Yulia’s Perfect Revenge

Julias Revenge

Back in those days, before smartphones and messenger channels, I remember that autumn day the rain was drizzling, persistent yet hesitant, as if the sky couldnt decide if it should really open up or not. I, Julia, gazed through the spotted glass of the minibus carrying me home. Although, truth be told, Id long considered home to be my tidy studio flat perched high in a London tower block, surrounded by the bustling citys clamour. The old family house in the country well, that was less home now. Parents, familiar hedges, childhood memories; Id left all that behind when Id gone off to university, grown used to fast trains, city lights, the hum of constant activity far removed from the rural peace I once knew.

By the age of twenty-seven, I was quietly proud of what Id achieved. First, graduating from medical school, then securing a sought-after position at a prestigious beauty clinic in the city. I attended courses and workshops, working late, fine-tuning my professional skills. I wouldnt have travelled back if not for the subtle, disconcerting changes Id noticed in my parents voices during our calls. If I rang my mother, my father was nowhere about. If I tried my father, Mother was always out or busy with something else.

Mum, is everything alright? Id ask.

To which shed respond, Oh, fine, love. Alls well with us.

From the regional airport, it took me less than two hours by minibus to get to my childhood town distances I now took for granted. As the minibus pulled into the depot, I recognised everything: the old grocers shop across the road, albeit with a new sign; the chestnut trees, taller than I remembered. The rain had let up, and a pale sunlight peeked through the clouds. Id told Mum I was coming, but with no precise arrival time.

A bored taxi driver, lounging outside the station, trudged up to me. Where to, miss? he asked, lazily wheeling my suitcase over the cracked tarmac.

52 Ascension Lane, I replied.

The old family house welcomed me as ever with its blue-shuttered windows; the bird cherry was still growing by the path, and the silver birches my father had planted when Id finished school reached for the sky beside the gate.

Julia! Mum Olwen ran from the window, tearful and beaming all at once. Darling, youre home at last!

Mum, its alright, Ive missed you too but theres no need for tears.

Oh, let me be. Im just so happy to see you! It’s been three years, my dear.

I left my suitcase near the door, peeled off my coat and boots, and stretched out on the old living room sofa my legs grateful for the rest. Mum sat beside me, holding me in a gentle embrace; we simply sat there, smiling at each other, saying nothing for a moment.

Finally, I asked the question shed been dreading. Mum wheres Dad? Isnt he in?

Lets get you some proper food first, love, she said. We can talk after youve eaten.

I noticed how the table looked different a new embroidered cloth, a dainty china set I didnt recognise. All so familiar, yet it had become strange to me after years in my modern city flat. But the food was as I remembered: her fluffy meatballs, a fresh vegetable salad from the garden, cheese scones and more memories served on plates.

So, Mum, is Dad away on a business trip? Youre being awfully mysterious.

Hes working away at the moment, Olwens tone grew serious, Weve both wanted to talk to you properly but, well, its not something for the phone, at least I found it hard. And youre always busy with work, with courses, with seminars Forgive us, we should have told you sooner, but your father and I weve separated.

Separated?! I set down my now-cold tea and checked the wardrobe in their bedroom all Dads clothes had vanished.

So, where is he? Wheres he living?

Sit down, darling, Mum pleaded. Sometimes, even after many years together, people drift apart. Your father and I William weve made our peace.

But Mum! How could you not tell me? I pouted, feeling once more like a little girl in a polka-dot dress stomping her foot, demanding a shiny new bicycle.

Dad had always indulged me bikes swapped nearly every year, a fancy stereo when I was thirteen (even though wed just bought a new fridge), and when I was a student I never went without, his money almost entirely for me. Mum bore the brunt of the bills, giving me a head start after graduation. But Id learned to be wise, to budget I wasnt utterly spoiled, no. I worked hard, and my efforts in medical school made my parents proud.

So, you split up, and didnt even tell me

Its only just happened, Olwen explained, wringing her hands. Our marriage had been faltering for a while. But none of this changes how much we both love you, youre our dearest. William still cares for you as ever.

Hes moved into Nans old house, then?

Well, yes, it shouldnt stand empty it belonged to his parents.

I need to talk to him. Now.” I stood abruptly, heading for the door.

Hes away on business with Mr. Simmons back tomorrow, love.

Mum, honestly! After all these years, you just split up? Has he found someone else?

She sighed. Yes, hes not alone. Hes still young, you know.

Who is she, then?

You wouldnt know her, shes from the next village over.

So, she’s living in my grandparents house now?

Where else could he take her?

I clutched my head. And you talk as though youd lost a chicken and not your husband!

