Youre careless, Mum. Go have your babies somewhere else.
Eleanor was only seventeen when she married Raymond, right out of sixth form. Within a month she was wearing a ring and sporting a bump that showed so quickly the neighbours gossiped in the queue outside Sainsburys”Bet shes up the duff, the poor girl.”
She had a daughter, who they named Alice, and Eleanor moved into her mother-in-law Bettys flat. Although Betty herself lived just two bus stops away, she insisted on keeping a close eye on the newlyweds. The flat was huge by English standardsthree bedrooms, high ceilings, and old furniture Betty had bought back in her youth. Eleanor always felt like a guest, never fully at home, somehow overstaying her welcome by years.
Eleanor adored her baby, Alice. Nappies, little vests, sleepless nights, the first tooth, first step, and the first Mummyall these moments melted her heart with warmth. But Alice didnt just have her mum; she had Gran Betty, who visited daily, and her Aunt Susan, Raymonds older sister, who lived in the tiny box room off the kitchen. Susan was five years older than Raymondalways buttoned-up, with her hair tightly knotted and a permanent air of disapproval, as if shed caught a whiff of something unpleasant. Betty and Susan were both fiercely properwomen who always knew best. How to raise children, roast a chicken, wash whites, and deal with men.
Eleanor, why do you let Ray swan off to the pub with his mates? Betty would purse her lips. My Frankrest his soulalways came home after work. Family was his sacred duty.
Eleanor never argued. With Betty, there was little pointshe could silence any disagreement with a look. Then Susan would chime in,
Just keep an eye on Alice, Eleanor. She needs nurturing. Ive brought her some booksher age group. Kids these days, its all down to the mother whether they run riot.
So, Eleanor watched, and Alice dutifully read the books, went to museums with her gran, took English lessons Betty insisted on, and grew up every bit the proper young lady. Neighbours noted she was the spit of Betty in her youth.
Raymond was a quiet man, an engineer at a local factory, who loved a pint and footie on the telly after work. Eleanor loved him with the kind of affection that comes after ten yearswhen all the rows have already been had, and you can drop the pretences. Raymond loved Eleanor too, in his quiet waybringing her a cup of tea in bed, getting up first to fry eggs when she needed the sleep.
Betty treated her son with chilly authority, as if hed never quite grown up. She was forever sighing, Ray, stand up for yourself. Youre like a shadow. Your wife looks at you and doesnt know if shes married to a man or a schoolboy.
Raymond would just slump his shoulders. At night, Eleanor stroked his head in the darkness and murmured, Dont mind them, love, youre everything I could want. He didnt reply, just heaved a sigh and drifted off. Eleanor would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, troubled that she couldnt stand up to his mothernot in someone elses flat, always the eternal guest.
When Alice turned thirteen, Betty was diagnosed with cancer. Pancreatic. She didnt cry. Her lips just set even tighter, and she went straight to the solicitors to arrange her will. She split her estate in what she considered a fair manner: her two-bedroom city centre flat to Susan, and the larger three-bedroom one (where Eleanor and Raymond lived) to Raymond. Fair, Betty thoughteach had a roof over their heads.
Then the unthinkable happened. Three weeks after Betty made her will, Raymond left work as usual, headed for the bus stop, and was hit crossing the street by a car. The drivera young woman on her phonewas later found responsible. Eleanor heard it first from Susan, who rang in tears.
El, Rays gone. Car accident. By the time the ambulance got there, it was too late. Youve got to come to the mortuary, identify him.
Eleanor barely remembered getting there, looking at his face, signing papers, staring blankly out of the taxi home. Alice had stayed with her gran that day, so Eleanor arrived to a flat echoing with silence. She sat on the sofa all night, wide awake.
Betty only outlived her son by two months. The doctors said the illness progressed rapidly, treatment did nothing, and her body just gave up. But Eleanor thought Betty lost the will to live with Ray gone. She might have criticised and bossed him, but he was still her boy, and without him, something fundamental snapped in her. Betty faded away to a tiny shadow on a hospital bed, staring into nothing. Before she died, she called the solicitor to the hospital and changed her will. The three-bedroom flat, originally meant for Ray, was now left to Alice, her granddaughter.
For Alice, the flat, Betty told Susan, who sat at her bedside. And youll have the other, as planned. Watch out for Alice, dont let her go astray, not like her mother. Eleanors good, but soft. Alice needs a firm hand.
Susan nodded, her expression as hard as everher mothers daughter, through and through.
So, Eleanor remained in the flat with her daughter. Officially it belonged to Alice, but at fourteen she wasnt of age, so Eleanor was guardian, and life carried on. She had no time to think about ownershipshe worked, raised Alice, shouldered everything she and Raymond once shared.
