And where do you think youre going? Veronicas voice was sharp with disapproval.
Eleanor sighed heavily, fastening her bag. Her stomach twisted at her mothers familiar tone, the one that always signalled another interrogation.
To work, Mum, she replied, forcing calm into her voice.
What work? Veronicas voice rose nearly an octave. Your schedules clear todayI remember! Where are you really going? Out with some lad, is it? Ungrateful girl! I raised you, gave you everything, and you lie to my face?
Eleanor turned to face her. Veronica stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
They asked me to cover a shift at the shop. A bit of extra money never hurts, she explained.
Liar! her mother snapped, stepping closer. You think I dont know? Off gallivanting, more like! After all Ive done for you!
Veronicas face flushed crimson. Eleanor met her eyes, and in that gaze was such weariness, such quiet pain, that for a moment, her mother fell silent.
You can come with me if you dont believe me, Eleanor murmured, then walked out without waiting for an answer.
Behind her, Veronica shouted something, but the words were lost.
On the way to work, Eleanors thoughts darted like trapped birds. Twenty-four years old, yet she lived under such scrutiny as if she were twelve. It wasnt right. Other girls her age had flats, careers, sweethearts. And her? She hadnt even made it to university.
The memory stung. Shed dreamt of studying teaching. Passed her exams, even met the grades. But Veronica had thrown such a fitscreaming, weepingthat Eleanor had given in.
What do you need university for? Youll be off goodness knows where, like all those students! And wholl look after me?
So Eleanor had yielded, as always. Her mother had arranged the job at the shop down the road. Five minutes walkno farther.
So Ill know where you are, Veronica had said.
And she checked. Often. Popping in under pretence of buying bread or milk, really just to ensure her daughter was where she ought to be.
But it had begun long before. Eleanor remembered her schooldayshome to school and back, timed to the minute. Two minutes late meant a cross-examination: Where had she been? Who with? Why? Wanting to walk home with classmates? A row. An invitation to a friends birthday? Hours of begging, tears, and always refusal.
Who knows what goes on at those parties, her mother would say.
Eleanor pushed open the shop door. The bell jingled; the scent of fresh bread hung in the air. She changed into her uniform and stepped out onto the floor.
Somehow, shed grown used to it. Day after day, year after year. As she restocked shelves, she overheard her coworkersMolly and Gracechattering about weekend plans.
Were trying that new café Saturday, Molly said. Then the late film!
Brilliant! Grace agreed. Sunday, we could just stroll the park if its nice.
Eleanor turned away. Her own plans? Home. Her mother. Cleaning, cooking, telly under Veronicas watchful eye. Same as always.
Two days passed. Sunday breakfast was silent until Veronica slammed her hand on the table. Eleanor jumped, her spoon clattering.
Whats got into you? You look like youve lost a shilling and found sixpence. Out with it!
Eleanor lifted her gaze. Her heart hammered, mouth dry. The words spilled out:
I want to move out.
The kitchen fell deadly quiet. Veronicas face darkened from pink to scarlet to purple.
Move out? You? she finally hissed. Youd be lost without me! The worlds cruelmen are nothing but liars
Mum, other girls manage
If you dare mention leaving again, Veronica whispered, icy, Ill lock you in this flat. Youll never step outside. Understood?
Eleanor stared. Tears spilled unchecked.
Why? she choked out. Why do this to me?
Veronica leaned back, face twisting with something like triumph.
Why not? I had you for me, didnt I? Not so you could gad about. Youll stay where I can see you.
The words hit like ice water. For her. Not out of love, not for joy. For her. Like a possession. A pet.
Veronica snorted and left.
For two days, Eleanor played the dutiful daughter. No arguments, no resistance. Veronica thawed, smug, certain the lesson had stuck.
But Eleanor had made her choice. Before her next shift, she tucked her passport and meagre savingshidden for months beneath her mattressinto her bag.
After work, she didnt go home. She knocked on the managers office.
Mr. Harris, she said, hands trembling, I need to quit. Today. No notice.
He frowned. Whats happened?
She told himbrieflyof the prison her home had become.
Weve a branch across town, he offered. Same wage. Your mother wont find you so easy.
Grateful, she accepted. Left with a new contract, found a bedsit. Five hundred a monthno luxury, but a start.
At the bus stop, she snapped her SIM card in half. Tomorrow, shed buy a new one. The old number? Only her mother knew it.
A week later, Eleanors tiny roompeeling wallpaper and allfelt like a palace. Here, she woke when she chose, ate what she liked, breathed freely.
Sometimes, her hand still reached for the phone. The habit of accounting for every step ran deep. But she stopped herself. One call, and Veronica would find her, drag her back.
It was frightening. Loneliness crept in, seeding doubt. Then she remembered: I had you for me.
And she knew shed done right.
To stay would have been slow suffocation. Now, she had a chanceto live for herself, not her mothers sickness. It was hard. Unbearably hard.
But there was no other way. She had to live her own life.
