Youve got to help me, Mum, youre my mum!
Charlotte, back again? Valerie sighed, shrugging off her coat as she watched her daughter rummage through the fridge. Why did you even move out if you keep coming back? Maybe it wasnt such a good idea after all
Charlotte spun around, clutching a packet of ham to her chest.
Mum! You scared me half to death, sneaking up like that! she huffed, before flashing an impossibly charming grin. Just popped by to see how youre doing.
Valerie set her shopping bags on the table and gave her daughter a long look. At twenty-four, Charlotte looked every bit the grown woman, but there was still something undeniably childishand a bit helplessin her eyes.
Here to see me, or to raid the fridge? Valerie asked, raising an eyebrow.
Charlotte flushed, staring at the floor. She hesitated, gathering her thoughts, then blurted out in one breath:
Okay, fine. My paycheck vanished suspiciously fast. Ive got a week to go, and the cupboards bare. So yeah.
Valerie suppressed a sigh. Charlotte had rushed into moving out, desperate to prove her independence. But who could stop her? Young people always charge headfirst into freedom without considering the consequences.
No I told you so, please, Charlotte cut in, holding up a hand. I just slightly miscalculated. But its fine! Soon Ill be the one bringing *you* gifts and ordering your online shopping. Promise! Youll see!
Valerie shook her head. Her daughters relentless optimism hadnt faded a bit.
Take what you need, love. Dont worry about it.
She watched as Charlotte efficiently emptied the fridgeham, cheese, cream, vegall disappearing into her oversized tote. Then came the cupboards: pasta, rice, a sack of potatoes from the pantry.
Thisll last me *ages*! Charlotte cheered, planting a loud kiss on her mums cheek. Youre the best!
Valerie walked her to the door, patting her shoulder.
Silence settled over the flat. Valerie leaned against the wall, remembering herself at Charlottes agejob, husband, a toddler in tow. How had she managed it all? Now even a trip to the shops left her exhausted.
Where did my youth go? she muttered, catching her reflection in the hallway mirror. The fine lines at her eyes, the silver streaks in her once-thick chestnut hair. Time was merciless. Her best years had slipped away in a blur of work and raising Charlotte. She had no regrets, but sometimes the weight of it all made her want to howl.
A week later, Valerie rang Charlotte. A mothers worry never slept.
Do you need money? Anything? she asked the moment Charlotte picked up.
A carefree laugh echoed down the line.
Mum, Ive been paid, relax. Im a big girl now!
Big girl, my foot, Valerie grumbled. Who was scavenging my fridge last week? Lottie, listenmaybe you should just move back home? Itd be easier.
Silence. Then a sharp inhale.
Mum, Im *grown*. I *want* my own place. So what if its not perfect yet? Ill figure it out. Why dont you believe in me?
Valerie faltered. She hadnt meant to upset herjust to help.
Sorry, love. I worry. To me, youll always be my little girl.
The call ended awkwardly, leaving a sour aftertaste. Valerie sat clutching her phone, lost in thought. Raising Charlotte had been hardbut letting her go was harder.
Three days later, Valerie returned from her friends later than usual. The moment she stepped inside, she heard clattering in the kitchen. Her heart leapt*burglars?*
But no. It was Charlotte, leaning against the open fridge, devouring a sandwich.
Back already? Just restocking. Paid rent today and realised Im skint till payday. Same old story.
She smiled, but the warmth was gone. Something calculating had crept into her gaze.
Who was it who said they were all grown up and independent? Valerie sighed, sinking into a chair.
Charlotte tossed her hair, stuffing groceries into her bag.
I *am* grown. But youre my mum. That means you *have* to help me. Its your *job* to take care of me. She said it lightly, almost teasingbut something in her tone made Valeries stomach twist.
Fruit, veg, a tub of potato salad, five yoghurtsall vanished into the bag. Valerie watched silently. A *job*? Since when was love an obligation?
Charlottes visits became a routine. New shoes wrecked her budget. Her phone broke. Rent went up. Always a reason to drop by and strip the fridge bare.
Valerie bit her tongue. How could she refuse her own child? But each time, it stung a little more. Charlotte didnt even pretend to visit anymoreno How are you?, no interest in her mums life. Just in, out, and gone.