Dont take it to heart, Julia, Mum said gently, Things were broken for a long while. We separated without bitterness. Why make life difficult at our age?

Mum, youre so spineless! Let me guess shes what, twenty years younger?”

Ten, not twenty.

Doesnt matter. A traitors a traitor.

Listen, darling Hes always loved you, always checked up on you. Forgive me for staying silent; William did want to tell you, but I kept waiting for the right moment.

Well, Im not as soft as you. If someone betrays you, you dont let them walk all over you you stand for whats right. I have no wish to see Dad. I dont speak to traitors.

Olwen gazed at me with sorrow tears threatening again but said nothing. She thought, perhaps, that I would soften after resting from my journey.

I did rest later, changed into my tracksuit, threw on a hooded jacket, and stepped into the fresh, intoxicating countryside air. My mind touched on classmates I hadnt seen in years; I could have chatted with them online, but I never made time for such nonsense in my busy life. City ways had changed me; my values had shifted.

Mum, Im popping down to the river.

Rains coming.

Ill be quick.

Nans house, a little worse for wear but still sturdy, emerged as I rounded the lane. I strolled through the garden gate and climbed to the porch. A woman about forty, perhaps younger was at the stove in the scullery, minding a pot.

So, youre the new mistress of my grandparents house? I appraised her coolly.

You must be Julia, she said, flustered. William showed me your photo. Come in, if you like.

No need. This is my grandparents house, not yours. Ive every right to be here.

The woman withered. Theres no need for nastiness. William was looking forward to seeing you Shall I put the kettle on?

And you are?

Emma, she said, warily, moving aside.

Well, Emma, I suggest you gather your bits and move out. Youve no claim to this house.

William brought me here. I wont leave until he asks, and… Ive done you no harm.

You broke up my parents marriage. If not for you, theyd still be together.

But you dont know the whole story, Julia, it wasnt

At that, a boy of about twelve emerged, staring curiously from the back room.

Tom, go to your room, Emma said.

I wanted to go out, the boy objected.

Alright, off you go.

The lad glanced at me, curiosity vivid in his blue eyes, before slipping out. You wont stay here! I promised Emma and strode out myself, the chill and wet pricking at my cheeks. So this is what Dad had brought into our lives a stranger in Nans house. I burned with the urge to shout at him, call him out as a fraud, tell him how wrong Id been to trust him. Most of all, I wanted Emma gone, though I was powerless to make her leave and that powerlessness stung.

The city had hardened me deadlines, never-ending tasks, late nights and early mornings. Id trained myself to stand firm among colleagues and clients. The countryside now seemed a distant memory, my true life whirring elsewhere, in Londons whirl.

Only now, back at the old house, did I realise what Id missed: these rooms, my parents, their warmth, the comfort of old photographs and shared laughter. Their divorce struck me like a punch to the gut. Despite all the years of being grown and independent, I found myself defenceless. My only weapon felt like revenge so Id come to see the woman whod pushed my mother from Dads life.

Where have you been? Mum called as I returned, noticing my angry face. Not by the river all that time?

I saw her, I admitted, her and her son. Now Dads got a ready-made new family.

Olwen turned pale at that and drew a trembling hand to her throat. Why, Julia? I never asked you to go there.

Mum! Fury flashed in my brown eyes. How can you just accept this? Over twenty-five years even more and you feel nothing? Arent you angry? Dont you want revenge for this injustice?

Whats the point? Mum croaked, her spirit cracking. Ive come to terms. No good ever came of fighting for the sake of it. William lived with me for you, really. Both of us loved you deeply, but one another well, perhaps we never learned how.

You say that just to excuse him.

No, I mean it. I pursued him, you know not so much a whirlwind romance, more dogged perseverance. I wore him down, and in time we built a happy home, especially after you came along. The years brought routine, and sometimes routine is all thats left after children grow up. The day you left for university, you became the glue holding us together.

Mum, why did you never tell me? Ive been grown up for years.

Well, you hardly visited. I didnt want to trouble you. And when a woman moved in, I knew right away. Williams honest, he told me everything. I couldnt stop him leaving, much as it hurt.

Maybe you two couldve talked, gone away together, seen a counsellor.

She chuckled sadly. Counsellors are all the rage in the city, but here, we have each other. Life goes on. Its unpleasant, knowing your husband has someone else but what can I do about it now?

He tried, I suppose, I muttered. I do understand you, sort of. You were passionate once, but now you drift

Because I want to be loved myself! Mum burst out. Im not old! Or do you think I am? Tears came thick, heartfelt and deep. I wrapped my arm around her.

Mum dont! You’re young and beautiful. You mustnt let yourself feel old. Not with me around.

