**Diary Entry 18th March**
I never expected her to barge in like that. «You dont get to decide where my son lives,» my ex-wife snapped as she stepped over the threshold.
«Dad, whens Mum coming?» Oliver asked, pushing aside his maths workbook.
I looked up from the newspaper. Hes only eight, but sometimes, theres a quiet sadness in his eyes that no child should carry.
«I dont know, mate. She said shed visit this weekend, but its only Wednesday.»
«But will she really come? Last time she promised, then rang to say she had important things to do.»
I sighed. How do you explain to a boy that his mother lives in another city now, with another man, and that to her, hes become little more than an obligation? Once a month, she breezes inbuys him a toy, takes him to a café, then vanishes again.
«Shell come, Ollie. She will.»
«Okay.» He picked up his book again. «Can I watch cartoons tonight?»
«Finish your homework first.»
I tried to read the paper, but my thoughts kept circling the same drain. Three years since the divorce, and I still havent got my life together. Work, home, Olliea never-ending loop. My mates keep telling me to find a woman, start fresh. But how do you let someone in when your kid still waits for his mum?
By the time Ollie shut his books, the sky outside had darkened.
«Dad, whats for dinner tomorrow?»
«Spaghetti bolognese. Your favourite.»
«Yeah!» He grinned. «And salad?»
«Sure. Cucumber and tomato.»
We moved to the kitchen. As I pulled ingredients from the fridge, Ollie perched on a stool, swinging his legs and chattering about school.
«Tom Harris fell in PE todayblood everywhere! Miss Baker took him to the nurse.»
«Nothing serious, I hope?»
«Nah, just a plaster. Dad why do Toms parents come to meetings together, but its always just you?»
The knife stilled in my hand. Half a cucumber lay sliced on the board.
«Well Mum and I have different jobs, different schedules.»
«Oh.» He nodded, unconvinced.
After dinner, he washed up without fuss. I tidied the kitchen, made tea. The flat was quiet except for the telly, volume turned low.
The next day at work, my colleague Mark brought it up again.
«Come on, James. What kind of mother walks away? Popping in once a month doesnt count. Oliver adores youthats what matters.»
«You dont get it. Theres no time for anything else. School runs, homework, bedtime stories. Weekends are laundry, shopping, cleaning.»
«Find a woman wholl share the load! A good one. Oliver could use a stepmum.»
«And if he doesnt like her? If his mum comes back and kicks off?»
«Shes not coming back,» Mark scoffed. «If she wanted to, shed have done it by now.»
I didnt answer. Deep down, I knew he was right. Admitting it just hurt too much.
That evening, while Ollie did his homework, the doorbell rang. I checked the peepholeand froze. There stood Emma, my ex-wife.
«Hi,» she said when I opened the door. «Can I come in?»
«Course. Oliver! Mums here!»
He tore out of his room and hurled himself at her. She hugged him stiffly, like shed forgotten how.
«Youve grown so much!»
«Mum, are you staying long? Did you bring me anything?»
«Of course. But first, I need to talk to Dad.»
He nodded and scampered off. Emma settled on the sofa. I stayed standing.
«Tea?»
«Please.»
In the kitchen, my hands shook as I filled the kettle. When I returned, she looked polishednew haircut, designer clothes. Life in Manchester clearly suited her.
«Howve you been?» I asked.
«Good. Great job, decent salary. You?»
«Fine. Olivers doing well at school.»
She sipped her tea, then straightened.
«James I came to tell you something. Robert and I are getting married.»
«Congratulations.»
«And I want Oliver to live with me.»
The room tilted. The mug trembled in my grip.
«What?»
«I want custody. Im stable nowgood job, Roberts happy to have him. Youre always at work; hes alone half the time.»
«Emma, have you lost it? This is his home. His school, his friends»
«Im his mother!»
«Really? Because mothers are there when their kids are ill. They help with homework, take them to the dentist. What have you done?»
«I was building a life!»
«Right. And who built Olivers?»
She flinched. «Keep your voice down.»
«Why now? Why suddenly do you want him?»
Emma turned to the window.
«Robert wants kids. I cant have more. So we thought Oliver could adjust.»
«So thats it. You need a child for your new husband, and now you remember youve got one.»
«Dont be cruel. I miss him.»
«You miss him? You forgot his birthday last year!»
«I was busy»
«Enough.» I cut her off. «Everyone was busy. Oliver grew up without you. Now you waltz back in and make demands?»
Footsteps padded down the hall. Oliver peered in.
«Mum, can we go out? Like to the cinema?»
Emmas smile was brittle.
«Of course, sweetheart. Just let us finish talking.»
When he left, she stood.
«James, Ive made up my mind. Ill go to court if I must. Ive got the means nowwhat do you have? A rented flat, an average salary»
«Ive got love for my son. Do you?»
Her face crumpled. «Ill let you think until tomorrow.»
As she left, Oliver blinked up at me.
«Dad why was Mum upset?»
«Just grown-up stuff, mate.»
That night, I barely slept. What would I say tomorrow? That Id fight for him? Could I afford a solicitor?
At breakfast, Ollie eyed me.
«Dad if I lived with Mum, would you be sad?»
I knelt to meet his gaze.
«No ones taking you anywhere. Were family, understand?»
«Yeah.» He smiled. «But Mums family too, right?»
«She is. Just further away.»
At school, his teacher praised himbright, well-behaved. «Though he does seem down sometimes,» she added gently. «Probably misses his mum.»
Later, Emma returned. Ollie ran to her, but she held him at arms length.
«Sweetheart, go to your room. We need to talk.»
When we were alone, she folded her arms.
«Well?»
«He stays with me.»
«James, think about whats best for him! I can give him more.»
«And can you give him more love?»
Her breath hitched.
«Then why didnt you show it for three years?»
Silence. Then, quietly:
«I dont know. I thought I wanted this but what if Im no good at it?»
Oliver chose that moment to wander in.
«Ollie,» I said, «Mum wants you to live with her. What do you think?»
He glanced between us.
«Is it far?»
«Very,» Emma admitted. «But our house is lovelyyoud have your own room.»
«Ive got one here.»
«Its better there.»
«Would Dad come?»
«No. Hed stay here.»
Oliver shook his head.
«I dont want to leave Dad. He helps me with maths, reads me stories.»
«Ill do all that!»
«Do you know how to play chess? Fix my bike?»
Emma faltered. «Ill learn.»
«No thanks.» He crossed his arms. «I want to live with Dad.»
«Youve turned him against me!» she hissed.
«Dad never said anything bad about you!» Oliver protested. «He says youre just busy.»
Emma sank onto the sofa, tears spilling.
«I thought hed want to come.»
«Do you want him?» I asked softly. «Or does Robert just want a ready-made child?»
She wiped her face.
«I dont know. Im scared Ill mess up.»
«Mum I already love you,» Oliver said. «I just want to stay here.»
In the end, she left with a promise to visit more.
A month later, at the park, I met a womanAnnawith her daughter, Lily. Single mum. We talked while the kids played.
«Dad,» Oliver whispered later, «Lilys nice. Can we see them again?»
«Sure.»
Maybe Mark was right. Life goes on. And seeing Olivers smile as he talked about his new friendthats all that matters.
