Did you put him on the rental register? Sams eyes widened, the surprise as sharp as a lighthouse beam. His mother had never even thought of such a thing.
And what? Is Igor supposed to be a permanent lodger? she murmured, glancing at the man sharing the flat, halfwhispered.
Hes already forty he should have his own place!
Sams father had died when Sam was thirteen, and his little sister Ethel was only three. No one could step in; the only maternal grandmother had passed away two years earlier, and there were no other relatives to call upon.
To be honest, Sam hadnt missed his father much the man drifted from one night shift to another, a ghost in the hallway, rarely seen. Still, he had kept the bills paid, and now the household was scraping by on their mothers modest shopkeepers wages.
It pained Sam to watch his mother unravel after losing her provider. He helped where he could, patched the household, looked after Ethel, and never objected when, a year later, she brought home a stranger named Nicholas.
A stranger didnt belong in their cramped flat, yet the mother suddenly smiled again, her cheeks gaining colour, her steps lighter. The calm lingered only a few months before Nicholas vanished.
He turned out to be married, Sam heard his mother sobbing to the neighbour. He was only on assignment. Of course its nicer to live in a cosy flat than in a cheap hotel!
Oh, Annie, the neighbour sighed. You have two children youd better look after them than chase after phantom husbands.
Then came the burly Serge Whitaker, who called his mother my little swallow and Sam and Ethel his fledglings. He lasted half a year. After him, a quiet, unassuming gentleman named Stephen moved in; he lingered three months.
Why luck abandoned the mothers romantic life, Sam could not fathom. She was pretty, diligent, caring After Stephen, silence settled.
I dont need anyone, Anne Whitaker declared to the same neighbour. The good Lord gave me healthy children Ill raise them and be happy.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He was sixteen then, dreaming of a university place in another city.
Thanks to his late grandmother, Sam had started school at six, so he could not leave without his mothers blessing, and he could not abandon his sister to Annes increasingly chaotic world.
What are you talking about, dear! Anne flapped her hands when Sam stammered about his plans near the end of Year Eleven. Of course you should go! Kitty and I will manage here. I cant promise much money, though, she said sadly.
Ill look after myself, Sam declared, feeling a sudden surge. Will you be okay?
Absolutely.
He didnt yet know that Annes easy heart was a mask. He enrolled at university, moved into a dormitory, studied hard and took evening jobs. It wasnt easy, but Sam was ready for hardship.
He soon discovered how much he missed his mother, and especially his little sister. Ethel idolised him, treating him like a deity, obeying every word. She wept when she learned he would leave, then solemnly promised to wait for his return.
A few months after Sams departure, Ethels voice over the phone, which had been a bright chirp every three days, grew weak and sorrowful. One day she broke down completely.
Come on, my little gremlin, Sam ordered gently. Dry those tears and tell me whats wrong. Only the truth. You know lying isnt right.
Ethel obeyed, and within five minutes Sams skin prickled with the tale that unfolded.
As soon as Sam left, Anne introduced Uncle Ivor a boisterous tradesman who announced himself as the master of the house. He was an electrician at a small firm, balding, ruddyfaced, not handsome at all, but he behaved like a king with both the mother and her daughter. Anne rolled out a carpet before him, forgetting her child entirely.
Eightyearold Ethel walked to a school two streets away and trekked home alone. Anne stopped escorting her to the swimming pool and the theatre class: If you want to go, go yourself. Learn independence.
Uncle Ivor demanded that the girl cook, wash, iron everything herself. Anne tried to cling to some authority, but it seemed fleeting.
Moreover, Ethel was forbidden to leave her room without permission while Ivor was home, and she was to avoid his sight whenever possible.
Whats happened to mother? Has she lost her mind? Sam muttered after listening to his sisters lament. Ill talk to her! Dont cry, my gremlin, Ill sort this out.
But the knot refused to loosen.
Have I not earned a slice of happiness? Anne snapped when Sam blamed her for Ethels suffering. Ivor is a fine man! And Ethel is just a pampered brat who needs discipline.
Ethel? Anne had always called her Kitty in rare moments of irritation, and now she switched to Ethel as if it were a verdict.
Mum, are you feeling alright? Does anything hurt? Sam asked cautiously.
I feel splendid, Anne replied, then softened: Ethel is only exaggerating a bit She misses you, so shes fantasising, hoping youll feel sorry for her.
Sam doubted Ethel was merely dreaming, yet he had no reason to distrust his mother. He steadied himself, focusing on his studies, hoping to finish the term early and land a job.
Money was a nightmare. He didnt drink, smoke, or haunt nightclubs. He passed the exams with automatic passes, but the job offer slipped away.
Im scared of him, Ethel cried into the handset, her voice trembling. Mother and he argue, she never leaves her room for hours, and sometimes he roams the flat naked
What do you mean, completely?
Yes, Ethel pressed, repeating: Im scared of him.
Sams imagination had never been tame, and now grotesque pictures swirled in his mind. He caught the first bus home, and the nightmare became reality.
Uncle Ivor stalked the flat like a shadow, looking down on Sam, shouting at Anne:
Your son has arrived, yet you cant even set a table for the men!
She answered with a smug smile to her cohabitant: Hold on, Ivor, hold on, everything will be fine.
Sam refused to drink with the master. He slipped into his sisters room, where she now wept with relief. At the edge of hearing, Ivor muttered to Anne: He raised the boy poorly, no respect for elders, and she murmured something frightened in return.
It took Sam only a couple of days to confirm Ethels words. Ivor ruled the flat with an iron fist, issuing orders to Sam that were met with instant defiance.
No one tells me what to do in my own home!
Ah Ivor growled. Look, your son doesnt see me as a person. Explain that to him.
Son, whats the fuss? Anne swooped in. Ivors also registered here youll have to sort it out since were all living together
Did you register him on the tenancy? Sams astonishment knew no bounds. He never imagined his mother would think of that.
And why not? Isnt Ivor just a permanent lodger? she whispered, eyes flicking to the man on the sofa.
Hes forty; he should have his own flat!
Their quarrel was interrupted by a sudden slam of the front door. Ivor, offended, stormed out. Anne flinched, lunged after him, but Sam held her back.
Mum, whats happening? he asked, trying to meet her gaze. Could he be poisoning you? Should we see a doctor?
What do you know? Anne sobbed. Maybe for the first time in my life Ive loved someone! And Ivor loves me! Do you think its easy to live without a husband? tears flooded her cheeks.
Sam was lost. He felt pity for his mother, for his sister, and even for himself he could not abandon them both. His university studies faded into the background
The pressing need, however, was to rid the flat of Uncle Ivor.
No amount of pleading swayed Anne; it was as if Ivor had hypnotised her.
Sam turned to the internet, the modern oracle.
Mum, either you kick him out, or Ill take legal action, he declared firmly.
What court, dear? Ivor lives here lawfully, Anne replied, equally firm.
Well see. You registered him when I was a minor; now everythings changed. Think about it, Sam said, unyielding.
Ivor, evidently unwilling to face a courtroom, vanished within two days.
Anne now cast reproachful, tearfilled glances at Sam, then sometimes smiled and disappeared for hours, as if reconciled with her lover.
Sam switched to distance learning and found work back in his hometown. He hoped Anne would come to her senses, and for now he remained close, just in case anything else spiralled in that strange, sleepless flat.
