Ill do everything for you.
Elspeth wasnt about to put up with it any longer. Shed never understood why Mark had started treating her the way he didhad he simply fallen out of love? That night he came home late, collapsed on the sofa, and fell asleep in the living room.
The next morning, while he was heading for breakfast, Elspeth took a seat opposite him.
Mark, can you tell me whats going on? she asked.
Whats wrong with you? he replied, sipping his coffee and trying not to look at her.
Ever since the boys were born youve changed a great deal, she said.
I didnt notice, he muttered.
Weve been living like neighbours for two years now. Do you even see it? she pressed.
Listen, what do you want? The house is always littered with toys, it smells of baby porridge, the children are screaming Do you really think anyone enjoys that? he snapped.
But Mark, theyre your kids! she snapped back, pacing the kitchen.
Every sensible wife has one normal child, quiet enough to play in a corner without disturbing anyone. And youve got two! My mother warned me, but I didnt listenpeople like you only seem to multiply! he barked.
People like me? Elspeth asked, stunned. What does that even mean?
Folks without a purpose in life, he retorted.
You made me quit university because you wanted me to devote myself entirely to the family! she shouted, then fell silent. After a moment she added, I think we should get a divorce.
Mark thought it over and said, Fine by me. Just dont bother with maintenance paymentsI’ll give you the money myself.
He turned and left the kitchen. She wanted to cry, but the twins cries from the nursery stopped her. The little ones had woken and were demanding attention.
A week later she packed her things, took the twins, and left. She moved into a spacious room in a council flat that her late grandmother had left her. New neighbours were moving in, so Elspeth decided to introduce herself.
On one side lived a dour, middleaged man; on the other, a lively lady in her sixties. First she knocked on the mans door.
Good morning, Im your new neighbour. I brought a cakewould you like to come over for tea? she said, smiling brightly.
He gave her a cold glance, grunted, I dont do sweets, and shut the door in her face.
Shrugging, Elspeth went next to Mrs. Eleanor Hughes, the lady in her sixties. Eleanor agreed to join her for tea, but only if she could make a short speech.
So, I like to rest in the afternoon because I watch dramas in the evening, and I hope your little whippersnappers wont disturb me with their shouting. Please keep them from running down the hallway, and dont let them touch or break anything! she announced.
Elspeth listened, feeling the future here would be anything but sweet.
She placed the twins in a local nursery and got a job as a caretaker there. It was convenientshe could look after them until Andrew and Luke were due home. The pay was meagre, but Mark had promised to help.
During the first three months of the separation Mark actually sent a bit of cash now and then. After that, the money stopped. Elspeth fell behind on her council tax after two months.
Her relationship with Eleanor grew strained daily. One evening, while Elspeth was feeding the boys in the kitchen, a neighbour in a satin dressing gown popped in.
Sweetheart, have you sorted your finances yet? Id hate for you to lose electricity or gas, she said.
Elspeth sighed, Not yet. Im going to see my ex tomorrow; he seems to have forgotten the kids completely.
Eleanor chided, Youre feeding them pasta you know youre a bad mother, dont you?
I’m a good mother! And youd do well to mind your own business before you get a slap on the wrist! Elspeth retorted.
Eleanors shriek filled the flat. From his flat across the hall, John, another neighbour, emerged, listening to Eleanors tirade. After a while he stormed back, threw a few notes onto the table and said, Shut up. Heres some money for the council tax.
The woman fell silent, but as John slipped away, he hissed, Youll regret this!
Elspeth brushed it off, but later it proved costly. The next day she went to Mark. He listened and said, Im in a tough spot, I cant pay you anything.
Mark, are you joking? I need to feed the children, she pleaded.
Then feed them, Im not stopping you, he replied.
Im filing for maintenance, she warned.
Go ahead. My salary is so low youll be crying for pennies. And stop bothering me! he snapped.
Elspeth trudged home, tears streaming. Her payday was a week away and she was nearly broke. A surprise awaited her at the doora local council officer. Eleanor had lodged a complaint, accusing Elspeth of threatening her life, leaving the twins hungry and unattended.
The officer spent an hour discussing the matter, then said, I have to refer this to child services.
Report what? I havent done anything wrong, Elspeth protested.
Its procedure. We have a signal, we must act on it, he replied.
That evening Eleanor returned, warning, If your children bother me again, Ill go straight to child services!
What are you doing? Theyre just children! They cant sit still all day! Elspeth shouted.
Sweetheart, if you fed them properly theyd be asleep, not running around! Eleanor snapped.
Elspeth retreated to the kitchen, the twins looking frightened. Eat, my darlings, she coaxed. Aunties just joking; shes actually kind.
She turned to wipe her eyes, not noticing John slip in with a massive grocery bag. He opened the fridge, stocked it with food, and left without a word.
Later, after she received her wages, she knocked on Johns door. He opened, his usual grim face.
John, I owe you for the groceries. Heres £2,000. Ill bring more laterjust tell me how much, she said.
Dont bother, he muttered, closing the door.
Before she could react, Eleanors shrieks rang out from the kitchen. She rushed in to find the twins standing while Eleanor pointed at a puddle of tea on the table, shouting, Vagrants! Street children! What will become of you with such upbringing?
