When Laurie’s redundancy was confirmed and he left work in the middle of September, he did so with a substantial payout which meant there was no need for him to rush into finding a new job. Because he’d always worked crazy hours, he hadn’t had the time for any hobbies or interests so there was nothing to fill his free time and, within days of leaving, I caught him scrolling through the job sites looking harassed.
‘There’s nothing at the same level,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to take a demotion.’
‘You don’t have to. You can bide your time, you know. Why don’t you leave the job sites alone for now and take some proper time out to think about what you want to do next? Could be time for a change of industry or even a career change. There’s no rush to decide.’
Bytime out, I’d meant pottering around at home but, one Friday evening in early October – three weeks after his final day – I arrived home from work to find him sitting in darkness in the lounge.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, flicking on a side lamp.
‘Just thinking. You’re right about taking some time out to think about what I want to do next but I can’t do it here – too many distractions. I’ve booked a flight to Finland.’
I laughed, assuming he was joking, but my stomach sank as I clocked his dark expression. ‘You’re serious?’
‘I leave tomorrow.’
‘How long for?’
‘I haven’t booked the return flight but I’m thinking maybe a month.’
‘A month? That’s ages.’
‘I’ve got a lot to think about.’
I was used to Laurie being away with work – often for several months at a time – and I’d supported him without complaint, but this was different. If he genuinely believed a change of scenery would help him get his head together, why not book a cottage in the UK countryside?
‘Why Finland?’ I asked.
‘Because I like it there.’
There was something about his choice of words and the way he said them that made me nervous. I felt certain he really meantbecause I don’t like it here. Was I one of the distractions?
While Laurie was away, I sent him a few long, chatty emails – something I’d always done when he was working abroad – but he only sent the briefest of replies and I was worried. The weeks apart gave me plenty of thinking time too and it became obvious to me that there wasn’t just a physical distance between us; there was an emotional one too and there had been for a long time. We’d need to work on that.
Five weeks later, Laurie flew back from Finland. From the lounge window, I watched him pull onto the drive in his car but he didn’t show any signs of getting out. When he finally approached the house, he was empty-handed. Leaving his luggage in the car was not a good sign. He’d obviously madesome big decisions – he wouldn’t have returned otherwise – and I had this sinking feeling I wasn’t going to like them. I pasted a smile on my face as his key turned in the lock.
‘Welcome home!’ I declared a little too brightly as I stepped into the hall.
He nodded but he didn’t smile. ‘Is Maddie here?’
‘She’s at Alfie’s.’
‘Good. We need to talk.’
My stomach plummeted to the floor. Nothing positive ever came from a conversation preceded by those four words.
I returned to the lounge and sat down in an armchair. It was a cold, damp November evening so I’d lit the log burner and, a little earlier, the room had felt so warm and inviting. Watching Laurie tugging at the sleeves of his sweater, evidently nervous about what he was about to say, I felt chilled to the bone.
Laurie stood in front of the shelved alcove to the right of the log burner looking at the framed photos which depicted key moments in our twenty-seven years together from our university days to our wedding to family holidays.
‘You saidwe need to talk,’ I prompted when I couldn’t bear the suspense any longer.
Laurie turned to face me. ‘I had an interview while I was away and they offered me the job.’
Under normal circumstances, I’d have rushed at him with a congratulatory hug, but nothing about this wasnormal. I remained quiet, certain there was more to come.
‘It’s in Finland so, erm, I’m moving there at the start of December.’
A chill rippled down my spine. If my husband had accepted a job overseas without even discussing it with me, it meant my opinion didn’t matter and there was only one scenario I could think of in which that would be the case.