She sniffled and calmed a little. You shouldnt have confronted Emma. Shes not to blame William met her long after our love faded. Shes not local, ran away from a brutal husband brought her boy, who was beaten by his own father.

Still, I pity you more, Mum, than her.

Oh Julia, whats the use in bearing grudges for life? We must learn to forgive, love.

I cant accept this, not right away. Maybe I never will. I dont want to see Dad.

And me? Will you stop seeing me too?

Mum, of course not. Why would I?

Well, I may meet someone else too. And then what?

Do as you please, since you let Dad go so easily.

Perhaps I have, she said softly, voice trembling. Do you remember your old classmate Mary Cartwright?

Of course I remembered Mary. Wed been close in school, promising always to write, though the city life swept me away from old friends.

Mary? Of course! She used to wear braids, then a ponytail later.

Well, Mary lost her mother three years ago. Shes a mother herself now, but still misses her mum. Her father, Andrew, helps constantly

So Mary has a child, is she married?

Yes, she has a family. And her father, Andrew, calls in often to help. Do you judge me?

No, Mum. But you must see I always believed you and Dad would be there together, for me to bring my own family home someday. Now, that pictures smashed, and Im struggling. Yes, I have my own life and understand what resilience means in work but familys different. I have friends in London, even a man, and I thought I understood love. Now, after whats happened, Im full of doubts.

Dont be, love. Youll be fine! Marys away at her aunts just now, or youd have seen her.

With Mary, perhaps. But with Dad, Im not ready. Please, dont ask.

Williams business trip was unexpectedly extended. He phoned, but I refused to answer. Mum took his calls, but my pride wounded as it was wouldnt let me speak to him. Emmas face would swim before my eyes, and anger would rise again.

When Father did return, he drove straight to our old house. At first sight, I saw hed aged; his temples were thinning, eyes red-rimmed. Clearly, he hadnt slept.

Arent we even going to talk? Wont you at least hug your old Dad? he asked.

Why should I? You have a new family now.

Thats Emmas son, nothing to do with me. But youre my daughter, Julia­ you know that. Im sorry we didnt tell you.

Goodbye, Dad. I turned away.

He and Mum exchanged quiet words, and then he left. The next day, I wandered toward the river, needing air, though my mind was still tangled. On the way, I spotted lads cycling too fast one was clearly Emma’s son. Suddenly I heard shouts, panic, a childs cry. Glancing over, I saw one boy sprawled across a stack of boards, his bike twisted. I dashed over.

Emmas boy was injured a nasty cut, a likely twisted ankle. I wrapped him in my jacket and did what I could. Itll be alright, I soothed, dialling Dad for help. All my anger had vanished nothing mattered but helping.

Dad and Emma soon arrived, frantic, and we rushed to the small country hospital. She was distraught, nearly hysterical, clinging to Tom.

In the waiting corridor, I briefed the doctor about Toms injuries. Dad gave me a grateful look, and I slipped outside, feeling weary yet oddly resolved.

The next morning, Mum and I waited at the station for my coach back to London. The sky was heavy with clouds, ready to weep. Not the cheerful farewell Id pictured.

A battered car swung into the car park Mary, my old classmate, stepped out, a little plumper, still warm and familiar, her little boy in tow. Marys father, Andrew, was with her.

Julia! Youve changed, but Id know you anywhere, Mary laughed, pulling me into a hug. Shame its only a brief visit.

Im so glad I saw you, I returned warmly.

Before wed finished chatting, Dad and Emma appeared, supporting Tom.

Auntie Julia, look! piped Tom. I can almost stand on my own.

Im sure you can, Tom. You were so brave, I said, surprised by my own tenderness. And you dont need to call me Auntie.

Emmas eyes were soft with apology. I was beside myself yesterday. Please, forgive me. My son means everything to me, as you do to William. You will always be his beloved daughter.

I looked around at the people gathered to see me off. Family or not, these faces belonged to my world. As the minibus drew up, silent tears slipped down Mums face.

Thats enough, Olwen, Dad called. Julia will be back. Wont you, love? He met my eyes the same shade as his. I felt something shift inside me, my heart stretching toward him, just as I did as a child. He scooped me up, hugging me as if I was small again. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck.

Ill come back. I promise, I said, hugging everyone Dad, Mum, Mary. The coach door closed, and I caught their faces through the window as we pulled away, waving. I could practically hear their voices: Come back soon!

And I whispered, I will. I must. It would be so unfair if I didnt come back. As the coach trundled down the cratered road, sunlight finally broke through the clouds, splashing warmth over those I loved, and over me. Even after all that had happened, I knew wherever I made my home, these people were a part of me.