Why on earth do I need such a grandmother?
Youre a fascinating woman! First you invited your grandson over for the whole summer, wed already made the schedule, and now youre telling us dont bring him? What are we supposed to do?
The speakerphone crackled with the daughterinlaws outrage. Eleanor kept the smartphone a short arms length from her ear, so everything came through loud and clear without the speaker.
Imogen, your plans are your problem. You never consulted me, and now
You were the one who begged us to bring Sam to you! Imogen cut her off. Honestly, I dont get you. What kind of grandmother are you? You cant take the boy to your place, you cant drive him to the cottage. You never brought him any berries, you just haul your own boxes everywhere! Why should he have a grandmother like you when theres a perfectly decent one next door?
Eleanor winced, pressed a free hand to her chest and exhaled sharply. She read the subtext: either drag your feet and hand over the lad, or youll never see him again. Lowgrade blackmail. Imogen had a point if you look at the hard facts, but she was turning the whole thing on its head.
It was worth noting that the cottage Eleanor once dreamed of taking Sam to was anything but luxurious. The loo was an outside wooden privy, the shower a summeronly affair, and the gardens berries were more ornamental than edible. A rusty old barbie (the grill) where shed once toasted sausages with her first husband, a couple of plastic chairs and a tablenothing fancy, but to Eleanor it felt homely in the simplest, most English way.
When Andrew, her son, announced he wanted to bring his girlfriend Imogen for a weekend at the cottage, Eleanors nerves kicked into overdrive.
Shed met Imogen only briefly. She was striking, wellkept, selfassured, with a hint of spoiled entitlement. From the moment Imogen stepped into Eleanors house she began inspecting it like a nosy inspector. Eleanor didnt like it, but she obliged and gave the girl a little tour, showing off her collection of porcelain figurines and family photo albums.
Andrew, its a nice idea but are you sure Imogen will like it? You grew up on that cottage. Imogen, I think, isnt used to such rustic charm, Eleanor said cautiously when her son eagerly outlined his weekend plans.
Ill explain everything to her. Shes always said she wants a bit of countryside. Look at this placepure beauty, all hers.
Eleanor sighed but didnt argue. Shed rather they thought she simply didnt want them over.
She spent two whole days prepping: cleaning, baking Victoria sponge, pulling out the special pantry reserves saved for occasionally. Anxiety gnawed at her, but the anticipation of a warm family reunion eclipsed the dread.
From the first minute, things went sideways. Imogen alighted from the car in a white sundress and skyhigh heels, glanced around, and squinted disdainfully. Her face fell instantly.
Is this a loo or what? she asked, poking a finger at the wooden privy.
Well yes. Its outdoors, but its clean, just like proper folks do, Eleanor replied with a strained smile.
Oh, a true communion with nature, then Imogen replied, dripping sarcasm.
What followed was worse.
Its like stepping back into the Stone Age, she complained to Andrew. Did you wash with a bucket as a child? There are more mosquitoes than people; youd better stay in the car! And the smellabsolutely dreadful.
Thats just the neighbours chickens, Andrew shrugged.
Imogens lament was so loud Eleanor could hear every word. She felt utterly embarrassed. She hadnt invited Imogen; shed gone to such lengths, only to be met with a verbal spitintheface.
Maybe shell get used to it, Eleanor thought. Imogen and Andrew lived far awayan hours driveso theyd planned to stay the whole weekend.
But Imogen didnt survive a single day. When a mosquito finally bit her, she swatted furiously and headed back to the car.
Thats it! Either you drive me home, or Im calling a cab. No one can live like this! she snapped at Andrew. Its uninhabitable!
Andrew didnt argue. He hurriedly said goodbye to his mother and clumsily helped Imogen into the car.
I didnt expect it to be this hard for her he muttered, sheepish.
Eleanor tried to chalk it up to unfamiliarity and adjustment. She herself was struggling to fit into this new, rugged lifestyle. Yet she didnt throw a fit or slam doors. That was Andrews choiceto live with this woman or not.
Six years later Imogen and Andrew were married, and they had a son, Sam. Relations with the daughterinlaw remained frosty, but Eleanor still clung to the hope of bonding with her grandson. It wasnt easy; they lived in different towns. Still, where theres a will, theres a way.
