I was sixtyfive when I finally understood that the worst thing was not ending up alone, but having to beg my own children to call, knowing I was a weight to them.
Mum, hello, I need you urgently.
My sons voice came over the handset as if he were speaking to a petulant clerk rather than to his mother.
Nora Peterson froze, remote still in her grip, the evening news never having been turned on.
Hello, Kieran. Whats up?
Nothing, alls fine, he snapped impatiently. Katherine and I booked a lastminute flight; we leave at first light tomorrow.
Wholl look after the Duke? he asked.
The Duke was a massive, drooling mastiff who filled Noras modest flat more than the old sideboard ever did.
For long? she asked cautiously, already knowing the answer.
About a week, maybe two, if it works out. Mum, who else? Leaving him in a dog hotel would be crueltyhes so delicate.
Nora glanced at her newly reupholstered sofa, the light fabric shed been saving for months, putting off small luxuries. The Duke would tear it to shreds within days.
Kieran, Im not comfortable I just finished the refurbishment.
What refurbishment? You repapered the walls? his tone sharp with irritation. The Duke is wellbehaved; just remember to walk him. Katherines calling, we need to pack. Well have him in an hour.
A few short beeps. He hadnt even asked how she was, nor wished her a happy birthday the week beforeher sixtyfifth.
Shed spent the day waiting for his call, preparing her signature salad, slipping into a new dress. The kids had promised to visit but never did.
Kieran sent a terse text: Mum, happy birthday! Stuck at work. Olivia said nothing.
And today Mum, I need help urgently.
Nora lowered herself slowly onto the sofa. It wasnt the dog or the ruined upholstery that troubled her.
It was that humiliating sense of being a freestanding emergency service, a last resort, a human function. She remembered how, years ago, when the children were small, shed dreamed theyd grow up independent. Now she realised the greater terror was not an empty flat but the heartstopping wait for a call, knowing she was only needed when they demanded something.
She was pleading for their attention, bartering her comfort and selfrespect.
An hour later, there was a knock. Kieran stood in the doorway, leash in hand, the Duke bounding inside, leaving muddy prints on the freshly cleaned floor.
Mum, heres his food, his toys. Remember three walks a day. We must rush, otherwise well miss the plane! he thrust the leash into her hand, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and vanished.
Nora was left in the hallway, the Duke sniffing the arm of a chair. From somewhere deep in the flat came the sound of fabric tearing. She stared at her phone. Could she call her daughter? Olivia, maybe shell understand? Her finger hovered over the screen.
Olivia hadnt called for a month, likely busy with her own life, her own family. For the first time that day, Nora felt something other than the familiar sting of offensean icy, clear, sober realisation. Enough.
Morning broke with the Duke, in a burst of misplaced affection, leaping onto the bed and leaving two dirty paw prints on the white quilt. The new sofa was already shredded in three places, and the beloved ficus shed tended for five years lay on the floor, its leaves nibbled away.
Nora poured herself a measure of valerian from the bottle, dialled Kierans number. He didnt answer straight away. In the background she heard waves and Katherines laughter.
Mum, whats wrong? Everythings great here, the sea is wonderful!
Kieran, the dog is wrecking the flatripping the sofa. I cant handle him.
In what sense? Hes never chewed anything before. Maybe youre keeping him too cooped up? He needs freedom. We just arrived, we want to relax. Just walk him longer, hell settle.
I walked him two hours this morning! He pulled the leash so hard I nearly fell. Please, take him back. Find another place for him.
A silence hung. Then Kierans voice hardened.
Mum, are you serious? Were on the other side of the world. How am I supposed to take him back? You agreed to this. Do you want us to drop everything and fly back because of your whims? Thats selfish, Mum.
The word selfish landed like a slap. She, whod spent her life for them, now called selfish.
Im not being capricious, I
Right, Katherines brought the cocktails. Keep the Duke entertained. Im sure youll get along. Bye.
Another beep. Noras hands trembled as she sat at the kitchen table, the ruin around her feeling almost physical. She decided to phone Olivia, always the more levelheaded.
Hello, Olivia.
Hi, Mum. Something urgent?
Yes. Kieran left his dog with me and flew off. Hes out of control, tearing the furniture. Im afraid hell bite me next.
Olivia sighed heavily.
Mum, he asked for help. It was an emergency. Isnt it hard to help a brother? Were family. Replace the sofa, buy a new one. Kieran will sort it out later, Im sure.
Its not about the sofa! Its the attitude! He just placed me in that spot!
What does he expect? To grovel? Mum, youre retired, you have all the time. Keep the dog, whats the harm? Ive got a meeting, sorry.
The call ended.
Family. A strange word. In her case it meant a group of people who remembered you only when they needed something, and called you selfish if you could not instantly oblige.
That evening the downstairs neighbour, a furious woman, knocked.
Nora! Your dog has been barking for three hours straight! My child cant sleep! If you dont quiet him Ill call the police!
The Duke, standing behind Nora, barked in agreement. She shut the door, looked at the wagging tail waiting for praise, then at the torn sofa, then at her phone, a dull irritation building inside.
She always tried to resolve things kindly, to persuade, to empathise. Yet her logic, her feelings, her arguments fell on the wall of indulgent apathy.
