Theres a mum, and then theres a daughterinlaw. In my case the latter turned out to be the friends girl, Elaine.
A sunny break in Tenerife ended up with a holiday romance, a pregnancy, and eventually a birth. Little Molly came into the world a tanned babe with dark eyes and a grin that could melt butter.
Elaine kept her job, while Molly looked after the infant, but every evening she slipped out for a bit of metime. Occasionally shed bring a bloke home. My own mother knew all this, but she never poked her nose into Elaines affairs.
When Molly turned five, Elaine announced she was moving in with a new fellow. He hadnt the faintest idea there was a child involved. She begged my mother to keep Molly with her.
So my mother cashed in her retirement and settled onto a modest state pension. Elaine would now and then toss a few quid onto her bank card.
Molly missed her mum terribly. Shed stare out the kitchen window, flinch at every hallway creak, and cling to any sound like a dog to a bone.
Visits from Elaine grew sparser, the money transfers steadier. One evening she finally decided to pop round, loaded with presents and biscuits. She arrived just as Molly, fresh from a bath, was in her nighty watching her favourite bedtime show, Goodnight, Little Ones.
Hearing her mums voice, Molly leapt off the sofa, sprinted to Elaine, and clutched her neck with both tiny hands. Mum, Ive missed you so much! I love you! she squealed.
Molly, love, let go a bit, Elaine said, trying not to look like shed been hit with a brick. I love you too, you know.
But the little grip was ironclad. Elaine struggled to free herself, and Molly, undeterred, latched onto her mothers ankles. Youre not going anywhere, are you? You wont ditch me again? Were stuck together forever? she demanded.
Hold on, love, Elaine coaxed, Ill fetch you soon enough. Ive got to be off now.
I was in the kitchen, tears streaming like a busted tap, while Elaine rummaged through the firstaid cupboard for some ibuprofen.
She waved a hurried goodbye, slammed the door, and left. Molly sat on the floor, hands folded on her knees, eyes glazed over, not crying but staring into the void.
Mum doesnt love me, shes gone. Ive got no dad. Everyone else has one, I dont, she muttered.
My dear, Im right here, my mother said, lifting her up. Molly threw her arms around her and rested her head on my mothers shoulder.
Gran, will you tell me the tale of the rooster and the fox? she asked.
Sure thing, love. Ill tuck you in and spin it for you, my mother replied.
I gave Elaine a wave that said Im off, and she answered with a look that said Take care. God bless my grandmother, may she raise this child well. Perhaps Elaine will have a change of heart yet you never know what life will throw at you.
I recall a similar yarn from my youth. A young woman got pregnant, kept it secret, and a year later the truth slipped out during a medical visit. When the bloke discovered the deception, he bolted, claiming he didnt want a mother like that for his future children.
We like to keep the hope alive, dont we?
