Eleanor sat by the kitchen table, staring into the dark window pane. What did she hope to see out there? William? It was half-ten already, and still he hadn’t returned. If she smoked, she’d have taken a long drag then. Perhaps she ought to try it sometime.
How long could she pretend nothing was amiss? Did he truly think her such a fool, believing he was stuck late at work each night? His job didn’t require such hours. She’d wait for him, she decided, and demand the truth.
Once, she’d hailed a taxi and gone to his office. Simply decided to bring his dinner. Darkness filled every window of the building; only the foyer light burned dimly. Eleanor pressed the bell persistently until a bleary-eyed guard appeared behind the glass door. He flapped his hands dismissively, shooing her away.
«My husband said he’s working late. I brought him food,» Eleanor shouted, lifting the bag containing the container for emphasis. The thick glass muffled sound.
«No one here! Against rules. Off you go, or I’ll call the constabulary,» the older guard yelled back.
«So, husband working late?» the driver queried as Eleanor slumped back into the taxi.
«Yes, he said he’s at work,» she confirmed.
«They all say that,» the driver smirked.
Eleanor turned her head, fixing him with a look that instantly erased the smirk.
«My apologies. Men don’t leave women like you,» he said.
A dubious compliment, yet it pleased her nonetheless.
William arrived home barely ten minutes after Eleanor returned. She said nothing, ashamed of her outburst, her trip to the office. But next day, William returned from work dark as a storm cloud and launched into a row.
«What did you think you were doing? Spying on me? Don’t trust me? Why did you come to the office yesterday? Made a laughing stock of me. Humiliated me. The boss hauled me in, dressed me down like a schoolboy, said I couldn’t control my wife. The whole department’s ribbing me. Not one step near that office, understood?»
«And what am I supposed to do? You’re late every night. Are you cheating?»
«I *will* cheat if you don’t stop this surveillance! I’m a man. Can’t I unwind with mates? I’m no lad to account to you where I go, who I’m with…» William bellowed. «And don’t you dare call anyone asking!»
So, she was left feeling the guilty party. For a while though, William came home promptly. And now…again. «This existence is unbearable. I love him; I worry when he’s late. I’m weary of waiting. If he won’t say why he’s delayed, he’s hiding something. Not knowing is worse than bitter truth…»
Once, they’d adored each other, couldn’t get enough, counted the hours apart. William had seen off every other lad courting her. Carried her literally in his arms. Where had it vanished? And only eleven years gone by…
«Why did I send Oliver to his grandma’s for the summer? William wouldn’t dare carry on like this with him here. Besides, I’d have Oliver’s company. But what’s he to do all summer holidays in this stifling city? There’s pinewoods, fresh air, the stream, garden vegetables and fruit…»
The key turned in the lock. Eleanor jumped from the stool, poised to rush to him, but mastered herself and sat back down.
William removed his coat, saw the light and entered the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, gazing at Eleanor like a tiresome fly – irritating, yet impossible to swat away.
«Late at work again? They ought to pay you double for such zeal.» Eleanor met his gaze directly.
***
William studied his wife. «Still as lovely as ever. Filled out a touch, suits her even. Just her eyes… dimmed now. All my mates envy me my wife. And I’ve grown numb to her beauty long since; feel none of the old pull. Though other women, less striking even, stir me. I’m gratified when men look her way – but that’s all. Do all fellows feel this, I wonder?
Lord, she asked and expects another lie. Truly trusts me, oblivious? Or afraid to know? Maybe just tell her straight? But what is straight? The director’s got this new assistant who rebuffs everyone. The lads placed bets on who’d charm her first. Interest waned. But I caught the competitive spark…»
William had known women before her. A flicker of interest from him, and most agreed to bed him. Nature blessed him generously – tall, well-built, blokeish charm, handsome features. He kept muscles honed at the gym. No great effort needed to pull a woman. Got what he wanted, moved on. Kristina… different breed. Too-long she kept everyone at arm’s length, him included. A matter of honour then; he had to conquer her.
Once, her tyre went flat just leaving the office car park. He happened by perfectly. Pulled over, approached, offered help. No fuss, she accepted.
He swapped the tyre, offered to take the punctured one to the menders. Got filthy. Kristina invited him to her nearby flat to clean up.
The flat was tiny, cosy. Washing his hands in the bath, he eyed pots of cream, shampoo. Even sniffed a few. He emerged to find coffee brewing.
William wrestled with temptation to embrace, kiss her. Didn’t press; kept kisses back. Left, though he longed to stay. Knew patience brought her favour faster.
And it did. For a week, he merely nodded greetings, walked past. She cracked first, hailed him, asked help assembling a bookshelf. Leaving her place that time, he dared a kiss. She pressed close, but again he restrained himself.
He waited until she invited him over outright, no pretext. Simple then, like all the others. Nothing special. Disappointed him a bit, that did. Still, boasted differently to the lads, swaggered. Since then, frequent late nights at her place. Yet William couldn’t picture Kristina replacing Eleanor. Too self-reliant, remote. Countless visits, offered only sandwiches or pizza. Not a saucepan of soup nor joint of meat in the fridge. No whiff of home baking. Eleanor cooked divinely. Never empty larder. And Oliver…
«So why muddy the water? She wants faith? Fine.» All this raced through his mind in moments.
«Do you have another woman?» William heard, just as he meant to depart.
That was new. Never so blunt before. He floundered, lost for words.
«I’m for a shower and bed. Work tomorrow.» William vanished into the bath.
He thought she’d chase him, pester. She didn’t. Emerging, she remained at the table. Or were tears gleaming in her eyes? Too much. This wasn’t the arrangement. Panic seized him.
*Why endure? Why not leave?* Naturally, he voiced none of it. Sudden shame washed over him. He understood then: she loved him. Why else such forbearance? She didn’t deserve this. Always strived to be a good wife. Good? She *was* a good wife. And he was… a wretch.
William couldn’t bear her tears, the reproach in her dulled eyes. He turned, fled cowardly… to the bedroom, burrowed beneath the quilt. Nestling into sleep, the kitchen switch clicked. The mattress dipped; Eleanor settled beside him. Suddenly, she shifted close, pressed her damp, tear-stained face to his chest. William pulled her tight
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, accelerating into the deepening twilight, the road stretching endlessly before him just like the fragile chance to mend what he’d broken.