Did you get a mortgage for a flat? Helen practically shouted down the phone with glee. Thats marvellous, darling! Absolutely smashing!
Lucy stifled a laugh on the other end, and Helen could hear her son-in-law muttering something in the background.
Mum, do you have to shout? The neighbours will hear
Let them! Helen snorted. So, when can I come round to see it? Today? Tomorrow? Ill bake that apple pie, the one Jack adores.
Lucy hesitated for a second.
Come by on Saturday. Well have the furniture sorted then.
On Saturday, Helen found herself in the middle of a bright living room, spinning slowly on the spot as she took in the high ceilings, big windows, and the delightful smell of new paint and, well, fresh plaster.
The kitchens massive, can you believe it? Lucy led her mum down the hall. And theres a glassed-in balcony. Well park the pram out there eventually.
Its lovely, Helen ran her hand down the wall. Jack, youve done brilliantly!
Jack only shrugged.
Were doing our best, Mrs. Watson.
Over lunch (with Helen claiming a second hunk of pie as though it was a medical necessity), she finally got around to what shed been thinking all morning.
I was so worried about you two, honestly. Lucy, seven months along, and you still renting. The landlady could have turfed you out whenever she fancied. Its not right!
Lucy exchanged glances with Jack. Helen caught her daughter repressing a frown.
Mum, we managed.
Managed, Helen set her fork down. I lay awake at night worrying. How you were getting on, what would happen if something went wrong? Children need stability. A home of their own.
Jack cleared his throat and pushed away his plate.
The payments arent exactly tiny. But weve budgeted for everything.
How much? Helen peered at them.
Reasonable, Lucy cut in. For London, its reasonable.
Helen surveyed her daughters tense shoulders and Jacks intense study of the tablecloth pattern. They were both scared stiff but too proud to admit it.
Well, listen here, Helen put on her best teacher voice. I will help, no arguments. And Jack, your parents will chip in too, wont they?
They promised, Jack nodded. Mum says shell send what she can each month.
You see! Helen settled back with a triumphant smile. Youll manage. Were all in this together, you know.
Lucy managed a weak smile, but the anxiety didnt quite leave her eyes.
Oliver was born in Marcha strapping, red-faced howler, perfectly healthy. Helen became a regular visitor, turning up every week with soup, washing nappies, and taking her grandson out for a spin around the new-builds garden in his sparkling pram.
Life slipped into a routine. Jack got promoted and Lucy started talking about a second child.
Two years later, little Pippa arrived, and the flat was once more alive with shrieks and scattered toys and the relentless chorus of sleepless nights. Helen looked at Lucys sparkling eyes and felt sure theyd got things right at last.
Then Jack was made redundant.
Helen didnt find out at once. Lucy dodged her questions, saying they were just tired. The truth fluttered out by accident when Helen dropped in unexpectedly and found Lucy crying over a sea of paperwork.
We cant keep up, Mum, Lucy said quietly. Three months behind on the mortgage. The bank calls every day.
Helen pulled every string, phoned every cousin, begged and borrowed, but it wasnt enough. Jacks parents could barely afford their own bills after Jacks dad landed in hospital.
Six months later, the bank repossessed the flat.
Helen was perched at her friend Angelas kitchen table, unable to touch her tea.
Theyre in a one-bed flat now, Helen gripped her mug. Two kids, Angela. Olivers four, Pippas two. Theres nowhere to play; theyre climbing the walls, all four in one room!
Angela tutted.
Oh, Helen, thats dreadful.
I told them theyd manage, Helen dabbed at her eyes. I swore Id help. But what can I do? My pension is a joke and any odd jobs are just that, odd. I was the idiot who convinced them everything would work out!
You couldnt have known, Angela said gently. Lifes unpredictable.
But does that help? Does it make it any easier for the children? Or for Lucy?
Helen hid her face. Shed thought life was settling down for her daughter. It had only got harder. They used to be cramped but on their own. Now they were cramped with two kids.
Time trickled by.
