tea?’
‘Nothing. I’m not cooking in this mess.’
‘Huh?’ He looked around as if searching for something. ‘You usually go shopping on your afternoon off. We’ve not got much food left.’
‘You didn’t feel like helping round the house yesterday. Today I don’t feel like shopping.’ She went across, flipped open the dishwasher door and stood very still for a moment to hold in the anger. ‘This hasn’t been emptied yet. We’ll be running out of clean crockery soon.’
‘But what about tea? I’m famished.’
‘What about it? I can’t cook in a pigsty.’ She left him standing with that sulky expression on his face that said he knew he was in the wrong but wasn’t going to back down. But at least he hadn’t threatened her today. Perhaps he realised he’d stepped over the line there.
In the bedroom she found Sam lying on the bed.
He sat up, looking dazed. ‘Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. Did you work extra hours?’
‘No. I just didn’t want to come home. Comfy, are you?’
‘I had a headache.’
‘And did you have a headache last night too?’
‘Come again?’
‘No one cleared up the kitchen. And
you
didn’t support me with the boys. William’s still refusing to lift a finger.’
‘Give it a break!’
‘I am. A complete break. I am
not
doing all the clearing up after you three.’
‘You always have done before.’
‘More fool me. And actually, you used to help around the house quite a lot. You’ve hardly lifted a finger lately.’
‘Since I got this job, I’m too tired with all the commuting.’
She glared at him. ‘Has it escaped your notice that I work full-time too?’
‘You’ve got an easy job compared to mine.’
‘So I suddenly became the housemaid as well? No, thank you. Didn’t apply for the job and I’m not being conscripted.’ She began to tidy one of her drawers, not sure what to do next.
‘Look, we’ll get a takeaway tonight.’
‘Not till that kitchen’s cleared up, we won’t. If you and the boys don’t do that, I’m going out for a meal somewhere clean.’
He got up off the bed, frowning at her. ‘Where? Maybe we could all go.’
‘You lot have got clearing up to do at home.’
‘Well, if you’re going out, Paul needs picking up from rehearsal.’
‘Glad you remembered. Don’t forget to do it.’ She ran down the stairs, expecting Sam to call after her, say he’d organise the clear-up, but he didn’t. She drove off slowly, tears blurring her eyes and making the street look surreal.She didn’t know what to do, where to go, just that she couldn’t bear to stay in. Surely, surely, they’d clear up now?
The only thing she was certain about was that she wasn’t going to touch the mess. She’d reached her sticking point. If she didn’t stand firm, she’d lose all self-respect.
She was not only tired of what was happening at home, she was bone tired, period, and desperately needed a break.
She wandered round the shopping centre buying a snack for herself from a café, a piece of rather stale gâteau. Feeling defiant, she bought a glass of wine too. Why not? One small glass wouldn’t put her over the limit.
Not until it was nearly time for the shopping centre to close did she go home.
Sam looked at her reproachfully as she announced that she’d be sleeping in the spare bedroom again.
‘That isn’t necessary.’
‘I think it is necessary until we sort this out. I’m angry at all of you. And I’m not giving in.’
The boys rolled their eyes at one another but said nothing. They didn’t go into the kitchen, though, just up to bed.
Sam went straight to bed as well.
She lay on the hard bed in the spare bedroom and cried into the pillow.
The kitchen stayed dirty the following morning. Sam must have bought some bread and milk the night before when he picked Paul up from rehearsal, but at the rate her sons ate, they’d soon run out of butter and jam.
William gave her a sneering smile before he left, gestured to