She grabbed the leash.
Come on, Duke, lets have a walk.
She led the dog down the park lane, feeling the tension in her shoulders turn to a dull, throbbing ache. The Duke surged forward, nearly snapping the leash from her weakened grip. Each tug echoed the words of her son and daughter: selfish, too much time, hard to help?
On the path appeared Zinnia Hart, an old colleague, bright scarf, stylish haircut, smiling eyes.
Nora! I barely recognised youstill juggling? Another grandchild? she laughed, pointing at the Duke.
Its Kierans dog, Nora replied flatly.
Ah, of course! Youre our everready rescuer. Im off to Spain next week for a flamenco workshopmy husband finally gave his blessing. When was the last time you rested?
The question hung. Nora could not recall a time when rest meant anything beyond tending the garden, grandchildren, errands.
You look exhausted, Zinnia said sympathetically. You cant keep bearing everything yourself. Let the children manage their own lives. Otherwise youll end up caring for their dogs while life passes you by. Ive got a rehearsal, love.
She vanished, leaving a trail of expensive perfume and hollow echo.
While life passes you by. The phrase struck Nora like a detonator. She stopped abruptly; the Duke stared bewildered. She looked at the huge dog, at her hands gripping the leash, at the grey houses surrounding her.
She realised she could no longer continue, not a day, not an hour. Enough.
She fetched her phone, trembling fingers typing best dog hotel. The first link led to a glossy site showing a spacious enclosure, a pool, a grooming salon, onetoone sessions with a canine trainer, and prices that made her gasp.
She dialled without hesitation.
Good afternoon. Id like to book a room for a dog, two weeks, full board and spa.
She called a taxi right there in the park; the Duke behaved oddly calm, as if he sensed the change. At the hotel the scent was lavender and pricey shampoos, not dog. A smiling young woman in a uniform handed her a contract.
Nora, without blinking, wrote Nora Peterson in the Owner box and Kieran Peterson in the Payer box, paying a deposit from the money shed been saving for a new coat. It was the best investment of her life.
Well send daily photos to the owner, the girl said warmly, taking the leash. Dont worry, your fellow will love it here.
Returning to her quiet, though slightly battered, flat, Nora felt, for the first time in many years, not loneliness but peace. She poured herself a cup of tea, settled on the surviving edge of the sofa and sent two identical messages: one to Kieran, one to Olivia.
Duke is safe. Hes at the hotel. All queries to his owner.
She then turned off her phones ringer.
Three minutes later it buzzedKierans name flashing. She took a sip of tea and did not answer. Another buzz followed, then a message from Olivia: Mum, what does that mean? Call me back ASAP!
She raised the television volume, aware of the storm brewing on the other end. Panic, outrage, attempts to understand how their reliable, everavailable mother could have acted so.
Two days later a persistent knock arrived at the door, almost aggressive.
Nora, unhurried, peeked through the peephole. Kieran and Olivia stood there, suntanned and angry, their holiday clearly ruined.
She opened the door.
Mum, have you lost your mind?! Kieran roared. What hotel? Look at the billdid you see those figures? Youre trying to bankrupt us over a dog?
Good day, children, Nora replied calmly. Come in, take off your shoes, Ill mop the floor.
Her composure stunned them more than any argument. They entered. Kieran glared at the shredded sofa, the overturned flower pot.
This, he said, pointing, is what your wellbehaved dog did.
These are the damages from your dog in my flat, she said, handing him a neatly printed sheet. Ive hired a craftsman, heres the quote for reupholstering and a new ficus.
Youre invoicing me? Kieran gasped, fury rising. You should have watched him!
Should I have? Nora asked, for the first time looking at her son not with love but with cold curiosity.
I owe you nothing, Mother, as you owe us nothing, she continued. I understand youre not here to collect a deposit for the hotel or to cover the losses?
Olivia stepped in, trying to smooth things over.
Mum, why this? Were family. We could have sorted it. Kieran muttered something about always the drama.
Extremes are when a son accuses his mother of selfishness because she wont let their house become a ruin, or when a daughter claims you have a heap of time to serve her brother. Those are merely the consequences of your choices.
Kierans face turned a shade darker.
I wont pay a penny for this! Not for the hotel either!
Fine, Nora said simply. I wasnt surprised. Ill just sell the cottage.
The cottagewhere they had planned barbecues, a sauna, weekend getawayswas now a casualty.
You have no right! Olivia shouted, forgetting diplomacy. Its ours too! We grew up there!
The deeds are in my name, Nora shrugged. And childhood ended, dear.
The money shed saved would just about cover the costs, the moral damage, and perhaps fund a trip to Spain, as Zinnia had promised.
They stared at her as if at a stranger. Before them stood not the meek, obedient mother theyd known, but a woman with a steel spine they had never imagined.
For the first time in years, a tense silence settled over the room. It was the uncomfortable realisation of defeat.
A week later Kieran transferred the exact sum to her accountno apologies, no further calls.
Nora, untroubled, fetched an almostnew suitcase from the attic, dialled Zinnia.
Hello, Zinnia, its Nora. Do you still have a spot for the flamenco class?
