13 March
Ive been up since dawn, the kettle whistling as I rummage through the rucksack for the thing Im sure Ive packed. Edward, are you having a laugh? Ellie snaps, eyes flashing. Off to your mum again? she asks, as if Im about to abandon her in the cold, without light or water.
I tighten my grip on the strap and answer, What do you suggest, Id leave her out there, shivering? I can hear the irritation in my voice. Would you ever do that to your own parents?
Ellies sigh is heavy. My parents dont treat me like that. They know I have a family now and they dont drag me into their dramas. Your mother, she begins, but I cut her off.
Dont be bored, love. You know I have to help, I say, waving a hand.
She nods, though the disappointment is clear. I get it, but it still hurts. Not because the boys will soon forget their fathers name, but because you never try to make her independent.
Its her own kettle, she can heat her own porridge. Choose where your family belongs: the cottage in Yorkshire or here, in the city, I mutter.
Ellie turns and heads for the bedroom. In a halfminute the hallway door clicks shut. I leave. Shes left alone with the children, to whom she promised a family walk in the park later that day.
Now the dad has once more vanished from the household, and everything falls back on Ellie.
Two years ago things were different. Ellie remembers that day clearly. They had driven down to her parents farmhouse in the Cotswolds, bringing along her motherinlaw, Olive Hart, so she wouldnt be bored alone. Olive got on with the inlaws, so there were no objections.
While they were sipping tea and nibbling biscuits under the grapevine trellis, Olives voice drifted up with a brilliant idea that would turn Ellies life upside down.
Oh, how lovely it is here! she sighed, breathing in deeply. I must move into a private house. At my age, peace, quiet and fresh air sound perfect.
Ellie’s mother only smiled. At first she thought Olive was just daydreaming.
It’s nice to be a guest, the matchmaker interjected. But without a husband youre just a housewife. This isnt a holiday resort; theres always something to fix or mend. Olive, no offence, but youre not built for a house of your own.
Olive pursed her lips, though there was little to be offended about. She didnt seem lazy, but chronic fatigue clung to her even when she did nothing.
Im not going to run a farm or tend greenhouses. There are chickens and pigs here, but Ill be content with a few flowers and trees.
Just sitting in the shade watching the beauty, right? The grandchildren will love it. Ill buy them an inflatable pool, let them run on the grass instead of choking on diesel fumes.
Ellie’s mum replied gently, Flowers and trees need care too. Youll be in a flat, where theres hardly any work. Dust once a week, mop the floor every other day, vacuum, then rest.
The fatherinlaw snorted, Do you think we keep a farm out of love for labour? Talk is cheap; a house is a bottomless barrel.
He went on, Today the boiler blew, tomorrow the roof, the day after that the fence. All need money, and thats where were always scrambling.
Olive, stubborn as ever, said, Well manage. Im not alone, casting a glance at me.
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Influencing Olives mind was harder than convincing a starving goose not to eat cabbage.
That afternoon Olive stopped arguing with the inlaws, smiling mysteriously like the Mona Lisa. Six months later she proudly showed off her new home, breathing in the scent of neighbours roses. The house was decent, comfortable.
See? I told you, she declared. Im in your town now, not a foot out of it!
But happiness was shortlived. First Olive asked her son for help with cosmetic repairs. The work stretched half a year because I only visited on weekends.
I grumbled but endured. I believed the renovation would end and life would return to its old rhythm. When the paint on the fence finally dried and fresh wallpaper covered the walls, the todo list only grew.
The electricity went off for nearly two days. The house lost both light and water. I drove to my mothers, desperate, with bottled water and a roll of Valcora to soothe her nerves.
All the chores are piling up! No aircon, no shower absolute nightmare. Im not living, Im surviving, Olive lamented.
Then Olive cradled a stray dog, claiming it for a short spell. It turned out the dog had kidney problems. The village had no vet, so we had to cart the animal to the city naturally, I was the one to drive.
Nothing we can do, the pups ill At least we have a guard dog now, Olive muttered, trying to comfort the animal.
Later I had to clean the cars interior because the guard was shaking it badly. The dog needed special food, but there were no pet shops or deliveries in the village. I became the courier.
I wont abandon you with a sick animal, I told my wife when she started accusing me. You know how softhearted she is. Shell blame herself later.
She replied, Softhearted, indeed. The dog gets sympathy, but people get the short end of the stick.
I spent every weekend with my mother, and sometimes, after work, Id pop over to Olives house for an overnight stay.
Ill be there later; youll be asleep anyway, Id excuse myself. That way I can get up early and head straight to work.
Ellie waited for the pressure to lift, but it never did. Olives roof leaked, the septic tank clogged, snow fell, grass grew She refused to look after the house herself, even to call a tradesman.
What if its a scam? What if thieves strip the place of everything? she fretted. Edward, men are feared. Help me find a decent bloke and stay with us.
Ellies patience snapped when another power cut left Olive in the dark, this time late autumn. It was brief, but enough to send Olive into a panic.
Ill go tomorrow and buy my mum a generator, I told Ellie in a matteroffact tone.
She narrowed her eyes. From our pocket? she asked, knowing it wasnt cheap.
Right. You know my mums under a lot of strain. Shes spent almost everything from the sale of her flat, living on a single pension now, I shrugged.
Great. So now were funding her dream house as well? Ellie retorted. Isnt that too many wishes for your mum?
I waved my hand. Ellie, stop. Theyre already struggling with the lights. Do you want her to freeze?
She rolled her eyes, swallowing the bitterness once more.
Now I sit alone in our bedroom, pondering divorce. Were living decently, arent we? I think. Divorce is too extreme. I need another solution, lest I go mad from exhaustion.
A plan formed.
A week later I rose early, dressed quietly, and was about to slip out when I stirred.
Youre up early? I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
To my parents, Ellie answered calmly, checking herself in the mirror.
You mean today? I promised my mum Id prune the hedges.
You never consulted me. I have my own parents, too, and they need help.
But yours have two!
Age doesnt cancel obligations. From now on, one weekend Ill devote to your mum, the next to mine. I stepped toward the hallway, pausing.
Right, I forgot the list on the fridge. Dont forget the kids homework, and make them pizza for lunch they asked.
She left, the weight of his glance heavy behind her, never turning back. On the way to my parents house, I caught myself not hurrying over urgent matters, just drifting.
Helping my parents was mostly symbolic. I cleaned the upstairs bathroom, then rested. I read a book on the garden swing, recalled funny childhood lunches, and lounged lazily on the bed, finally eating without the frantic Mumma! that used to chase me.
There may never be a perfect solution. Olive might never sell the house, and she may never resolve the repairs without my sons help.
But now I have a slice of personal space I wont surrender small, perhaps, but a victory for my own sanity.
Lesson: When you try to carry everyones burdens, you lose yourself. Setting clear boundaries protects both the heart and the home.
