Years ago, in a quiet corner of Yorkshire, Edward turned to his wife one evening without looking up from the newspaper. “You might as well leaveits easier with just Mum and me,” he said, as casually as if commenting on the weather.
Alice paused, the wooden spoon hovering over the pot of bubbling beef stew. Steam curled toward the ceiling, but she stood frozen, the words ringing in her ears. She hadnt imagined it. The silence in the kitchen was deafening.
“What did you say?” She set the spoon down slowly and turned to face him.
“You heard me. We managed fine before you came along, and well manage again,” Edward replied, flipping the page of his paper.
Alice sank onto a stool. Three years ago, shed arrived at this house as a hopeful young bride, dreaming of a familySunday roasts, children playing in the garden, a life built together. Her mother-in-law, Margaret, had been cool but polite, and Alice had trusted time would soften things. Shed wanted so badly to belong.
“Edward, whats brought this on?” Her voice wavered.
“Oh, dont act daft,” he scoffed. “Youve always been out of place here. Mum knew it from the start. What do I need a wife for, when she only complicates things?”
As if summoned, Margaret appeared in the doorway, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Shed clearly been listening.
“Eddie, love, dont fret yourself. Your blood pressure,” she murmured, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And Alice, dear, perhaps it *is* best you go back to your parents for a while. A bit of peace might do you good.”
Alice looked between them. Edward nodded in agreement, and something inside her shatterednot with a crash, but quietly, like a soap bubble bursting.
“What have I done wrong?” she asked, her voice eerily calm.
Margaret narrowed her eyes. “Look at yourself! The house is a mess, your cookings barely passable, and youve come between us. My boy used to confide in me, but now he keeps quiet.”
“Shes right,” Edward added. “Everything was calm before. Now theres always something youre nagging about.”
Alice remembered the night beforeshed asked him to fix the curtain rod in their room, and hed brushed her off, too tired from work. Yet when Margaret needed a shelf hung in the lavatory, hed jumped up straightaway.
“*Im* nagging?” she repeated. “Edward, the kitchen taps been dripping for three weeks, and you still havent looked at it.”
“Oh, the *tap*,” he snapped. “Mum never bothered me with trifles.”
“Because I took care of things myself,” Margaret cut in. “But youyou expect everything handed to you.”
Alice stood and began clearing the table, her movements mechanical. When shed met Edward, hed seemed so independenta foreman at the mill, his own car, a house. True, hed lived with his mother, but that wasnt unusual, especially after his parents divorce.
“You know what?” she said, stacking dishes. “I *will* leave. Maybe it *will* be easier for you.”
“Quite right,” Margaret said smugly. “Young people rush into marriage without a thought for whether they suit.”
Edward stayed silent, eyes fixed on the paper. The credits of some programme rolled on the telly, but Alice doubted he saw them. He just couldnt look at her.
“Ill finish supper first,” she added. “No sense wasting good stew.”
The mundane words sounded almost ceremoniallike the final note of a song no one had been listening to.
She ladled the stew, sliced the bread, set out the butter. Every motion was deliberate, as if memorising this last meal in this house.
“Come eat while its hot,” she called.
Edward slouched to the table. Margaret took a bite and frowned. “Too much salt.”
Alice said nothing. She ate in silence, listening to the grandfather clock in the hallan heirloom from Edwards gran, its chime keeping her awake for months after the wedding. Now it was just part of the noise.
“Where will you go?” Edward asked suddenly.
“To my parents for now. Then Ill see.” She pushed her half-full plate away. “Ive got my jobIll manage.”
“Your parents live miles off,” Margaret pointed out. “How will you get to work?”
“Ill manage,” Alice repeated.
Margaret hesitated, doubt flickering in her eyes. Perhaps it had only just dawned on her that Alice meant it.
“Dont be silly,” Edward blurted. “We had a rowit happens.”
Alice studied him. Did he really think this was just a squabble? That tomorrow shed fry his eggs and life would go on as before?
“Edward, *you* told me to leave,” she reminded him.
“WellI didnt mean it. Men say stupid things.”
“In the heat of the moment?” She gave a dry laugh. “I think youve meant it for a while.”
She rose to clear the plates. Edward finished his meal but kept glancing at her. Margaret, unusually quiet, fiddled with the bread bin.
“Alice,” he said as she washed up. “Stay. Well sort it outjust us.”
“*Sort it out*,” she echoed, not turning around. “Im tired of sorting. I want a proper life.”
“Whats not proper about ours?”
Alice turned off the tap, dried her hands, and faced him.
“Whats not proper, Edward, is that after three years here, Im still a guest. An unwelcome one.”
“Thats rubbish!” Margaret protested. “I treated you like family!”
“Did you?” Alice smiled sadly. “Margaret, in three years, you never once thanked menot for cooking, cleaning, or washing. But you never missed a chance to point out my mistakes.”
“WellIm strict, yes. But it was for your own good! To make you a proper homemaker!”
“You cant be a homemaker in someone elses house. And Im done being a guest.”
Edward stood and paced. “Alice, youre exaggerating. Weve been happy enough.”
“Happy? When was the last time we did anything just us? Talked properly?”
He faltered. “We went to the cinema last month.”
“With your mother. And she picked the film.”
“Wellshe wanted to see it too…”
“*She* wants, *she* doesnt want,” Alice sighed. “What *I* want doesnt matter.”
Margaret stood, huffing as she put the bread away. “Dont twist this on me. I raised Eddie alone, sacrificed everything. And now youd shut me out?”
“I dont want to shut anyone out! I just wanted a *family*, not a… a boarding house!”
The grandfather clock struck half-eight. Four hollow chimes filled the silence.
“So youve decided?” Edward asked quietly.
“I have.”
He nodded, sat back down, and picked up his phone.
“Pack your things, then. Mum and I are fixing the garden fence tomorrow.”
Alice opened her mouth but only nodded and left. Upstairs, she pulled out the suitcase shed arrived withthe hopeful brides luggageand began folding clothes. Dresses, blouses, jeans. It all fit easily; she hadnt accumulated much.
Edward lingered in the doorway as she fastened the case.
“Must you rush off?” he asked, leaning against the frame.
“Ive waited three years, Edward. Thats long enough.”
He followed her to the hall, helped with her coat. His hands shook as he passed her the bag.
“Alice” he started.
“Dont,” she said softly. “It *is* better this way. Easier for you.”
The door closed with a quiet click. Alice descended the steps, called a cab. The driver, a kindly older man, loaded her case.
“Long trip?” he asked.
“Just to the station.”
“Work, is it?”
Alice glanced back at the house. The kitchen light still burned. Margaret was likely washing the dishes shed left.
“No,” she said. “Im going home.”
As the cab pulled away, she dialled her parents. “Mum? Its me… Yes, Im all right. Can I come stay a few days? Yes, alone…”
Her mother asked no questions, only said shed be waiting. Alice leaned back, watching streetlights blur past. It felt strangenot the sharp pain shed expected, but a hollow lightness, like setting down a heavy load.
“You know,” she told the driver, “I think Im doing the right thing.”
“If your heart says so, then you are,” he replied, smiling in the mirror. “Lifes long. We learn as we go.”
At the station, she bought a ticket and waited. Few travellers dotted the benches. When Edward called, she