Eventually, Lucy and Jack paid off their debt to the bank. It was the best news in ages.
So what now? asked Helen.
Saving for our own place again, Lucy confessed. Something smaller and more sensible, this time.
Thats the spirit, Helen nodded into the phone. As long as its yours.
Two more years crawled past. Oliver turned six, and Helen went to his birthday wielding a box bigger than her handbag. She had agonised for three hours choosing the construction set, hunting for the one with cars and garages Oliver had been dreaming of since Christmas.
Gran! Oliver flung himself at her. Is that for me?
All yours, love, Helen kissed the top of his head. And one more thing.
She dug into her bag and handed Oliver an envelope. Oliver peered inside, eyes like saucers.
How much is that?
Two hundred pounds, Helen crouched down next to him. You wanted a new phone, right? Start saving! Grans contribution.
Oliver clutched the envelope to his chest and zoomed off to show Pippa his loot. Lucy stood in the kitchen doorway, watching, but Helen didnt notice the odd look on her daughters face.
Two weeks later, Helen called Oliver. He answered on the third ring.
Hi Gran!
Hello, darling! How are you? Hows things?
Great! Oliver rattled away. Mum bought me new t-shirts and shorts for summer, and trainers that light up!
Helens antennae pricked up.
New clothes? Where did Mum get the money?
Mum used the money you gave me, Oliver chirped. She said I could get the phone later, clothes are more important right now.
Helen froze, clutching her phone, an unfamiliar heaviness rising in her chest.
Can I speak to Mum, sweetheart?
Shes busy.
Alright, Helen squeezed out a smile. Bye, love.
She ended the call and sat very still, stewing quietly. Clearly, someone needed another lesson in parenting.
The next morning, Helen was knocking on Lucys door at the crack of dawn.
How could you? she blew in, bristling. That money was for Oliver! Not you!
Lucy rubbed her eyes wearily.
Calm down, Mum.
Pardon? Helen barked. He wanted a phone! I gave him that money so he could save up, not so you could splash out on summer clothes!
Lucys face went blank and cool.
Mum, I used it how I thought best.
Best? Helen nearly spluttered. Stealing from your own child for a pair of shorts?
He needed summer clothes, Lucy said, annoyingly placid. We didnt have extra money.
What about asking me? Helen stepped forward. What about consulting me?
No, Mum, Lucy shook her head. In my house, Ill do what I see fit with the money. Its not up for discussion.
Not up for discussion? Helen was at full boil now. So its not my business how you waste money? You lot couldn’t handle a mortgage, lost the flat, and now this! Its obvious youre both hopeless!
Lucy paled, lips tight but silent.
Now youre even nicking from your own childdisgraceful! Absolutely disgraceful!
Please leave, Mum, Lucy said, voice low. Just leave.
Helen stormed out without a goodbye, still simmering. Her daughter was out of orderand had the cheek to throw her out! Oh, well. Lucy would come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. That would show her!
But a month rolled by, and Lucy neither rang nor replied to messages.
Helen was back at Angelas kitchen table, now mangling a napkin.
Shes cut me off, Helen shook her head. My own daughter! Wont even let me see the grandchildren. Wont pick up.
Angela refilled her tea without a word.
What did you say to her, though?
The truth! Helen sat upright. That theyre clueless with money! Hopeless! Whatam I wrong?
Angela gazed out the window, gathering her thoughts.
Helen, you gave that money to Oliver?
Yes.
Then you gave it awayits not yours anymore.
But it was for a phone!
And they spent it on clothes, Angela pointed out. The lad needed something for summernot another phone.
Helen opened her mouth, but Angela cut her off.
And you shouldnt have brought up the mortgage loss either. They slogged for years, worked hard, raised those children. You called them hopeless.
I meant well, Helen drooped. I just worry.
You worry, Angela nodded. But it comes out as hurt. Maybe you should ring first? Orapologise?
Helen pursed her lips and looked away, stubborn as anything. After all, she was older and only wanted the best, wasn’t she?