Five years went by in a blur of work, bills, and relentless striving. Eleanor wanted Alice to have what other children didnice clothes, a phone, tutors. She never complained; she just pushed on. When Alice won a fully-funded place at a top university, Eleanor wept with pride. It had all been worth it. By her second year, Alice was already earning, doing translation work thanks to the English lessons Betty had pressed for.
Just when things seemed to settle, Eleanor met Nigel. They bumped into each other on the bushe lifted her heavy shopping bag and they struck up a conversation. He worked nearby, was thirteen years older, with two grown-up children, and his wife had been wheelchair-bound since a stroke five years ago. Nigel cared for her now.
Im no saint, he told Eleanor, sitting on a park bench and holding her hand. I cant abandon her. Weve been together years, and shes the mother of my kids. But Ive forgotten about hope and happinessuntil you.
Eleanor understood. At thirty-eight, she wasnt looking for fairy tales or knights in shining armour. She simply took what was left.
She kept Nigel a secret from Alice at firstmade excuses about working late or visiting friends. But Alice was sharp. She spotted her mums softer eyes, the sudden smile, and one evening when she saw Eleanor take a new dress from the wardrobe, bought especially for a date, Alice just asked outright:
Mum, are you seeing someone? The perfume, the dress tell me the truth.
Eleanor blushed, flustered, and told her everything. About Nigel, his wife, and that she really loved him.
Alices expression hardened, her voice cold and measuredeerily like Bettys.
So let me get this straight, Mum. Youre falling for a married man. You taught me the difference between right and wrong and nowlook at you. Running after someone elses husband.
Alice, darling, you dont understand Eleanor tried, but Alice cut her off.
Oh, trust me, I do. Youre lonely, you crave warmth, Im not stupid. But there are boundaries. Married men are off-limits. Youre not eighteen anymoreyou cant play at this.
Eleanor was hurt and cried, but brushed it off as youthful zeal. Alice saw things in black and whiteno shades of grey.
Eleanor and Nigel met in secretat a friends cottage when he was away, or in a rented flat for the night. Eleanor knew this wasnt some teenage fantasy, but she cherished every moment.
Sometimes, Nigel confessed, lying beside her in someone elses flat, I think I dont deserve this. You, happiness. I watch over my wife and all I do is feel guilty. Does that make me a bad man?
Its not right, Eleanor admitted, but Im not here to judge. I just want you.
Youre special, he murmured, kissing her shoulder. The very best. I wont abandon you, promise. Whatever happens, Ill be here.
And Eleanor believed him, because she needed to. After years alone, struggling on her own, she longed for someoneanyoneto tell her, Youre wonderful, Im with you.
The shock arrived when Eleanor discovered she was pregnant. She didnt believe ittook three tests, saw the GP, sat trembling while the nurse confirmed, Youre around six weeksheartbeats there, its all fine. Eleanor broke down outside the clinic from a mixture of dread and hope.
She agonised over how to tell Nigel. Would he be pleased? Terrified? Supportive? She knew his loyalty to his wife and family, his fear of upheaval. But deep down, she also dreaded telling Alice.
Days passed. Finally, one evening, as Alice returned from Aunt Susans, Eleanor sat her down in the kitchen.
Alice, I have something to tell you. Im pregnant.
Alice froze, mug mid-air.
Is it Nigels? she whispered.
Yes. Hes the father.
I suspected as much. Alices laugh was strained and bitter. Mum, what are you thinking? Youre thirty-eight, you work two jobs, I only just got into uni, things only just settledand now youre having another baby? From a man who cant leave his wife, who promises you nothing?
Dont, please, Eleanors voice trembled. Its my life, my child. Im not asking your permission.
Im glad you know its not my business, said Alice, getting up, face white, eyes narrowing. Heres what Ill say. In this flatmy flatyou wont be having more babies. This is my home. Gran left it to me, not you.
Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face. She looked at the daughter shed raisednursery runs, school, lessons, scrimping to give her everythingand didnt recognise her. A hard, unfamiliar young woman stood there, sounding just like Betty and Susan.
Alice, what are you saying? Eleanors hands shook; she gripped the table to stay upright. This is our home, we built a life here, I raised you in these rooms
You lived here while Dad was alive, Alice interrupted. When he died, Gran could have made you leave. She only let you stay because I was a child and needed you. But this flats always been mine, Mum. Do you get that? Mine. I wont throw you out, Im not cruel. Youll always have a roof here. But youre not having another baby or bringing your married man here. If you want a family, go to your babys fathersee if hell house you.
