A Carer for the Wife — “What do you mean?” Lida thought she’d misheard. “Where am I supposed to move out to? Why? For what reason?” — “Oh, let’s not have a scene, alright?” He grimaced. “What’s not clear here? There’s no one left for you to care for. Where you go is no concern of mine.” — “Ed, what are you talking about? Weren’t we supposed to get married?..” — “That’s what you came up with. I never promised anything like that.” At 32, Lida decided it was time for a drastic change and to leave her little English village behind. What was left for her there? To keep listening to her mother’s nagging? Her mum just wouldn’t let it go, always bringing up the divorce—how could Lida let her husband slip away? And that Vas—he was never worth a kind word anyway—always drinking and running around! How did she ever manage to marry him eight years ago? Lida didn’t even feel upset when the divorce happened—on the contrary, she actually felt as though she could finally breathe. But she and her mother were always at loggerheads over it. And over money too—there just never seemed to be enough. So Lida decided she’d head to the local city centre and sort her life out there! Take her school friend Sally—she’d been married for five years to a widower. So what if he’s sixteen years older, and not much to look at, at least he’s got his own place and a bit of money. And Lida was every bit as good as Sally! — “Well, thank goodness! You’ve come to your senses!” Sally cheered her on. “Get packing, you can crash with us to start, and we’ll sort you out with a job.” — “Are you sure your Pete won’t mind?” Lida asked doubtfully. — “Oh please! He does whatever I ask! Don’t worry, we’ll be just fine!” Still, Lida didn’t want to overstay her welcome. She stayed for a couple of weeks until she’d earned enough for a room of her own. Then, only a couple of months later, luck finally smiled on her. — “Why is a woman like you selling vegetables at the market?” asked a regular customer, Mr. Edward Byrne, with a hint of sympathy. Lida knew all her regulars by name now. — “It’s cold, it’s miserable—I’m just trying to get by.” She joked, “Unless you’ve got a better offer?” Edward Byrne hardly looked like the man of her dreams—a good twenty years older than her, jowly, balding, with sharp eyes. He always chose his vegetables carefully and paid down to the last penny—but dressed smartly and drove a nice car, so he was no down-and-out drunk. He also wore a wedding ring, so husband material he definitely was not. — “I can see you’re a responsible, no-nonsense, clean sort,” Edward shifted to first names easily, “Ever cared for a sick person before?” — “I have, actually. I cared for a neighbour who had a stroke. Her kids live miles away and couldn’t be bothered. So they asked me.” — “Perfect!” said Edward, putting on a mournful face. “My wife, Tamara, had a stroke too. The doctors say she’s unlikely to recover. I’ve brought her home but don’t have time to care for her. Can you help? I’ll pay good money.” Lida didn’t have to think twice. Anything was better than freezing for ten hours at the market dealing with picky shoppers! Besides, Edward offered her a room—no more rent! — “There are three separate rooms! You could play football in there!” she told Sally happily. “No kids or anything.” Tamara’s mother was a real character too—at 68 still trying to look 40, recently remarried, always busy with her new husband. No one to care for her sick daughter. — “Is she really that ill?” Sally asked. — “Not much hope I’m afraid—she’s bedridden and just moans. She probably won’t get better.” — “And you’re happy about that?” Sally shot a look at her. — “No, of course not,” Lida glanced away, “but Edward might be free someday…” — “You serious, Lida? Wishing someone dead over a flat?” — “I’m not wishing anything! I just won’t miss my chance. Easy for you to judge—you’ve got everything perfect!” They fell out then, and for half a year didn’t speak—until Lida finally confided things had turned romantic with Edward. They couldn’t live without each other, but of course he’d never leave his wife—not his style. So for now things had to stay as they were. — “So you’re playing happy families while his wife’s dying in the next room?” Sally scolded. “Do