Ruined Children
Youve spoiled him! You always give in to his every wish, and now he completely takes you for granted! Helen, you cant go on like this! Youve absolutely ruined that boy! Just as I ruined you, in my time. Theres no one else to blame! I know, I’m just as bad! You lotall spoilt children! And dont start telling me youre a grown woman now. Youve not changed a bit since childhood! Youve no sense and never make the right decisions! Margaret slammed the fridge door in exasperation, wincing as a photo magnet with Helens family fell to the floor.
The photo had been taken the previous summer at a seaside resortwhere, notably, Margaret hadnt been invited. For years shed holidayed with her children; helping with her grandchildren, relaxing, making useful acquaintances. But this time, not so.
The reasons she was given for being left behind seemed distinctly odd to her.
“Mum, its just difficult for us this year. We’re taking the children on our own. Well get you a package holiday a bit later, and you can have a proper rest too. For now, have a look where youd like to go, alright?”
“But Helen! And the children? Whos going to look after them?”
“Mum, Adams grown up. He can keep an eye on anyone. And Ellie will be with me. We cant afford the hotel we used to go to, so well have to compromise. Ellie needs the seayou know how she never gets ill after a seaside trip. If we dont have enough for the posh hotel with entertainment, well go as independentsrent a flat, do it ourselves.
And, naturally, theres no room for me!
Margaret was not at all pleased by this new prospecttravelling alone to a retirement hotel where the only entertainment was a disco for the over-fifties, and the people a bit lackluster. She much preferred the upmarket hotel, with plenty of foreigners and, mostly, respectable folks. With her education and command of two languages, choosing a destination should have been her decision. But not this time
Mum, you do understand, dont you? A holidays not just the accommodation. Its flights, food, and so on.
As if I eat you out of house and home! snapped Margaret, truly riled now.
For heavens sake, Mum! Why must I explain the obvious? We dont have the money to take everyone, understand? Id love for you to come if it were possiblebut moneys tight. The repairs on your flat, my health problems last year, private lessons for Adamit all cost a fortune. Now we have to economise. What do you want from me? Should I cancel the entire trip? Or at least take the children to the sea? Im shattered, Mum, you know how Ive been living this year! You saw it all!
Yes, I saw plenty! I saw you being a poor mother! You never spend time with your own children! Everythings down to me and Grahams mother. Picking up Ellie from nursery, Adam from school, feeding them, taking them to clubs and practice.
Mum, dont exaggerate! Adam goes to his practices on his own. You only take Ellie to danceand not even every day! And we could have stuck with her afterschool group, but you insisted she needed more. For development!
So now its my fault? Margarets voice rose sharply as she pressed a hand to her chest. Youre both so ungrateful! I try my best, I really do, but its never good enough for you!
Mum, please Helen felt her vision darken and leaned her forehead against the cold windowpane. I really am grateful for everything you do, but please dont throw it back in my face, alright?
But Margaret would hear no more. With wounded dignity, she left her new swimsuit in the middle of the living room and made a great show of feeling wronged.
She was quite the expert when it came to sulking. She could let everyone know exactly whod done what wrong without making a scene or flying into a rage. She simply stopped answering calls, ignored all attempts at making up, and latershould she deign to replywould sigh heavily and weakly murmur:
Helen, what does it mean when your heart stops? When it just barely beats what does that mean?
And Helen would drop everything, dashing out to Margarets little cottage outside town, where Margaret always retreated after a row, to find peace for the soul. Helen would return exhausted, toss her car keys on the hall stand, head to her room, collapse onto her bed fully clothed, and quietly cryunable to fathom why her mother treated her so.
Adam would tiptoe in, gently tuck a blanket round Helen, and touch her on the shoulder.
Mum, leave it. Stop going there. Grandma will sulk, but shell turn up soon enough.
Oh, Adam. If only I could be sure
Helen knew all too well. Shed grown up with her mothers thin-skinned, sharp-tongued ways. Margaretfluent in two languages, well read, a lover of musicbut perfectly capable of castigating her daughter in either English or French. Nothing was more chilling to little Helen than her mothers icy:
Helen, I want you to go and think about your behaviour. Go to your room, sweetheart.
And that affectionate sweetheart never appeared unless Margaret was in an especially good moodwhich was rare. To Margaret, everything and everyone was always found wanting. In her eyes, no one ever measured upher colleagues, friends, relatives, everyone. The list was endless.