One evening, Valerie trudged home soaked from the rain. Shucking off her wet coat, she headed to the kitchen.
Right, defrost the chicken, she muttered, yanking open the freezer.
It was empty.
Four shelves, packed that morning with meat, ready meals, and frozen vegnow bare. She flung open the fridge door. A lone jar of horseradish sat on the middle shelfCharlotte *hated* the stuff.
Hands shaking, Valerie dialled her daughter.
Mum, what? Charlotte answered, impatient.
Lottiedid you take *all* the food?
Yep! came the breezy reply. Figured Id save myself the trips. No point wasting time!
Valerie squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. How could she be so thoughtless?
Charlotte, I just got homeI was going to make dinner
Mum, Charlotte cut in, annoyed. Just *go to the shops*. The walkll do you good. Doctors say you need the exercise. Anyway, gotta gobye!
The line went dead. Valerie slumped into a chair, staring at her phone. A bitter ache spread through her chest. Had she become nothing more than a free grocery service?
After that, the raids became predictable. Every fortnight, Valerie would find the fridge stripped. Charlotte didnt even bother with excuses anymore.
Then one night, the sound of shattering glass jolted Valerie awake. She bolted to the kitchenCharlotte knelt on the floor, wiping up spilled horseradish amid broken jar shards.
Even took the stuff you *hate*? Valerie snapped.
Charlotte glared up.
Oh, *Mum*, dont start. Just help me clean this up!
Why didnt you *wake* me? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?
Charlotte flung the cloth down, leaving yellow smears on the tiles. She stood, arms crossedan exact mirror of Valeries own stance when angry.
I *have* a key, remember? This is *my* home too! Why should I *ask* to come over? Or am I just *banned* now?
Valerie shook her head.
Youre welcome anytime. But you dont come to see *me*you come for the fridge. Lottie, Im not made of money. I cant feed both of us, especially when you take *everything*.
Charlotte slammed the fridge door. Fury flashed in her eyes.
You *begrudge* your own daughter *food*? *You* said I could take what I needed!
For an *emergency*! Valeries voice cracked. Not so you could treat my home like a supermarket! I never know if Ill have dinner or go to bed hungry. This isnt *normal*!
Charlotte backed toward the window, avoiding the glass.
You *regret* helping me that first time, dont you? Just admit it! I thought you were my *mum*! Youre *supposed* to help! You *owe* me!
Youre *twenty-four*! Valerie snapped. I dont *owe* you meals! If you cant manage, move back home! Youll pay your waybut at least you wont bleed me dry on rent!
Charlotte froze. Her face twisted with rage.
I *dont* want to live with you! Oliver and I moved in togetherbut I didnt realise hed eat like a *horse*!
Valerie went very still. Her daughter had a *boyfriend*and hadnt even told her. Instead, shed been stealing food to feed him.
And thats *my* problem? Her voice turned icy.
But you *have* to help! Youre my *mum*!
Let *Oliver* raid *his* mothers fridge! Valeries legs gave out; she sank onto a chair. Or get a second job. If two grown adults cant feed themselves, thats *your* issue. Ive *drained* my savingsfor what? To feed your greedy boyfriend?
Charlottes face blotched red.
How *dare* you! Olivers *wonderful*! Youre just a *terrible* mother! A *good* mum would support her daughter, not guilt-trip her over a *loaf of bread*!
Valerie cradled her head. The hurt was suffocating.
Charlotte, leave. Please. Her voice was hollow. For six months, youve seen me as a vending machine. I need time. You lied. You *used* me. Take whatevers left. Consider it a parting gift. And *go*.
She didnt look up as Charlotte stuffed her bag. Only the slam of the front door made her flinch. The kitchen clock ticked mockingly in the silence.
Valerie rose slowly, walking to the window. Somewhere out there, her daughter was heading back to Oliver, her last haul in tow.
Changing the locks tomorrow, she whispered. Time they learned responsibility. Let them live within their means.
She changed the locks. Charlotte didnt call, didnt text. Fine. Better than being a free supermarket for her and Oliver.
A month later, her phone finally rang.
