No, Emily, dont count on me. Youve got marriedstick with your husband, not me. I dont need strangers in my house, snapped Helen.
Emily swallowed hard, gripping her phone tighter. A lump rose in her throat. She hadnt expected such a dismissive refusal.
Mum Hes not a stranger. Hes my husband, your son-in-law. Were not asking you to buy us a flatjust to stay with you while we save for the deposit.
A short, irritated laugh crackled down the line.
I know how this goes. Let you stay, and youll never leave. First the deposit, then the renovations, then something else. And Ill never have peace. No, Emily, dont take it personally, but your father and I did everything ourselves without burdening anyone. Youll have to manage on your own.
Mum, how? Emily pressed. You know we both work, we scrimp on everything. Most of our money goes on rent. At this rate, with prices rising, well only ever save enough for a cardboard box.
Who has it easy these days? Helens voice sharpened. I never lived with my parents after marrying your father. We went through it all ourselves and never complained.
Yourselves, yourselves Mum, dont even start. I remember everything! I remember how Gran helped you.
Thats different. Gran helped because she wanted to. We never asked. I earned this flat fair and square, unlike your
I never asked to be born into nothing, Emily blurted out before slamming the phone down.
Her chest burned with anger. Maybe her mother had every right to refuse, but the way shed done itas if shed built an empire from scratch, and Emily was some freeloader trying to waltz in. But that wasnt how it had been at all.
When Helen found out she was pregnant, she wasnt even married. Edward, Emilys father, was careless, still sowing wild oats, avoiding responsibility. His mother was much the samelong divorced, forever chasing happiness. So Helen turned to Margaret, Edwards grandmother.
Margaret, overjoyed at the news, hugged Helen tight and promised to help.
Dont you worry, love. You have that baby. Ill have a word with Eddie, she assured. And since its come to this, Ill sign the cottage over to you. Ill move in with my daughter. Its too much for me alone, and Tanya could use a hand. Youll have somewhere to raise the little one.
Margaret, you cant! Helen gasped. Thats a whole cottage, not some shoebox!
I wont be taking it with me. Ive not been happymight as well see you are.
Margaret kept her word, even went beyond. She put the deed in Helens name, knowing her grandson wasnt the faithful sort. Helen later sold the cottage for a two-bed flat.
When Emily was born, nothing changed. Edward carried on drinking and cheating, his only contribution a paycheckand even that often went missing.
Helen knew but endured it. She complained, even cried, but never kicked him out.
Children need both parents, shed tell her mother whenever divorce was suggested. Once Emily turns eighteen, Ill leave.
Emily, however, disagreed. Better a single mum and growing up fast than being a perpetual sounding board for tears, enduring constant rows, breaking up fights.
Helen held out till Emily turned eighteen, then filed for divorce. Emily nearly rejoicedtoo soon.
Em, its just us now. Were both grown women, so well split everything, Helen announced. This month, rest up. From next month, half the bills and groceries.
Emily, still at university, was horrified. Her student loan barely covered bread, let alone the meat, fish, and veg her mother insisted on. She tried negotiating separate shelvespointless. No part-time job paid enough to cover Helens demands. Emily had to work full-time.
Within six months, she dropped out. She couldve switched to distance learning, but where would she find the time? And what employer would tolerate a student?
That decision haunted her. Every job favoured degree-holderseven stacking shelves.
At first, she blamed herself. Then, talking to friends, she realised: shed never been given a fair start.
Helen took the news calmly.
Just wasnt for you, she said.
From then on, they lived like flatmatesno fights, but no warmth either.
Ten years passed. Emily married Jack. They rented a cramped one-bed on the outskirts. He worked as an electricianessential but poorly paid. Side gigs helped, but the money vanished: boots, dentist bills, patching budget holes. They saved, but
At this rate, itll take twelve years, Jack sighed, staring at his phone.
Thats when Emily asked Helen. Her mother had a spare room.
But Helen wasnt keenespecially not with a stranger.
Emily didnt know how to react. She understood her mothers life wasnt easy. Maybe shed have grown just as hard in her place. But it still hurt. Years of effort, never asking for anythingthen one small request met with ice.
Fine. If its on their own, so be it. Emily had a backupthe holiday home shed nearly forgotten.
Youve got yours, love. Let Em have hers, her gran had once said.
After Gran died, twelve-year-old Emily never mentioned it. Helen took charge: planting potatoes, fixing fences, arguing with neighbours. Everything grown went to the family.
But if Helen prized independence so much, why not follow her example?
Two days later, Emily called againdifferent tone.
Mum, Im calling to warn you. Get your things from the holiday home. Were renting it out.
A pause. Helen scoffed.
Renting? Whod take it?
Not your concern. Its sitting empty, just costing me taxes.
Not my concern? Ive kept it from rotting! Ive spent money, fixed the roofyouve not lifted a finger!
Nobody asked you to. You chose to, Emily cut in. Take your things, or Ill rent it as is.
Well see about that
Helen hung up. Emilys heart raced, but for the first time, shed spoken as an equalan adult with her own rights.
Helens words proved partly right. Few wanted the place.
We could sell or move there, Jack mused.
Emily listed it. It hurtnot the bricks, but the memories. Summers, apple trees, Grans jams But life demanded it. Gran wouldve approved.
One day, a call. A stranger asked the price, haggled, arranged a viewing.
But at the viewingHelen. Shed seen the ad and sent a friend. Calling herself wouldve been awkward; they hadnt spoken since that last call.
So, discount for family? Helen smirked.
No choice. Emily agreed. The sale went through. Six months later, she and Jack drank tea in their own kitchenno unannounced visits, no inspections.
Then Helen called. First time since the sale. Emily answered, fearing an emergency.
Hi. I was at theholiday home. Loads of apples this year. Made jamtoo much. Want some?
Emily sighed. After selling, she felt hollow. No anger, no resentment. But no love either. Their relationship was transactional now. And business partners didnt deliver jam for free.
No, Mum, thanks. Well manage.
Alright Suit yourself.
Emily knew things would never go back. And she didnt want them to. Helen had stood her ground, Emily hers. But the walls theyd built left no room for bridges.
