Dear Diary,
Tonight I sit at the kitchen table of our flat in Manchester, the kettle whistling, and try to make sense of the chaos that arrived with my last haul. Im a longhaul driver, making a decent living about £3,500 a month after tax and for years Gwen and I have lived comfortably. Shes 34, pretty as a summer rose, while Im a bit older, but we never had any reason to suspect trouble.
On a rainy Tuesday, I pulled into a roadside diner near the M6 and met a woman who claimed to be a fellow hauler. She was rough around the edges, her hair unkempt, a smudge of makeup that had long since faded. I didnt think much of it and invited her to join us for a coffee. By the time I got home, Id promised her a place to stay, saying, Shell be staying with us now. I told Gwen the same, hoping shed understand. I never imagined how wrong that would turn out.
When I walked through the front door, Gwen stared at Molly, the newcomer, with a mix of shock and disbelief. Molly marched straight into the bathroom, slipped on a towel, and emerged in a housecoat that looked stolen from Gwens own wardrobe, a fluffy bathrobe draped over her head. She shouted from the kitchen, Youre not going to stand there like a statue! Im starving, and youll be home soon enough.
Gwen wanted to scream, to fling Molly out the door, but she kept quiet. The flat, after all, is technically Jamess property bought before we were married and the law says I can decide who lives here. Still, nothing had ever hinted at trouble. Gwen had always been a bit highstrung, a touch capricious, and our friends liked to joke that I took the road so I wouldnt have to see her too often. They said I loved her fiercely, and I believed them.
Now, the atmosphere feels different. I asked Gwen what she thought Id bring back this time. She guessed something ordinary, perhaps a souvenir or a new set of tools. Instead, the reality smashed every expectation: a stranger, a woman named Molly, would be sharing our home.
Gwen could barely comprehend it. At 34 shes still young and gorgeous, while Molly, with her tired eyes and sullen demeanor, seemed at least fifty. Could someone like her tempt my attractive wife? Surely not. Yet, as I watched Gwens confidence wobble, I realized I had to confront the situation.
Later that evening, Molly burst out of the kitchen, Are you going to stand there all night? Im famished! I was in the middle of boiling dumplings for dinner. She stared at the plate I set before her, then snapped, What, you feed the man with readymade meals? And you expect me to eat that?
I answered with a forced smile, Yes and watched as Molly flung the dumplings out the window. The cat will have them, she muttered, Now make me a proper soup or fry some chips, love. She then retreated to the television.
When Peter I mean, my brother Pete arrived home later, Gwen dragged him into the kitchen and vented, Get her out! Why did you bring her back? She threw away the food! Before she could finish, Molly reappeared, looking down on us like a judge.
Pete, why are you tolerating her? Molly said sharply. Youre a respectable bloke with a decent flat and a stable income, yet you cant even cook a proper meal. Shes nothing but a spoiled brat.
I felt a surge of anger. I live here, and Im the one who runs this household! I snapped. Molly simply replied, Fine, then, and turned her back.
The next day Molly went grocery shopping with Pete. She cooked a stew that was actually decent, though Gwen admitted she had no appetite that day. By the following evening, shed managed a proper borscht and a hearty fish pie. I watched as Gwen, who never liked cooking, started scrolling through recipes online, trying to imitate the dishes. At first she failed miserably, but eventually she found her stride. She stopped picking fights over petty things and began to enjoy the kitchen.
The shift terrified her. She worried Molly would stay and shed be left alone. She confided nothing to her mother, who she usually called at the slightest inconvenience, but she did tell her best friend, Kate.
Get rid of her, you impostor! Kate urged. I cant imagine if my Sam brought someone like that home. Gwen, on the verge of tears, replied, You dont know how hard it is. The flat is ours, Sam earns nothing, Im the one holding everything together. Everything is Petes! Kates anger boiled over, and she stormed off.
Life, however, kept moving. Pete still adored me, and Gwen kept trying to talk to me about why Id invited Molly. I remained silent. Molly found work in a local shop, and Gwen suddenly thought of a way to make the impostors stay less burdensome: get pregnant. Shed never wanted children before, telling both Pete and me that motherhood wasnt for her she feared losing her figure and didnt feel maternal affection.
But now she saw it as a solution. She told Pete, Im going to have a baby. He was overjoyed. Molly, with a sigh, said, Its about time. Raise the child well, or else youll end up being tossed out like I was.
Gwen asked, What do you mean, tossed out? Mollys eyes filled with tears as she recounted how shed once cared for her husbands sons as if they were her own, only to be blamed when one of them died. They shut the door on me, she whispered, said I shouldnt return.
For the first time, Gwen felt a pang of sympathy for her. What happened after? she asked.
Molly answered, I turned to drinking. I didnt want to live. Then a blokeyour husbandsaw me on the road. He stopped, talked me into staying, and I realised there are decent people out there. Youre lucky, Gwen, to have a good man. By the end of that night, the three of us ate dinner together, and Gwen no longer wanted to chase Molly out.
The following week Petes uncle visited from a village in Yorkshire. Everyones eyes drifted toward Molly, impressed by her newfound confidence. After a weeks stay, Molly hinted she might move with the uncle, saying, At our age, we shouldnt waste time. Thanks for having me. Gwen even began to miss her presence.
Months later, Gwen gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She asked Molly to be the godmother, and they grew close, sharing tea and stories. Over the summer, Gwen spent weekends at Petes countryside cottage, letting the fresh air do the child good. Pete constantly marvels at how much Ive changed, how Gwen, once the volatile wife, now looks like a proper English ladycooking, caring, and content.
It all started with a decision that seemed harmless. I learned that a rash promise can upend a life, but also that unexpected guests can bring growth if you let them. Ill remember this lesson whenever Im tempted to make promises without thinking them through.
James.