For a time, Helen avoided this kind of judgement. As a child, she was the epitome of cleverness and beauty. Helen could read at three, coax music from the piano at fourher curls bent low over the keys of the instrument Margaret had given her.
I can hear the music! shed say.
Margaret had every reason to be proud. Her daughter was obedient, diligent, always eager to pleaseand utterly convinced her mother was the font of all wisdom.
But things went wrong in Year 6, when Helen, typically a star pupil, got a failing mark for a dictation. Margaret, bewildered, clutched her heart and didnt even let Helen speak.
Youve really let me down, sweetheart! How could you? It’s unbelievable! Go to your room!
Helen fled meekly, never getting the chance to explain. It fell to her grandmother, who stumbled upon Helen in tears over the bathroom sink, trying to scrub a stain from her skirt.
What is it, darling?
It was to her grandmother that Helen explained shed got stomach pains in class and been frightened by what followednot knowing what was happening. No one had told Helen what to expect as she grew up. Margaret had decided such things were unnecessary, and Helen had no friends close enough to confide inchosen as they were by her mothers standards, and not the sort, anyway, for such chats.
A conversation between Margaret and her mother-in-law yielded nothing but a lasting migraine for Margaret, and a stern:
Helen should discuss such things with her mother!
But I didnt know…
Next time use your head! Thats what its for!
Helen never quite understood her mothers criticism. But this was the first time her confidence in her mother’s infallibility wavered. Subtly, but that seed of doubt would matter later: that maybe a mother did not always put her childs life ahead of her own.
Further disappointments followed. Margaret, less and less, bothered to hide her annoyance with Helen, her delicate scarf wound tight across her brow against migraines. Whenever Helen spied her mothers fingers brushing that scarf, she braced for trouble.
Arguments never turned into shouts. Margaret would lower herself into her favourite armchair, hand to temple, her frozen tone enough to chill the air.
Helen. Youre destroying me
How, exactly, wasnt explained. Helen was expected to divine it herself. The cause could be anything.
Wanting to carry on the family tradition and become a doctor, for example, when Margaret was certain that was quite unnecessary.
You dont understand! I was married to a surgeon for years, but I could count on my fingers the times we spent together. A surgeons not a job for a woman! Let it go.
But Grandma said saving lives is noble! And that Dad had wanted to be a surgeon even at school
Well, its the result that counts, Helen! What did you get in the end? Me, a widow. You, a child without a father. That job killed him! You must think about others too, not just your ambition!
And so it went. When Helen finally went off to med school, Margaret stopped speaking to her for six months, barely managing a yes or no in the mornings.
Then came the next trial: Helens choice of husband. Margaret disapproved outright.
Im astonished, Helen! Wasnt there anyone more suitable? And I dont just mean financially. Youre nothing alike! Your Graham hasnt even heard of Maugham and wouldnt know an aria from Verdi if it bit him!
Hes a good man, Mum. And, more importantly, he loves me.
Youll see, love alone wont get you far. But youll only understand when its too late.
At Helens wedding, Margaret dabbled her eyes with a lace handkerchief, telling all and sundry:
Theyll struggle, of course. Young, inexperienced! But thats what a mother is forIll be right there to help!
Fortunately, it was at the wedding that Margaret met her second husbandGrahams distant cousin, retired Colonel Peter Fitzgeraldpolished, charming, and fluent in French.
My word, what a delightful accent! Margaret openly flirted, forgetting her handkerchief.
My mother was the daughter of a diplomat. Spent years living in France.
Splendid!
Peter delighted Margaret with French troubadour poetry and owned a well-kept cottage near town, where Margaret found plenty to occupy herself and, for a while, left Helen in peace.
She was truly happy with Peter. He adored her and she blossomed; even softened somewhat. When Adam and then Ellie were born, she was overjoyed.
Helen! What lovely children! Adam is a bright boyjust like his grandfather! And Elliewhat a delight! Got my nose and eyes. Shell be a beauty!
Helen never contradicted. She was glad for the change and wished her mother every happiness.
Much to Margarets disappointment, Helens marriage to Graham flourished. Graham managed to maintain civilized relations with his mother-in-law, holding his own in family debates. He worked long hours, and Margaret was forced to concede Helen hadn’t done too badly after all. She was adamant the couple shouldnt get a mortgage, but Graham insisted.