Elspeth sent the boys to their room, mopped the floor, and returned to her thoughts. Dont worry, well manage. Ill think of something and well get out of here, she whispered, as the twins clung to her from both sides.
The next evening, a knock sounded at the door. John answered and let in two unfamiliar women, a council officer, and a man.
Are you Mrs. Elspeth Martin? the officer asked.
Yes, she replied.
Were from child services, the woman said.
What for? Elspeth demanded.
May we come in? the officer replied.
They swept through the flat, opened the fridge, lifted the blanket from the bed, and said, Gather the children.
What? Youre insane! I wont give my kids to anyone! she shouted.
Andrew and Luke lunged at her, crying, not understanding what was happening. The officer signalled to John, who grabbed the twins and led them out the stairs. Their screams echoed as the officer held Elspeth until the noise faded and a police van pulled up. He released his grip and she collapsed, wailing like a wounded animal. Within minutes the flat was empty except for her.
She rose, surveyed the room, and spotted a large old axe leaning against the wallleft over from when coal heating was still used. She grabbed it, feeling its weight, a grim smile curling on her lips. She headed for Eleanors door.
When the door was forced open, Eleanor tried to hide under the bed. John seized Elspeth, snatched the axe from her hand and shouted, You fool! What are you doing? Who are you hurting?
It doesnt matter to me any more, Elspeth muttered.
John dragged her to his flat, laid her on a sofa and gave her a tablet. She swallowed it, knowing that if he turned away shed make a run for itstraight to the bridge. But the pill made her drowsy; she fell asleep, and John didnt bother to wake her. He left for Eleanors flat, where she sat, dishevelled, sipping valerian.
Satisfied? he asked.
Oh, John I never imagined it would end like this, she sighed.
End? Tomorrow Ill collect all the letters. Pray everything works out, otherwise I wont be able to keep an eye on you. Then youre done, he replied, shaking his head.
For a month Elspeth gathered medical reports, character references, and did alcohol tests, feeling hopeless. John, ever the grim neighbour, never left her alone and kept pushing her forward. When it seemed the twins might be taken back, something clicked in her.
John this is all because of you she said.
He finally smiled, a sad, tired smile. I had children once too. I couldnt help them; theyve been gone for five years. I can help you now
The night before the tribunal, Elspeth slept on Johns couch, unable to rest. John, also sleepless, asked, John cant sleep? Tell me about your children.
He spoke in a flat, monotone voice. I had a wife and two boys. I took them for granted, drank, fought, and one day my wife left with the kids. I spent a month wallowing, then realised I needed them. I went back, but the house burned down that night, the wiring shortcircuited. I ended up in prison for three years, sold my flat to pay the damages, returned here, and got a job at the factory again.
Elspeth sat down, took his hand, but he pulled away. Sleep. Tomorrow the tribunal will want you sharp as a tack.
The council officer returned with paperwork. Mrs. Martin, make sure you keep your life in order so this never happens again.
Elspeth stared at the documents, the woman smiling. What, youre leaving? Take your kids
Her legs gave way. John steadied her as they waited in a holding room.
Mom! Mum! the twins shouted, clinging to her. Even John brushed a speck of dust from his eyes.
Enough crying, lets get home, he said gently.
Life slowly settled. Eleanor never left her flat again. With Johns help, Elspeth got a job as a technician at the same factory, earning enough to cover the basics. It wasnt a fortune, but it was enough if she managed wisely. Only one thing bothered her: John had become ever more sour. One day she dropped his coat, a phone fell out, and the screen lit up with her own photo. She smiled, went to his flat, and found him staring at the ceiling, startled.
She sat beside him, John, Ive always been afraid to say too much. I never told the people around me everything. Some are gone, some wont need to hear it. The worst part is regretting the words left unsaid
What do you mean? he asked.
Maybe Ill try. Im scared youll laugh, but John would you marry me? she blurted.
John stared, then cradled her face and said, Im no poet, but know this: Ill do everything for you and the boys.
And thats how it went.
A neighbour, Katherine Steadman, shouted from her window, Cat, cat, come here, eat! Get lost, you beast, give her food! And you, scram! Shed been on her feet all day at the hospital, exhausted. She kept twenty cats, half of which greeted her at the corner shop across the road. The felines mewed plaintively, Were dying, Mrs. Steadman! Well die right now! Shed race to the supermarket, buying half a basket of biscuits, forgetting milk and a loaf for dinner. The cats swarmed her, begging for scraps.
One stray cat, shunned by the pack, caught her attention. The other cats hissed, scaring the loner. Katherine grew angry; the house was already noisy with a dozen other cats. She heard them climbing the kitchen windowsill, pawing at glass, then darting out onto the street.
She muttered, I need to sort this out, or Ill lose my mind. She imagined calling someone, confronting the cats, but the house was already a mess, and the cats kept scattering, leaving droppings by her door.
She thought of calling the council, but the officer would just say, Well have to intervene. She sighed, knowing shed have to be firm with the cats, but she also felt sorry for them. The whole neighbourhood seemed to be a circus of animals and noisy neighbours, each with their own dramas.
And so the story goes on, tangled as it is, with council flats, broken relationships, neighbours who are both help and hindrance, and a whole lot of cats that never quite stop meowing.
