Youve got yourself in deep now, mate
Jack didnt rush home after work. His rented flat in London hardly felt like homejust a temporary stopgap. He took the long way back, driving through the rain as it hammered against the windscreen. The wind tore leaves from the trees, and one stubborn yellow leaf clung to the wiper on the passenger side. Summer was gone, that warm, golden time his dad used to joke about. “Soft summer for soft folk,” he’d say with a laugh.
His dad. No saint, that onefond of a drink. Mum would scold, but Jack loved it when he came home tipsy. Thats when hed turn gentle, slipping Jack a few quid. The next day, after school, Jack would race to the shop, dreaming of a Swiss Army knife like Toms or a bottle of Coke with a bag of crisps.
Simpler times. Back when the world made sense, when his parents were there to shield him, explain things, give advice. And back then, there was a girlEmily. Delicate, with fair hair and clear blue eyes. A strong gust mightve carried her away, so he always held her hand.
But it never grew into anything more. He only kissed her once, just a brief press of lips to lips. All he wanted was to walk somewhere far away, hand in hand with her.
Her father was military. Shed joined their school in Year 8, but by Year 11, he got new orders, and the whole family moved to Manchester.
How many times had he wanted to call or text her? But what then? They werent coming back, and hed never set foot in Manchester. Why torture himself with hope? She mustve thought the sameshe never reached out either.
Yet her memory clung stubbornly to his heart. Every girl he met after had to remind him of Emily. None ever matched the image in his mindor the one hed invented. He couldnt tell the difference anymore.
His wife was nothing like Emily. Well, she chose him, really. Theyd been at uni together, same course. She dated other blokes, and she wasnt his type. But after their third year, they did work placement at the same firm. Walked home together often. Sarah came from some villagethough she insisted it was a “market town.”
Summer emptied the dorms. Most students left, but Sarah stayed. One evening, she invited him over. “Made a proper roast,” she said. “Too much for one.”
He went, bored and curious. His mates warned him about girls like herdesperate to snag a Londoner, marry their way into the city. “Watch yourself, or youll wake up with a ring on your finger,” theyd say.
The roast was goodbetter than his mums. Then came the inevitable. At the last second, he hesitated, but Sarah whispered, “Im on the pill.” The rest of placement was a blur of reckless nights. He didnt love her. What he felt for her was nothing like what hed felt for Emily.
Term started, and they barely spoke outside lectures. Then, a month in, she cornered him in the corridor. “Im pregnant.”
“You said you were on the pill.”
“Missed a few. Never had a problem before.” She bit her lip. “I cant get rid of itwhat if I cant have kids after?”
He pitied her. And, truth be told, hed grown used to her. He told his parents, introduced her. Sarah won his mum over instantlyhelped set the table, dropped a few cooking tips.
“Such a homemaker,” his mum said later. “At least I know he wont starve.”
They married before Christmas. White dress, cake, stupid games. Who came up with the tradition of carrying brides over bridges? His mates ribbed him the whole way
“Big steps, Jack. Get used to marching like this the rest of your life.”
Sarah wasnt some fragile thing”sturdy as an oak,” as they say. He sweated, but he got her across without dropping her.
Thats when he knew he was trapped.
At first, married life wasnt bad. His parents stretched their savings to buy them a one-bed flat. Sarah nested, kept the fridge stocked. His mum sang her praises whenever she visited.
Then the baby came. Everything changed. Sarah took leave. His mum still worked, but she helped evenings. Jack switched to part-time studies, took a job at the firm where theyd done placement.
He dragged himself to work exhausted. Lily was colicky, kept them up all night. The second he got home, Sarah shoved the screaming baby into his arms. But when his mum visited, magic happened. Lily quieted instantly in her arms. Sarah rested. His mum cooked, tidied, fixed everything.
Leaving, shed murmur, “Dont rush into a second one. You do your part, son.”
After marriage and the baby, Sarah never missed a pill. Jumped up mid-sleep to check. Shouldve been that careful from the start.
The flat grew cramped, but money was tight. Jack got his degree, hunted for better jobs. Jumped from one to anothereither the pay was rubbish, or they wanted him to cut corners.
“Honest work doesnt pay. Others managelearn how,” Sarah snapped when he quit again.
But he couldnt cheat. He carried the family alone while Sarah finished her degree. Then she landed a job as a directors assistantdecent pay, good prospects. Two salaries, yet still never enough.
“Maybe cut back on the wardrobe,” he grumbled.
“Im front-facing. Need to look professional. You couldve found something better.”
Sarah worked late often. Meetings, client dinners. Jack seethed. Rare was the day without a row. Then one evening, she said she was done.
“You know we cant split the flat. Lily needs stability. Youll have to go.”
“Knew this was coming. You held out longer than I expected.” His voice was flat. “Found someone richer?”
“If youd listened to me, we wouldnt be here.”
“You never loved me. I was just your ticket out of that village”
“Youve never lived in one. Never hauled water, chopped wood”
He smirked. Finally admitted it was a village.
“Pack my things. Dont want you ‘accidentally’ keeping anything.”
She did, neat and methodical. He couldnt face his parents, so he rented a room. Just like thatno family, no home, just child support. He drank. Couldnt sleep without whisky. His neighbour, another lost soul, often joined him.
“Lucky sod. Drink all you wantno wife to nag,” the bloke said, then scurried home the second his own wife came knocking.
After losing another job, Jack knew he had to stop. Otherwise, hed hit rock bottom.
“Got any?” The neighbour waved an empty bottle.
“Sorry, dry now. Mates got me a job. Need to stay sharp.”
“Suit yourself.”
That night, staring at dark windows across the street, he ached for a drink.
The job was courier work for an online retailer. One delivery took him to a posh neighbourhood. The door opened, and his breath caughtshe looked just like Emily.
“Do you assemble furniture?” she asked.
“Just delivery. No one to put it together?” He wanted to help her. “I could. After my shift.”
“Really? Ill pay whatever you say.”
“Eight oclock work?”
All day, he thought of her. Got delayed, swung home to change. Didnt arrive till nearly ten.
“Sorry Im late.”
“No worries. Come in.”
Two hours assembling the wardrobe. The smell of something delicious from the kitchen made his stomach growl. He hadnt eaten properly all day. When he finished, she invited him to the kitchen. He lived on toast and takeaways nowadays.
Her name was Claire. He thought she was a student, but she proudly said she worked in marketing. The wardrobe was done, dinner eaten. No reason to stay. He thanked her, refused payment. Lingered in the hallway, fumbling with his shoes. Didnt want to leave her cosy flat. Didnt want to leave *her*.
She waited, hand on the door. Then, impulsively, he kissed her. Just a brush of lips. She didnt pull away. So he kissed her properly.
“Sorry,” he muttered, bolting.
Flew down the stairs, grinning like an idiot all the way home.
His neighbour appeared instantly, bottle in hand.
“Took your time. Fancy a drink?”
“Gave it up. And no snacks, sorry.”
The neighbour left, sighing. Jack sat at the kitchen table, telling himself to forget her. Claire was out of his league. No use dreaming.
Two days later, she called.
“Its Claire. You assembled my wardrobe. I kept your number.”
“Right. Something wrong with it?”
“No, nothing. Just could you come over? Ive got”