you even see how awful that is? Or are you only blinded by his supposed riches?” — “You never have a kind word for me!” Lida snapped. And once again they stopped speaking. Still, Lida hardly felt guilty (well, maybe just a little). Everyone’s so holy! The well-fed can’t understand the hungry, after all. Never mind—she’d make it on her own. She cared for Tamara with real dedication. Since her romance with Edward began, she took on every other household task too. After all, a man needed more than just warmth in bed—he needed good meals, shirts washed and ironed, floors mopped. Edward seemed perfectly content, and so was Lida. In fact, she’d almost failed to notice he’d stopped paying her for caring for his wife altogether. But why fuss about money—they were almost husband and wife by now! He gave her money for food and a bit extra, and she kept track of the budget—not noticing it barely covered basics. His salary was sizeable, but never mind—once they were married, it’d all get sorted. Their passion faded over time, and Edward didn’t hurry home these days, but Lida blamed his tiredness from having a sick wife. Why he was tired, she couldn’t say—he barely popped in to see Tamara once a day—but she felt for him. Lida still wept when Tamara died, though it was hardly unexpected. After all, she’d given a year and a half to that woman—it’s not like that time just vanished. Lida organised the funeral—Edward was stricken with grief. He gave her just enough money for it, but Lida made sure everything was decent. No one could criticise her. Even the neighbours, who’d always shot her dirty looks for her affair with Edward—nothing escapes them—even they nodded at the funeral. The mother-in-law was pleased too. Lida never expected what Edward hit her with next. — “As you can imagine, I’ve no further need of your services, so I’m giving you a week to move out,” he told her dryly, ten days after the funeral. — “What do you mean?” Lida thought she’d misheard. “Where am I supposed to go? Why?” — “Oh, please, spare the drama,” he replied coldly. “You’ve got no one left to look after. Where you go’s your problem.” — “Ed, what’s this? Weren’t we getting married?..” — “That was all in your head. I never promised anything.” The next morning after a sleepless night, Lida tried again, but Edward just repeated himself and insisted she leave soon. — “My fiancée wants to renovate before the wedding,” Edward revealed. — “Fiancée? Who?” — “None of your business.” — “Oh, it’s not, is it?! I’ll leave, but you’ll pay me for my work. Listen here! You promised £1,000 a month. I only got it twice. You owe me £16,000.” — “Look at you, quick with numbers!” he mocked. “Don’t get your hopes up…” — “Oh—and there’s extra for being your housekeeper! I’ll let it go for £25,000—then we’ll be done.” — “And if not? Sue me? You’ve not even got a contract.” — “I’ll tell Pamela—you know, your mother-in-law. She bought this flat for you, remember? After my story, you’ll be out on your ear. You know her better than I do.” Edward’s face changed, but he quickly controlled himself. — “Who’ll believe you? Don’t try and scare me. In fact, I want you out now.” — “You’ve got three days, darling. No money—there’ll be fireworks.” Lida packed up and went to a hostel. She’d managed to squirrel away a bit from grocery money. On the fourth day, she still hadn’t heard from him, so she turned up at Edward’s flat. Luckily, Pamela was there too. Lida could tell from Edward’s face he’d never pay up, so she immediately spilled everything to his mother-in-law. — “She’s making things up! Rambling! Don’t listen to her!” cried the widower. — “I heard things at the funeral—didn’t believe them then,” Pamela said coldly. “Now it’s all clear. And you, son-in-law, don’t forget—the deed’s in my name.” Edward froze. — “I don’t want to see you here in a week. No, make that three days.” Pamela hesitated by the door, then turned to Lida. — “And you, dear, what are you waiting for? A medal? Leave!” Lida bolted from the flat. No chance of seeing any money now. She’d have to return to the market—there’s always work there… **The Carer for the Wife: When Lida Leaves Her Village for a Second Chance, Only to Find Herself Out on the Street After Her Employer’s Wife Dies**