Its the right thing. Your flat is your home, but we need our own.
But Helen will struggle with work and the kids. You cant do it all yourself!
My companys doing well, so I can manage. Besides, Helen wants to return to work and I wont stop her. My mothers promised to help with the kids.
Ours arent the only grandchildren, Graham! Margaret, chin held high, gave her son-in-law a look shed not used in years. Ill look after them!
Helen’s dream of returning to the operating theatre came true. The children grew, they moved into their new house, life settled down. Then tragedy struck: Peter fell ill, and despite Helens efforts and the best doctors, Margaret was left heartbroken and alone.
Oh, Peter how could you? Margaret wept endlessly. For the first time in ages, I felt like a woman! Did you really have to take that away so soon?
To whom she laid blame this time remained a mystery.
Now, she bought two bunches of white carnationsone for each husbandas she visited their graves, becoming increasingly difficult towards the living.
Helen did all she could to fill her mothers lonelinessholidays, weekends, family occasions, Margaret was always there.
And why not? Im family! Part of it! Margaret would announce, if questioned.
But perhaps Helen wants to spend time alone with her family?” her friends would prod.
Nonsense! Ive never controlled my child! I help. How would Helen cope with two children without me?
Trouble began as Adam got older. Margarets persistent supervision grated on him. He loved her, but her endless nagging irritated him.
Adam! Again with that dreadful racket! How can you listen to that noise? Margaret would barge into Adams room, wincing.
Out came the migraine scarf, but Adam was less susceptible than his mother. He never complained to his parents; instead, he found his own way of dealing with Grandma.
Ellie! Come here! Lets put on some music and dance!
Seeing both children bopping along to some rock band, Margaret was horrified.
Adam, fine. But Ellieits impossible! Im ringing your mother!
Call Dad, Grandma! Mum turns her phone off when shes in the theatre. You know that!
Graham took his mother-in-laws complaints in stride and, in the evenings after driving Margaret back home, would join in singing with Adam, who dreamed that one day it wouldnt just be for family.
Adams musical talents needed an outletand Helen decided to buy him a guitar.
Helen, dont you dare! Youre determined to cast me aside?
Mum, what are you talking about?
I cant bear it! The boy needs to study, not waste time on rubbish!
But Adam is doing brilliantly at schoolyou know that! And since when is music a waste? Youre always saying children need broad development!
I meant something entirely different, and you know it! Oh, Helen, youre again
The argument dragged on for days. Graham sided with Helen; Margaret responded by cutting contact, not answering calls, and even not opening the door when Helen came to check on her. Shed long since taken back her spare keys under the pretext of misplacing her own.
But this time, Margarets tantrum went ignored. Helens patience had run out.
No point pushing, if she wont talk! How many more times! Helen muttered, clumsily washing up on her day off, only for her favourite muga birthday present from Adamto shatter on the floor.
For some reason, those bright shards spelled the last straw in the long tug-of-war between them. Helen still loved her mother, but knew something had to change; love shouldnt mean letting yourself, or your children, be hurt.
Adam! Helen called upstairs, her voice rarely raised.
Coming!
Have you decided on a guitar?
Am I allowed? His eyes sparkled so much Helen had to blink away tears.
You certainly are! Which one do you want?
A bass guitar! Mum, are you sure?
Absolutelyright? Isnt that what youd say?
Yeah! But what will Grandma say?
Shell say were all spoilt children Never mind that! Get ready, were off.
To where?
Where do you thinklets go to that guitar shop! Or wherever you buy them.
One sec! Let me get Ellieshell help me choose!
Watching him dash off, Helen thought: What other teenage boy would take his six-year-old sister shoppingfor advice?
The guitar was bought. Soon Adams room was turned into an amateur studio, the boys from his new band rehearsed regularly, recording with equipment Graham and the other parents had chipped in for. And when their little video of Ellie singing with Adam hit thousands of views on social media, it was clear: their efforts were paying off.
Helen smiled quietly, glad that the kids were happy and Adam was no longer prickly and defensive. Evenings, after days spent healing strangers, she came home to her childrens excited chatternew ideas, plansa sure sign she was doing things right.