How can you say that? Tears streamed down Eleanors face. I had you young
Yes, Mum, and you didnt think it through. Now youre repeating your mistake. Only this time, with a man who cant provide a home. If he runs scared youll be left alone with a newbornonly this time youre nearly forty, not eighteen. I wont be playing nanny. My own life comes first.
You dont want to help me? Eleanors eyes brimmed with pain and disbelief. Alice couldnt meet her gazejust for a moment.
Youre my mum, I love you, but this isnt my problem. Im starting life myself, uni and work. I cant drop everything for your choices.
You sound just like your auntlike Gran. Always knowing best, and Ill always be the outsider, is that it?
Mum, stop making me the bad guy, Alice winced. Youll always have a home here, but only for you. No men, no babies. I decide who lives here. If you want the baby, fine, but not in this flat. Its my choice not to have my life upturned by your decisions.
Not yours? Eleanor clutched her chest. Its still my childyour sibling, your own flesh and blood!
Alice shook her head, eyes glistening. Its yours, Mum. Not mine. Im not here to babysit, or lose my home to a crying baby. Ive only just started out. I want to study, to work.
Eleanor collapsed onto a chair, legs numb. Through her tears she watched Alicestaunch and unmoved as ever, arms folded, mouth pinched exactly like Bettys and Susans, women whod always reminded Eleanor of her outsider status.
If Dad had lived another two months, half this flat would be mine by law she murmured.
But he didnt, Alice snapped. Gran did what she thought was right and left it to me, because she didnt trust you. She saw you as carelesshaving me young, now doing it again. If youd inherited, youd have frittered it away. Gran trusted me, and I wont let her down.
You wont let her down, Eleanor repeated, aching. You already are her right down to the voice. Im only here because you permit it. An intruder, tolerated out of charity.
Mum, stop the drama, Alice sighed. No one is throwing you out. But you have to stand on your own feet. Go to Nigel, make him responsible. Hes the childs father.
He cant support us, Eleanor blurted, instantly regretting it.
There you are then, Alice sneered, the look pure Betty. You knew he couldnt offer you anythingno home, no family, nothing stable. And you want me to share my flat and take on your baby while you sneak off for secret dates? No, thanks.
Im not asking you to babysit, Eleanor whispered. Just accept and understand, and please, dont kick me out onto the street.
Im not kicking you out, Alice repeated coldly. But if you go through with this, youll need another place before the baby arrives. Im not letting my plans collapse for your decisions.
Eleanor rose, stumbled to her room, and curled up on the bed like a child.
Something inside her snappedthe invisible thread binding a mother to her child, even when that child becomes an adult. Now, it dangled loose, a gaping emptiness swallowing memoriesthe first steps, the first Mummy, cartoons in the lounge, little Alice whispering, Mummy, I love you most in the whole world.
Im not a mistake Eleanor mouthed into her pillow, the words so faint she could barely hear them herself. Im not a mistake. Im your mother.
But through the wall, music blared as Alice switched on the telly, signalling the conversation was finished. Eleanor realised her daughter had said all she meant to say and felt no remorse about it.
Lying in the dark, Eleanor reached for her phone and rang Nigel. He answered on the second ringawake by his wifes bedside.
Nigel Eleanors voice was empty. Im pregnant. I need somewhere to liveflat, money, so I can look after the baby at least in the first year. Tell me honestly, can you do it?
She heard him catch his breath. Then he talked rapidly, defensively.
El you know my situation. My wife needs meher care and medicines, and the kids chip in, but honestly things are tight. I want to help, but I cant just abandon her, I cant. Renting a flat and covering all the bills I just cant manage it. I wont leave you high and dry, but I can only do a little
A little, Eleanor echoed. I see.
Please, lets talk, look for a solutiontheres always another way
She hung up, didnt even say goodbye. Placing the phone down, she closed her eyes, barely moving all night, listening to the fridge hum and distant barking outside. When dawn broke, she got up, dressed silently, took her passport and insurance card, and left the flat.
At the surgery she waited two hours, motionless, eyes glazed. When the nursethe same one as last weekasked, So, are we booking you in today? Eleanor replied, calm and flat:
No, Im here for a termination.
The nurse just sighed and made a note. Eleanor stepped outside into the crisp morning, breathing deeply until her chest ached. There on the clinic steps, she wept into her hands, unnoticed as other women walked pastsome with bumps, some pushing prams.
In the end, Eleanor realised: Raising children, being a mother, living wellnone of it is as simple or as black-and-white as people make out. Sometimes, even the deepest love gets tested by circumstance, leaving only the hope that, in time, forgiveness gently fills the gaps where harsh words once lived.
