No, there’s really no need for you to come right now, Mum. Just think about the journey. Its a long trip, all night on a train, and youre not getting any younger. Why put yourself through it? Plus, its spring, and Im sure youve got lots to do in the garden, my son tells me.
But love, why wouldnt I come? We havent seen each other in ages. And Id really love to meet your wife properlyyou know how it is, I want to get to know my daughter-in-law a bit better, I say honestly.
Alright, how about this: lets wait until the end of the month. Well all come to you, just in time for Easter, when there are a few days off, he reassures me.
Truth be told, I was ready to set off, but I agreed to stay home and wait for him, believing what he said.
Of course, in the end, no one came to visit. I called my son a few times, but he kept missing my calls. He rang back later, only to say he was terribly busy, and not to expect him.
I was absolutely crushed. Id been looking forward to my son and his wife coming. He got married six months ago and I still havent met her.
I had my son, Edward, as they say, for myself. I was thirty, never married, and decided to bring a child into the world on my own.
Maybe its not entirely proper, but Ive never once regretted my decision, though it was far from easymoney was tight, and we barely scraped by. I always worked several jobs to make sure my son had everything he needed.
Edward grew up and left to study in London. To support him at first, I took up seasonal work in Europe to send him enough for his studies and rent in the capital. It warmed my mothers heart to be able to help.
By his third year, Edward had got himself a part-time job and was managing alone. Once he graduated and found proper work, he supported himself entirely.
He used to come home, but rarelymaybe once a year. As for me, Ive never even been to London, shameful as it is to admit.
I thought, well, when Edward gets married, Ill make the journey, which is why I started saving up. I managed to put away £1,500.
Six months back, he called me with the news I had longed to hearhe was getting married.
Mum, dont come just yet. Were just registering and will have the wedding later, he told me.
I was disappointed, but what could I do? He introduced me to his wife over a video call. She seemed pleasant enough. Quite striking, really. And clearly well-off. Her father is some bigwig businessman. All I could do was be glad things had worked out for him.
Time passed, and still no visit from Edward or an invitation to theirs. I ached to meet my daughter-in-law and hug my son, so I decided to go myself. I booked a train to London, packed some homemade foodbaked bread, preserves, and picklesand set off. I called my son right before I left.
Oh, Mum Why? Im at work, I cant come to meet you. Heres the address. Just get a taxi, he said.
I arrived in London in the morning, called a cab, and was shocked at how much it cost. But the early morning city looked beautiful from the taxi window.
His wife opened the door for me. She didnt smile, didnt hug mejust coolly asked me to come into the kitchen. Edward had left early for work.
I started unpackingpotatoes, beetroot, eggs, dried apples, pickled mushrooms, cucumbers, tomatoes, and a few jars of jam. My daughter-in-law silently watched, then coolly said there was no pointWe dont eat this, and I never cook.
What do you eat, then? I asked, surprised.
We get daily deliveries. I cant bear cookingthe smell lingers in the house far too long, Penelope replied.
I was still digesting that when a little boy came into the kitchen, about three years old.
This is my son, Oliver, she said.
Oliver? I repeated.
Yes, Oliver. Please dont mix up his name, she snapped.
Alright, as you wish, Penelope.
And not PennyPenelope. In the city, people use names properly; of course, you wouldnt know that…
I felt like bursting into tearsnot because Edward married a woman with a son, but because he never told me.
But that wasnt the last surprise. I glanced at the wall and saw a big wedding portrait.
Oh, so you did have a wedding. At least you had lovely pictures taken, I said, trying to steer the conversation.
What do you mean, no wedding? Of course we had one. Two hundred guests. Only you werent thereEdward said you were unwell. Maybe its for the best, Penelope said, looking me over.
Would you like some breakfast?
I would, I replied.
She put down a cup of tea and some slices of expensive cheese. That, apparently, was her idea of a meal.
Im not used to that, particularly after a long journey. I decided to fry up some eggs and have the bread I brought, but Penelope flat out refused, saying she didnt want the kitchen smelling of eggs. She refused to touch my bread, claiming she and Edward only eat health food.
Suddenly, Id lost my appetite. All those years I looked forward to my sons wedding, scrimped and saved, only to find I wasnt wanted.
I sipped my tea. Silence. The sort that makes your skin crawl. Then Oliver ran up to me, hugging me. I tried to return the hug, but Penelope waved her hands franticallyPlease dont, you might have brought something with you, and hes just a child.
I hadnt brought gifts for the boy, so I offered him a jar of my raspberry jamFor your pancakessomething sweet.
Penelope snatched it from my handsHow many times must I tell you? We dont eat sugar!
That was itI was on the verge of tears. I couldnt finish my tea, so I slipped on my shoes in the hall. Penelope didnt even ask where I was going.
I went outside, found a bench, and finally let myself cry. Id never in my life felt so small.
After a little while, I noticed Penelope taking Oliver for a walkand throwing away all my food into the bin.
I was speechless. Once theyd gone, I fished everything back out and went straight to the station. As luck would have it, someone had returned a train ticket for that evening, and I bought it.
Near the station was a little café. I bought myself a bowl of soup, some meat, potatoes, and a side salad. I was starved. It cost a fair bit, but didnt I deserve something nice?
I stowed my bags in the locker, then wandered around London for a few hours. The city was lovely; I almost forgot my woes.
I didnt sleep a wink on the trainjust cried. I was gutted: Edward hadnt even called to see where Id gone.
I wouldve sooner believed it could snow in summer than expected to be received by my only son this way. He was my one hope, and in the end, I meant nothing to him.
Now I dont know what to do with the £1,500 I set aside for his wedding. Should I give it to him, so he knows his mum always cared? Or should I keep it, since hes done nothing to earn it?