Margaret, meanwhile, just waited. She cleaned, cooked, and waited for Helen to appear and, as usual, ask for forgiveness.
But a week went by, then another. Helen did not come.
Margaret was first baffled, then angryvowing this time, Helen would have to do more than simply apologise. Then she started to wonder. Perhaps, for the first time, someone had stood up to her and shown that the world didnt always revolve around her wishes. Had it been anyone else, Margaret would coldly erase them from her life. But with Helen, that was impossible. Despite her nature, she loved her daughter in her own way.
A month, then two
Eventually, Margaret realised no one was coming. No apologies would arrive.
That thought came to her slowly. She really couldnt grasp how Helen could be so heartless. Hadnt Margaret devoted her whole life to Helen and the children? Was their bond so fragilea hastily spoken word could ruin a family?
Tired of pacing her empty home, Margaret finally packed up and went to her cottage, hoping for peace. It didnt work. She wandered around the house and garden, heavy with longing, unable to admit that perhaps she bore responsibility too.
Summer faded to autumn rains. Margaret saw there was simply nothing left to wait for.
The day her heart finally yielded, she was nursing a mug of tea, watching the neighbours children play in their brightly coloured wellies and raincoats. Years ago, shed begged Peter to put in a tall fence; hed refusedthinking the wrought ironwork made by a friend was far prettier. So Margaret just nodded to her neighbours, involuntarily observing life on their side.
The neighbours, both university lecturers, were sorted people. Five well-behaved, clever grandchildren proved it. Seeing the youngest boy jumping puddles, Margaret decided enough was enough. She could sit warming her hands on a cup forever, nurturing her prideuntil, one day, itd be Helen buying the white carnations. What good would that do?
The cup clinked on the saucer. Soon, Margaret was behind the wheel, heading for her daughters house.
On that Sunday, the roads were empty and she reached the village where Helen and Graham lived in good time.
Turning onto their street, she felt unexpectedly nervous. For the first time, she was taking the first step to make peaceto cast pride aside. It was a strange feeling, and for a long while Margaret just sat in the car, considering how to approach them.
But all her plans crumbled as soon as she opened the gate and walked up the path to the house. The door was open; she climbed the steps. Just as she was about to call her daughter, a sudden crash from upstairs made her clap her hands to her ears.
Drums thundered in time with guitars. Margaret saw Helen twirling around the kitchen, a wooden spatula in hand, singing at the top of her lungs about some doll and a wizard.
Brilliant, Mum! Why dont we record a video together? Ellie clapped, abandoning the glasses she was setting at the table.
Helen set down the spatula, poured juice, and held out two glasses to Ellie.
There you go! You bring these two up; Ill take the other two. Lets go! The boys must be thirsty.
Helen headed for the stairs, then stoppedseeing Margaret standing in the doorway.
The moment stretched: time itself seemed to pause, curious as to what these women would say now.
Ellie stopped in the kitchen doorway, opened her mouth, but Helen beat her to it.
Mum! Glad youre here. Can you keep an eye on the roast? Well eat soon. The boys are nearly done rehearsing, then well have lunch. Hungry?
Margaret quietly nodded, slipping off her raincoat.
Yes.
Good! Helen smiled and winked at her daughter. Ellie, unfrozen? Or have you forgotten what Grandma looks like?
Ellie grinned, shook her head.
Nope! Grandma, Ive stopped dance lessons. Mum signed me up at music school instead. Im going to learn singing! Adam says Im ace!
Margaret felt tears threaten and, to hide it, was quick to bend and take the juice.
Ill bring these up! Need to see Adams guitarwhats it like?
Its brilliant! Red! I helped pick it! Come on, Ill show you!
Ellie bounded upstairs. Helen turned to Margaret:
Well? Coming in? The hardest parts doneyou made the first step
And Margaret, with a nod, followed up to Adams room. Adam, just as grown-up as his mother, nodded gravely and showed off the guitar.
And something shifted.
Not everything, of course. No one changes overnight.
Thered be plenty more disagreements and unsaid words. Many a time Helen would sigh, listening to her mothers opinion on things; Margaret would wonder, endlessly, where did I go wrong?
But one thing the family would come to understand for certain: if you want to be heard, you must first learn to listen. Thenthings will fall into place. And your loved ones will remain closeeven if youre all a little bit spoilt. And that, after all, is no small thing.
