Eleanor never imagined she would ask James to move in with her. Dating is one thing; sharing a home is quite another. On Saturday she waits for Jamess usual walk. She opens the front door, breathes in, and finds him standing there with two large suitcases.
Eleanor sits in an armchair, scrolling through photos on her phone. Theres a picture of them feeding ducks in HydePark, another of them strolling along the Thames, and a snapshot from their mushroompicking hike in the Cotswolds. Six months of knowing each other have flown by unnoticed.
They met on a dating site. She is sixtyone, he is sixtythree. Both are divorced, their children are grown and live independently.
James catches Eleanors eye instantlywellread, witty, and cultured. He isnt looking for a mother for his children or a housekeeper. He simply wants conversation with an interesting person.
They meet two or three times a week: sometimes at the theatre, sometimes at an art gallery, over coffee, wandering the city, or driving out to a friends cottage in the countryside. Eleanor enjoys the companionship without any obligations, yet feels a genuine closeness.
Eleanor, tell me how youre living, James asks after one of their early meetings.
Its quiet, peaceful. Ive been on my own for five years, so Im used to it, she replies.
Dont you get bored?
Sometimes. But I have friends, my daughters visit, and now youre in the picture.
Thats nice to hear.
After his divorce, James rents a onebedroom flat in an aging block in Liverpool. He complains that the landlady is capricious, never does repairs, and keeps raising the rent.
But what can I do? he says. I have no property of my own. Everything went to my exwife after the split. Her parents bought the flat, and the renovations I paid for with my own money are now her loss.
Did you ever think about buying something for yourself?
And where would I find that much money for a house?
Eleanor understands. She owns a threebedroom flat in a good neighbourhood of Birminghamher lifetime earnings. Her daughters live elsewhere, so theres plenty of space.
Still, the thought of asking James to move in never crosses her mind. Dating is one thing; living together is another.
On Saturday, as Eleanor waits for their walk, she opens the door and sees James with the suitcases.
James, whats happened? she asks.
Eleanor, can I come in? Ill explain.
They step into the hallway. James drops the suitcases by the entrance and sits on the couch.
The landlady decided to sell the flat, he says. She gave me a week to leave.
What now?
I have nowhere to go. Its not easy to find a new place on short notice, and Im short on cash.
Eleanor begins to see where this is heading.
James, Ive been thinkingweve been together for half a year, we know each other well. What if we tried living together?
Together? she repeats, surprised.
Yes. Your threebedroom flat has plenty of room. Im not a freeloaderI still work, and Ill chip in for food and other bills.
But we never talked about this before.
Why discuss it beforehand? Life has already hinted at it.
Eleanor feels a wave of uncertainty. She isnt ready for such a shift.
James, I need some time to think.
Whats there to think about? We love each other.
Love and cohabitation are different things.
Why are they different? At our age, its time to decide.
Decide what?
Decide about the relationship. If were dating, shouldnt we be together?
She looks at the two suitcases in the hallway. It seems James has already decided for her, bringing his belongings and presenting a fait accompli.
What if Im against it?
Against what? Against happiness?
Against someone arriving with their stuff without even asking permission.
Eleanor, dont be angry. Im not doing this out of spite. The circumstances just fell that way.
The circumstances arent happeningtheyre being made by people.
What do you mean?
That you should have talked to me first, then brought the suitcases.
James falls silent, considering her words.
Alright. Lets talk now. I propose we live together.
I refuse.
Why?
Because I like being on my own. I enjoy our meetings, but I dont want to share a home.
But why? We get along well.
Were compatible for dates, walks, shared hobbies. Not for sharing everyday life.
Whats the difference?
Everyday life means routines, habits, compromises.
So what? We could adapt to each other.
Thats the pointI dont want to adapt. Im fine as things are.
James looks dejected.
What if I suggest we get married officially?
For what?
For everything to be proper, by the book.
James, marriage wont change anything. I still dont want to live together.
Then whats the point of our relationship?
The same as before. We meet, talk, spend time together.
And then?
We keep meeting.
But thats not serious!
Why isnt it? This arrangement works for me.
It doesnt for me. I want stability.
What kind of stability do you need? Eleanor asks, sitting opposite him.
Ordinary, familytype stabilityliving with a partner, having breakfast together, making plans.
I dont want to have breakfast with anyone every day. I dont want to fit my schedule around someone elses.
But youre single!
Im not lonely. I have my daughters, my friends, you. Being alone and living independently are different.
I dont see the difference.
The difference is that right now I choose when and with whom I socialize. If we lived together, my choice would disappear.
Eleanor, at sixty you should think about who will be with you in old age.
Im thinking. It doesnt have to be a husband.
Then who?
My daughters, a carer, social servicesthere are options.
Thats not what I had in mind!
It may not be what you expect, but its fine for me.
James stands and walks around the room.
So youre saying I should keep renting my flat and meet you only on weekends?
Im saying live the way that suits you. Meet when we both feel like it.
What if I cant afford another flat?
Thats your problem, not mine.
Thats harsh, Eleanor.
Its honest. Im not obligated to solve your housing issues.
But were together!
We are. And that doesnt make me responsible for your life.
James sits back down, thoughtful.
If I find a place, will we still talk?
Yes, if we both want to.
And until I find one, can I stay with you for a while?
No.
Not at all?
Not at all.
James realises Eleanor is serious. He grabs his suitcases and heads for the door.
So Ill have to look for both a home and new relationships.
Maybe.
Eleanor, will you regret this?
No.
James leaves and never calls again. Eleanor returns to her quiet routine without a partner. At sixty, she values peace above romance and cherishes her freedom more than any companionship.
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