Towards a New Life
Mum, how much longer are we going to rot in this backwater? Ellies familiar complaining voice filled the hallway as she breezed in from the local café. I mean, were not even in the stickswere somewhere even worse. Its like the sticks of the sticks.
Ellie, love, Ive told you a hundred times: this is our home, our roots. Im not moving anywhere, her mum replied, sprawled out on the worn sofa, feet propped expertly on a cushion. She dignified this slouch the Churchill stretch.
Oh, here we go againroots, roots. Mum, give it ten more years and your rootsll dry up. Then another creepy crawler will show up youll expect me to start calling Dad.
At that, Mum got up and peered into the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, adjusting her hair. Theres nothing wrong with my foliage, what are you going on about?
Im just saying, theres still some life in it, but keep this up andwell, youll be a turnip, a pumpkin, or a sweet potato soon enough. Your choice, chefs pick.
Ellie, if you want to leave that badly, you go yourself. Youre old enough, its all legal. Why am I in your way?
Mum, its my conscience. If I go off to the bright lights, wholl look after you here?
Theres my insurance, my steady wage, the internet, and Im sure another creepy crawler would crawl in, like you said. Its easier for youyoure young, switched-on, you get all this modern stuff, and teenagers dont drive you mad yet. Im already halfway up the golden staircase.
Oh, come off it! Listen to you! You joke just like my mates. Besides, youre only forty
And now youve gone and said it aloud, just to ruin my day?
Well, if you put it in cat years, youre barely five! Ellie added, quick as a flash.
Forgiven.
Mum, its not too latecome on. Lets jump on a train and disappear. Theres nothing holding us here.
I just got them to write our surname correctly on the council gas bill last month, and were registered with the local GP, Mum said, lobbing her final arguments.
The NHSll take us anywhere, and we dont have to sell the house. If it all goes belly up, we can just come back. Give me a few monthsIll get you out there, show you how to really live.
My sonographer warned me, you know: That girl will never let you rest. I thought he was jokingno wonder he won bronze in Britains Got Psychics. Fine, lets do it. But if it all goes wrong, you promise not to make a scene when I say I want to come back?
On my honour!
Thats what your co-author for my birth promised at the Register Office too, and youve both got the same blood type.
***
Ellie and her mum didnt bother with the nearest citythey headed straight for London. They withdrew every last pound from their three years of savings and splashed out on a poky studio flat on the outskirts, squeezed between a market and the bus depot. Rent paid for four months in advance. Their money ran out before theyd even really started spending.
Ellie was serene, buzzing with energy. She barely bothered unpacking. Instead, she flung herself headlong into London lifeart galleries by day, clubs by night, making friends wherever she went. In no time, she was dressed and talking like a true Londoner, as if shed stepped out of the city smog itself, seasoned with just the right sniff of snobbishness.
Meanwhile, her mum survived on a steady diet of morning Rescue Remedy and evening sleep aids. The first day, despite Ellies encouragement to explore, she was scouring job sites. The capital lured with miraculous jobs and pitiful salaries, each vacancy likely a trap. One quick calculation told her: six months, tops, then home we go.
Ignoring Ellies modern advice, Mum took the familiar routeshe landed a job as the cook at the local private school, and in the evenings washed dishes in a café next door.
Mum, youre strapped to the cooker again. You couldve done that at home! Youll never know what Londons got to offer if you keep this up. Train for something newa designer, a sommelier, even a brow artist. Ride the tube, drink overpriced coffee, adapt!
Ellie, love, Im not ready to retrain, not now. Dont you worry about meIll find my feet. You go sort your own life, like you wanted.
Ellie sighed over her mums stubbornness, but found her own comfort soon enough. Shed made herself at home in cafes where local blokes (all exiles from small towns too) paid for her drinks; she tried to sync her soul with the city, following advice vlogged by a spiritual influencer; she joined circles where everyone gossiped about making it big. Ellie let work and commitment wait. She and London needed time to try each other on for size.
Four months passed. Mum paid the rent herself and quit washing dishesnow she cooked for another branch, as well. Ellie, meanwhile, dropped out of half a dozen online courses, auditioned for a radio job, appeared as an extra in a student film (paid in pasta and tinned stew), and briefly dated two bohemian musicians: one a complete donkey, the other a tomcat with far too many exes and kids.
***
Mum, want to go out tonight? Or shall we order a pizza, watch a film? Im shattered, dont fancy going anywhere, Ellie yawned, curled in her signature Churchill stretch, while her mum was getting ready in front of the mirror.
You go ahead and orderIll ping you the money on your card. Dont get any for me, I doubt Ill be hungry by the time Im back.
Back? Back from where? Ellie sat up, eyeing the back of her mums head suspiciously.
Ive been invited to dinner, Mum said, sheepishly giggling like a schoolgirl.
By who? Ellie didnt like this at all.