A Carer for the Wife

“What do you mean?” Linda felt like shed misheard. “You want me to leave? Why? For what reason?”

“Oh, lets not make a big scene about it,” Edward replied with a grimace. “Whats so hard to understand? You dont have anyone to look after now. What you do next is none of my concern.”

“Edward, whats going on? Werent we planning to get married?”

“That was your idea, not mine. I never agreed to anything like that.”

At thirty-two, Linda had decided it was time to completely change her life and move away from her little village.

What was left for her there? Listen to her mothers endless nagging?

Her mother still hadnt let go of Lindas divorce, blaming her constantly for letting her husband slip away.

Not that her ex, Dave, was worth the troublehe was a drunk and a womaniser. She sometimes wondered how she ever ended up marrying him eight years ago.

Linda hadnt been upset about the divorce; in fact, she could finally breathe a little easier.

But it was a constant source of arguments with her mum. They bickered about money too, which was always in short supply.

So, Linda decided shed move to Manchester and make something of herself.

Her old schoolmate, Susan, had been married to a widower for five years now.

So what if he was sixteen years older and no Adonis? He owned a flat and had money in the bank.

Linda reckoned she was every bit as good as Susan.

“Well, thank goodness! Finally come to your senses!” Susan cheered her on. “Pack your bags. You can stay with us to start with, and well sort a job out for you.”

“Wont your husband mind?” Linda asked, uncertain.

“Nonsense! He does whatever I ask. Dont worry, well get by!”

Still, Linda didnt overstay her welcome. After crashing with Susan for a couple of weeks while earning her first pay, she managed to rent a room.

Then, just a couple of months later, she lucked out big time.

“Whys a woman like you selling veg at the market?” asked one of her regular customers, Mr. Edward Barnes.

Linda already knew her regulars by name.

“Its cold, its miserable, and its hardly fitting,” he added with a look of pity.

“What else am I to do?” Linda shrugged. “Got to earn a living somehow.”

She added, half-teasing, “Unless youve got a better offer?”

Edward Barnes was hardly her Prince Charming. He was at least twenty years older, a little podgy, with thinning hair and eyes that missed nothing.

He always inspected every carrot and potato and paid his bill to the last penny. But he was well dressed and drove a nice carclearly not some drifter or a drunkard.

True, he did wear a wedding ring, so Linda never considered him as husband material.

“You seem a proper, reliable sort,” Edward went on, now addressing her informally. “Ever looked after someone ill before?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I looked after my old neighbour after her stroke. Her kids lived miles away and didnt have time for their mum. So, they asked me to help out.”

“Brilliant!” said Edward, composure breaking into a look of grave concern. “My missus, Pamela, just had a stroke as well.”

Doctors say the chances are slim. I’ve brought her home, but I havent got time to care for her. Would you help? Ill pay you properly, the way it should be.”

Linda didnt think for long. Better to be in a warm flat, even if it meant emptying chamber pots, than to freeze for ten hours, dealing with picky customers!

And Edward offered her accommodation as wellno rent to worry about.

“Theyve got three spare bedrooms! Practically room for a football match!” she told Susan, delighted. “No kids, either.”

Pamelas motherVivianwas a sight to behold: at sixty-eight, she still fancied herself young and had recently remarried. She was far too busy with her new husband to care for her daughter.

“Is Pamela really in that bad a way?” asked Susan.

“Oh yesshes done for. Just lies there, cant move, can barely make a sound. I doubt shell ever recover.”

“You sound almost pleased about that,” Susan shot her a sharp look.

“Not pleased,” Linda glanced away, “but once Pamelas gone, Edward will be free…”

“Linda, are you serious? Wishing death on someone for a flat?”

“Im not wishing for anything. I just wont lose my chance! Easy for you to sayyoure all settled and secure.”

That spat ended their chat for months. Only half a year later did Linda admit to Susan that she and Edward had started an affair.

They couldnt live without each other now, though Edward would never leave his wifenot the sort of man, reallyso things just carried on behind closed doors.

“So you two are playing house while his wifes at deaths door next door?” Susan glared. “Do you even realise how foul that is? Are you sure you even know hes rich?”

“Youve never got a kind word for me!” Linda snapped.

Soon, they stopped speaking once more. Still, Linda had no sense of guilt (well, maybe just a smidge).

