Don’t Worry, Dave! Cheer Up! At Least You Had an Amazing New Year’s Celebration!

“Dont worry, Simon! Cheer up! At least you had a brilliant New Years Eve!”

Here he was, back in his hometown. Simon stepped off the platform, crossed the station square, and headed for the bus stop. He hadnt told his wife he was coming home today.

His mood was lowhe was bracing for another unpleasant argument with Emily. Shed scold him again, complain, call him a selfish, uncaring man.

But uncaring? Hed tried to call her on New Years Eve, hadnt he? Shed switched her phone off. That was her choice!

For three days, hed tried ringing her. She never picked up. Finehe stopped calling too.

And, frankly, she couldnt even be bothered to wish his parents or sister a happy New Year, let alone him. Hed tell her that the moment he walked in.

She wasnt innocent either. If she wanted to play the blame game, hed give as good as he got. Best defence is a good offence, right?

Simon squared his shoulders and marched into his building, ready for a fight.

The flat was silent when he unlocked the door.

“Oi! Anyone home? Emily, Im back!” His voice echoed through the empty rooms. No answer.

He checked the kitchennothing. The living roomempty. The spare roomthe same. But then he noticed the changes. The cot by the wall was gone. So was the chest of drawers with the changing mat on top. The pram her parents had bought themvanished.

He rushed to the wardrobe. The side where Emilys clothes usually hung was bare.

“Has she lost her mind? Left me?” Simon muttered.

He dialled his mother-in-law. No answer. Then he tried calling KateEmilys best friend. Still nothing. Finally, he got through to Michael, Kates husband.

“Mike, mate, pass the phone to Katecant get hold of her.”

“Kates in the countryside with the kidswe celebrated New Years there. Receptions dodgy.”

“I got back yesterdaywork today. Theyre still relaxing,” Michael said. “Why dyou need Kate?”

“Thought she might know where Emily is. I got home, and shes gone. All the baby stuffs missing,” Simon said.

“Hold onyour wife was due any day now, wasnt she? You left her alone over the holidays?” Michael sounded stunned.

“She didnt want to come! The due date was the tenth or eleventhplenty of time to travel.”

“Congratulations, you absolute muppet,” Michael scoffed.

“Why?” Simon frowned.

“Because youre probably single now, you daft git. Call the hospitalshes probably there.”

Ten days earlier.

“I dont get it, Simon,” his mother had said over the phone. “Why stay home for the holidays? If Emily wont come, you come alone. Shes not due for nearly two weeksyoull be back in time.”

“Everyones gatheringAunt Vera and Uncle Steve, Natalie and Vic, Olivia and Paul. Me and your dad, Vicky and Glen. Vicky booked us a countryside hotelfour nights, from the thirtieth to the second.”

“New Years Eve banquet, live entertainment. I paid for yousettle up later. Stay till Twelfth Night, then head back. Youll make it before Emilys due.”

Emily had refused to go.

“Simon, I could go into labour any day. Imagineeveryone celebrating while Im in agony. And that hotels miles from anywherewhat if the ambulance takes ages?”

“No. Im not going.”

“Your mothers rightwomen these days treat pregnancy like an illness and childbirth like a bloody medal. She had three of you and still managed everything.”

Simon knew Emily had a point. But the thought of a dull New Years Eve at homejust the two of them, a modest meal (Emily had already said she wasnt cooking properly)left him miserable.

Meanwhile, his family would be laughing, dancing, singing in some fancy restaurant.

So he went alone.

The hotel was brilliant. Just before midnight, he slipped out to call Emily. She didnt answer.

“Fine. Be like that. You couldve been here too,” he thought.

The next morning, his mother made her feelings clear.

“Emily couldnt even call to wish us a happy New Year. See? This is what happens when you spoil your wife. She doesnt understand family. Let her sit alone and think about that.”

Emily hadnt been thinking about them. If anything, shed thought of Simoncertainly not her in-laws and their endless relatives.

Her parents, hearing shed be alone, invited her over. They hadnt planned a big celebrationher brother worked shifts in London and wouldnt be visiting.

At nine on New Years Eve, as Emily and her mother set the table, the contractions started.

An ambulance was called. Her mother went with her; her father followed in his car.

Emily welcomed the New Year in a hospital bed. Her parents waited in the lobby. By half past midnight, she was holding her son.

Simon took Michaels advice and rang the hospital.

“Worthington? Discharged yesterday,” the receptionist said.

“What? Already?”

“Yes. First of January, half twelve.”

“Who picked her up?”

“Sir, we dont log that.”

Her parents must have taken her. Shed be at theirs now.

He bought roses and went straight there.

The door opened. His father-in-law stood there, arms crossed.

“Yes?”

“Im here for Emily,” Simon said.

“Why?”

“Im her husband.”

“Emily!” her father called. “Some bloke here says hes your husband. Want to talk to him?”

“No. Tell him to leave.”

Her father shrugged.

“She doesnt. Goodbye.”

The door shut.

Simon waited, then knocked again.

This time, his mother-in-law answeredtall, broad, loud. Truthfully, she intimidated him.

“Did you not hear the first time?”

“Let me in. I have a right”

She snatched the roses and thwacked him across the face with them.

“Your rights? Your solicitor will explain those soon enough. Dont call againmy grandsons sleeping.” She tossed the roses at his feet and slammed the door.

Simon went home, rubbing his faceroses were pretty, but the thorns stung.

He called his mother.

“They wouldnt even let me see my son.”

“Dont fret. Shell come crawling back. Where else will she go with a baby? Dont call. Dont send money. Let her parents foot the billsee how clever they are then. A week or two, shell be back. Sleep nowwork tomorrow.”

Simon did. He ate a ready meal and went to bed.

He slept soundlyunaware it was his last night in that flat.

The next evening, he returned to find his belongings boxed up on the landing.

His mother-in-law opened the door. The flat was hers, after all.

“Well, dear son-in-law? Remember your old uni digs, or shall I remind you? Take your things. Whats left goes in the bin tomorrow.”

Simon moved back into halls.

They divorced. He considered renting a flat, but after child support and spousal maintenance, his wages barely covered basics.

“Budget better,” Michael said. “Youre saving for your own place now. Cheer upat least you had a cracking New Years!”

Emily lived with her parents for three years. They helped with little Jake, renting out her flat.

When she returned to work, she and Jake moved back in. After redecorating, no trace of Simon remained.

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