw, a snide motherinlaw, and a wishywashy husband.
Hard? Yes. Lonely? Sometimes.
But for the first time in many years Emma was no longer a burden; she was simply herself. And that, she realised, was worth any difficultya reminder that selfrespect is the foundation of a truly free life.