Honestly, who are any of them to judge her? The well-fed dont understand the hungry, as they say. No matterLinda would manage without her friend.

She continued caring for Pamela with all due diligence. Now, with her romance with Edward in full swing, Linda also took on all the housework.

After all, a man needs more than just satisfaction in bedhe needs good food, his shirts washed and ironed, the flat sparkling clean.

Linda felt certain Edward was contentand she was enjoying herself as well.

She hardly noticed when Edward quietly stopped paying her for Pamelas care. But what money did she need, when she was practically his wife already?

He gave her cash for the groceries and other bits, and she managed the budget herself, not realising how tight the purse strings had become.

And for a factory manager, he earned a very decent salary. Never mind, she thoughtonce theyre married, itd all make sense.

Their passion dulled a bit, and Edward wasn’t so eager to come home these days, but Linda chalked it up to his exhaustion from having a sick wife.

Why he was so tired when he hardly visited his ill wife more than once a day, she couldnt quite say, but she pitied him all the same.

It wasnt unexpected, but Linda still wept the day Pamela died.

Shed devoted a year and a half to that poor woman, and that time couldnt be recovered. Linda even handled the funeral arrangementsEdward was supposedly too distraught.

He only gave her just enough money, but Linda made sure it was done with dignity. No one could fault her for anything.

Even the gossipy neighbours, whod eyed her askance over her affair with Edwardtheres no hiding from them!gave her approving nods at the funeral. Even her mother-in-law, Vivian, was satisfied.

Linda certainly didnt expect what Edward said after.

“As you can see, theres no more need for your services. Im giving you a week to move out,” he announced, ten days after the funeral.

“What do you mean?” Linda asked again, disbelieving. “You mean I have to move? Why? For what?”

“Oh, dont start the dramatics,” Edward winced. “Theres nothing to explain. Youve no one left to look after. What you do now isnt my problem.”

“Edward, whats this? I thought we were going to get married!”

“You made that up yourself. I never said any such thing.”

Next morning, after a sleepless night, Linda tried speaking to Edward again, but he repeated, word for word, what hed said before and insisted she move quickly.

“My fiancée wants to renovate before the wedding,” Edward added curtly.

“Fiancée? Who is she?”

“Not your business.”

“Oh, not my business? Fine, Ill go, but you owe me my wages. Dont give me that look!”

You promised forty thousand a month. I only got paid twice. That means you owe me six hundred and forty thousand.

“My, youre quick with numbers!” Edward snorted. “Dont get your hopes up”

“Oh! And youll owe me more for cleaning and cooking! I wont even calculate it to the last pennylets say one million and well part ways.”

“And otherwise? Youll take me to court? There was no contract.”

“Ill tell Vivian,” Linda said quietly. “Shes the one who bought you this flat.”

Believe me, after I tell her, youll find yourself out of a job as well. You know your mother-in-law better than me.”

Edwards face darkened. But he quickly composed himself.

“Who would believe you? Idle threats. You know what, I dont want to see youjust leave right now.”

“Youve got three days, darling. No million, and therell be a scandal,” Linda said, gathering her things and heading for a hostel. Shed managed to save a little from the housekeeping money.

On the fourth day, not having heard a word from him, Linda went to the flat. As luck would have it, Vivian was there.

By the look on Edwards face, Linda understood straight away that he wasnt paying her a penny, and so, there and then, she told everything to his mother-in-law.

“Shes lying! Shes making things up! Dont believe her!” the widower protested.

“I heard plenty of rumours at the funeral, but didnt believe themuntil now,” Vivian fixed him with a cold stare. “I think things are quite clear now. And I hope you remember this flat is in my name?”

Edward froze.

“So, I dont want to see you here by next week. Nothree days.”

Vivian turned to leave, then paused beside Linda.

“And you, standing herewhat for? Expecting a medal? Out you go!”

Linda flew out of the flat, stung. She knew shed not get a penny now. Shed have to go back to the marketthere was always work to be had there.