There was an inspection at our school the other day. I fed the panel your favourite cottage piethe head of the committee made a joke about meeting the head chef. I laughed, silly really. School’s head chef! Anyway, we went for a coffee, like you suggested. Tonight, Im off to his for dinner.
Are you out of your mind? Dinner? With a stranger? At his place?!
And whats the harm?
Did it not occur to you that hes after something that isnt shepherds pie?
Ellie, Im forty and Im single. Hes forty-five, nice-looking, clever, also single. Frankly, Id welcome anything he might be after.
YouYoure talking like youve got no backbone! As if you havent got any choice!
I dont recognise you. You dragged me here to live, not just exist.
There was no arguing with that. Suddenly, Ellie realised how much theyd swapped places. She ordered the biggest pizza and spent the evening in silent, guilty gluttony. She was still chewing through her feelings when her mum slipped home closer to midnight, glowing so brightly she lit up the hallway without so much as a lamp.
Well? Ellie muttered, arms folded.
Hes a proper gent, definitely localnot a creepy crawler, her mum giggled, heading for a shower.
Mum started going on more datesshe went to the theatre, stand-up comedy, jazz gigs. She got a library card, joined a tea society, registered with the GP. In six months, she enrolled in professional cookery courses and collected certificates. She even learnt to whip up some seriously posh dishes.
Ellie wasnt idle either. Not wanting to mooch off her mum, she tried for high-flying jobs. Each time she applied, they knocked her right down. Unable to land anything fancy, left behind by friends now unwilling to pay for her, Ellie became a barista, then in two months swapped to night barman.
Routine blurred everything, drawing shadows under her eyes, stealing energy and time. Her love life fared no better. The only romance in the bar came from tipsy patrons slurring half-hearted compliments, none remotely close to real love. Soon enough, Ellied had her fill.
You know what, Mum, you were rightthis is pointless. Sorry I brought you here. Lets go home, Ellie blurted one stormy night, barging in after yet another frazzled shift.
What? Go back where? Mum replied, busy packing a suitcase.
Home! Where else? Ellie flung random clothes onto the sofa, pacing the room. Home, where our surnames spelled right on bills, and were booked in with a proper GP. You were spot on all along.
Im registered here now, and Im not going back, Mum calmly replied, peering into Ellies tear-filled eyes.
Well, Im not! I want to go back! I hate the blasted Tube, the coffee costs as much as steak, everyone at the bar is so smug. Ive got friends back home, a roof over my head. Theres nothing for me here. And youre packing too!
Im moving in with Richard, her mum said, almost casually.
What do you meanmoving in with Richard?!
Well, I thought you were settled now, old enough to pay your own rent. Ellie, its a giftI mean it! Youre grown-up, beautiful, employed, living in London. Your opportunities pour out the tap, darling! Mum was beaming. I cant thank you enough for bringing me. If it hadnt been for you, Id still be pining away in that old pit. Here, real lifes bursting out the seams. Thank you! She smothered Ellie in kisses, but Ellie just sat there, stunned.
Mum, but what about me? Whos going to look after me? Ellies voice broke as tears spilled over.
Insurance, steady job, internetand youll find your own gent, I promise, Mum quoted her from that first night.
So, youre abandoning me? Just like that?
Im not abandoning you, but you promised me no drama, remember?
I remember Fine, hand over the house keys.
Theyre in my bag, love. But I have one favour to ask.
What is it?
Your grans planning to move too. Weve sorted it all over the phone. Pop round, help her pack?
Grannys moving here?!
Yep. Sold her on the big city dream, creepy crawlers and all that. Turns out the local post office needs a hand, and you know your granforty years in the Royal Mail, she could get a stamp-less letter to the North Pole, and itd still arrive. Let her have her go toowhile theres still some life left in the old rutabaga.Ellie let out a shaky laugh, half astonishment, half acceptance. For a moment she pictured three generations of their roots tangled up not in country soil, but stretched across Londons stone and skyeach unfurling in their own wild direction. Tears on her cheeks, she laughed again.
Well, if Grannys coming, shes not getting my bed, Ellie sniffed. The two women looked at each otherthe strength in Mums new-found happiness, the truth in Ellies wobbly smile. Something old and stubborn was melting.
Outside, London traffic rumbled beyond their window. The citys endless chorus was no longer a strangers voiceit pulsed and hummed, alive with beginnings, endings, and every stubborn hope in between.
Ellie stood and hugged her mum tight, heart pounding with fear, love, and the dizzying sense of freedom. She knew now: home wasnt the faded street theyd left, or this cramped flat, or even the familiar names on utility bills. Home was what they carried, and what they dared to plant, wherever life scattered them.
Go on, then, Ellie whispered, smiling through her tears. Live. Ill make sure Grans adventure starts with tea and proper scones.
As her mum disappeared into the nightone suitcase, a heart full of brightnessEllie wiped her cheeks, pulled up her sleeves, and welcomed the endless, unruly city anew. She was not alone. There was still work to do. And tomorrow, there would be scones.