Imogen, could you bring Sam over sometime? Eleanor asked one afternoon. Ive got a garden, a river nearby, fresh air. He could get a years worth of vitamins here.
Where exactly? In that sanitary nightmare? Better keep him at home, Imogen sneered. You could just send the vitamins along. You brag about having so many cherries you cant fit them all in the pantry. One trip in the whole summer would be nice, and we could finally meet.
Eleanor felt a sting that couldve made her cry, but she didnt argue. Its a tough sell to a pampered city girl that hauling a crate of cherries in July is a good idea. The neighbours kids get used to the same conditions quickly. All she wanted was a bit of time with her grandson.
That was last year. Then Imogen woke up to the fact that everything had changed dramatically in twelve months.
Eleanors life was now half hospitals, driptowers, and endless GP appointments. The other quarter was strict medical restrictions. Shed just had heart surgery, and the surgeon told her she must avoid heat and heavy lifting.
Take this seriously, the doctor said. Your heart needs a protective bubble. No strenuous activity, just gentle walks.
The worst part was that Andrew never visited, even when she was in the ward. They talked on the phone, and that was it. Eleanor saw her friend Val more often than her own son. Val had actually helped her financially when the cottage became offlimits for health reasons and offered a lifeline:
Listen, I can chat with my mates. They wanted a cheap city break, but the seasides pricey these days. Ill sort something out for you, no thankyou needed. Itll keep you occupied.
Eleanor gratefully accepted; every penny mattered.
Just as she was getting back on her feet, Imogen finally matured enough to discuss plans. When the young couple started to think about a holiday, the cottages filthy reputation suddenly didnt matter.
Imogen, I suggested this a year ago. A year! Plans are great; I had my own for this summer, but life had other ideas. The cottage now has other occupants, I cant go thereyou know I just had an operation.
When was just now? Imogen snapped. Two months ago.
Two monthspeople are training for marathons now! Youve got to get a grip. You can sit at home and be a pensioner, but many of us still have to work.
Cant you take Sam to the cottage? Just bring him to you.
To my flat? From one city block to another? Whats the point?
The point is we could finally have a proper break. Youve never had a day alone with Sam since he was born, yet you kept shouting you wanted to see your grandchild. Here, have a look!
Imogen, are you even listening? A child needs constant attention, and I can barely crawl around the house.
Youre just lazy, admit it, Imogen jabbed.
Eleanor hung up, heart pounding. The argument had become a pointless tugofwar that drained her. She was alone; if she got worse, would Imogen really come over to tend to her? No.
That evening Andrew called, apologising for Imogens behaviour and gently asking if there was any chance he could still bring Sam to stay with his grandmother. The request made Eleanors eyes water like a childs, hurt and humiliation mixing together.
Andrew be honest, did you tell Imogen Id had surgery? she demanded. How did you let her pin the grandchild on me without even asking?
Andrew faltered. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched, choking Eleanor.
Mum I said you were unwell. I didnt know it was that serious.
Unwell, he echoed. I didnt know. The words hit Eleanor like a cold splash. He seemed indifferent to how hard it was for her even to climb a flight of stairs.
Right she managed.
Three days of oppressive silence followed. The house felt empty, as if everyone had forgotten her. Even Andrew stopped texting in the evenings, stopped asking how her day went.
On the fourth day Val called, just in time.
What if we break into your cottage? My folks wont be back until the weekend. Itll be cool, we can have a cuppa, a chat.
Lets do it, Eleanor replied, the catlike ache in her chest finally finding a companion.
They brewed tea, opened a box of Vals homemade scones, and talked. Eleanor poured out everything.
What can I say? You understand. Their lives are their own now. Dont tear yourself apart. Keep your sanity, live as you can. Youve still got me. Maybe youll find an old chap to keep you company, or finally give yourself some peace. Health is precious; dont waste it on their drama.
Val smiled. Exactly. Youve done the right thing. No more bending over backwards for anyone elses whims. Its tough now, the daughterinlaws turned her back, the sons cold as a stone, but life keeps moving, with its ups and downs. Even without them.
Eleanor sighed, moving the scone box a little closer. Pain still lingered, but for the first time she felt she was doing the right thingprotecting herself, not chasing after impossible expectations. And that, perhaps, was enough.
