Verity watches the flour scattered across the linoleum, fighting back tears. In the dim glow of the kitchen lamp the white streaks look like odd snowflakes, but she has no time for poetryguests will arrive in an hour and the cake isnt even started.
Making a mess again? Marks voice cuts through the room as he steps in. My mothers coming, and youre as usual.
Verity presses her lips together.
It wasnt on purpose, Mark. The bag ripped.
Everything you have just falls apart breaks, drops, shatters, Mark says, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of sparkling water. Thirtyfive years old and youre still as clumsy as a child.
She begins scooping the flour into a dustpan, swallowing her resentment. Ten years of this life have taught her to swallow her tears.
Im off to meet my mother, Mark glances at his watch. Have the table set by seven. Try not to embarrass yourself tonight, alright? Its her anniversary, after all.
When the door slams shut behind him, Verity sits on a stool and takes a deep breath. She remembers how she met Mark in the library where she worked. He seemed so attentivecoming in daily, borrowing books she recommended, staying late. Then he invited her to the theatre. She felt like the heroine of a romance: a single mother from a previous marriage who had been swept up by a handsome, independent man. Who could have guessed the fairytale would end so swiftly?
Harvey appears in the kitchen like a silent ghost.
Did you get the mail again? he asks, nodding toward the front door.
Stop it, Verity snaps. Youre talking about your stepdad.
The one who treats you like a servant.
Verity has nothing to argue with. At sixteen Harvey sees everything too clearly.
You should be doing your homework, not eavesdropping on adult conversations, she mutters, returning to the cleaning.
Harvey grunts but doesnt argue. Instead he rolls up his sleeves and starts helping.
Mom, we need to talk, he says seriously. I want to apply to a university in London after school. To study computer science.
London? Verity freezes, a dishcloth in her hands. But we agreed on the local college the dorms, the
And Mark, who will keep harassing you whenever it suits him, Harvey interrupts. I cant watch that any longer, Mum.
Harvey, thats adult life. Families have their quirks.
Thats not a family, Verity replies. Its He waves his hand, cuts off the sentence, and stalks out of the kitchen.
By the time the guests arrive, Verity has managed to tidy up, set the table, and even bake an apple tartthe pride of her culinary repertoire. Margaret Hughes, a poised woman in an elegant dress, inspects the spread with a critical eye but says nothing. That feels like a small victory.
Please, sit, Margaret, Verity bustles. Harvey and Victor will be here any minute.
Margaret lowers herself onto a chair, smoothing her silverthreaded hair.
And wheres your boy? she asks, as if referring to a pet.
Harveys in his room; Ill fetch him.
And studying, is it? Whats the point of all that learning? Hell end up just like his father.
Verity holds her tongue. Margaret always disparages her first husband, even though she never met him. Insulting a dead man feels indecent, but she dare not contradict her motherinlaw.
The doorbell rings, sparing Verity from further remarks. Olivia arrives with her husband Victor, a successful businessman whose presence always makes Mark visibly tense.
Happy birthday, Mum! Olivia rushes to embrace Margaret. You look stunning! You could pass for thirty!
Margaret brightens. Olivia always knows the right words.
Verity, Victor kisses Veritys hand, you look lovely. New haircut?
Thanks for noticing, Verity replies, cheeks flushing, catching Marks annoyed glance.
Mark begins pouring champagne, deliberately ignoring Harvey, who stands off to the side.
To the birthday girl! he proclaims. To the most wonderful mother in the world!
And to Grandma! Olivia adds. By the way we have a surprise for you.
What kind of surprise? Margaret asks, wary.
Were expecting a baby! Olivia announces, beaming.
Margarets hands flutter, tears of joy spilling over. Victor smiles broadly. Mark forces a strained grin.
Congratulations, Verity says quietly. Thats wonderful news.
Why dont you have any children yourself? Margaret asks Verity, turning to her. Marks almost forty and has no kids of his ownjust a stepchild in the house.
Silence falls. Verity feels a color rush to her face.
Mom, we talked about this, Mark mutters through clenched teeth.
What did we talk about? That your wife is building a career in a library? Margaret scoffs. All my grandchildrens friends are nannies, and Im left watching your son. If only he were a polite lad
Margaret! Verity cant hold back any longer. Harvey is right here.
So Im lying? Margaret turns to her grandson. Always tucked away in your corner, never saying a word. London, you say? What nonsense?
Verity stares at her son, stunned. How did his grandmother know his plans?
Ill earn my own money, Harvey says calmly. I already have a parttime gig building websites.
What websites? Mark interjects. You should be focusing on your studies, not fiddling with nonsense.
Its not nonsense, its my future profession, Harvey replies firmly. And the pay isnt bad.
Who gave you permission? Mark raises his voice. You live under my roof, you follow my rules!
Your roof, your rules Harvey mutters. Im not even your son, am I? So I dont have to obey.
Marks face reddens.
Thats exactly it! Not my son! Youll never be one!
Mark! Verity shouts. Stop this right now!
What did I say? Mark spreads his arms. Im speaking the truth! Ive fed and clothed you for ten years, and all I get is a thankyouless stare while you stare at your computer. And now you want to run off to London behind my back!
Behind my back? Harvey chuckles. I couldnt care less about your opinion. Youre nothing to me.
Harvey! Verity, desperate, flips between him and Mark. Mark, please, not today. Its Margarets birthday.
No, nows perfect! Mark insists. Ive tolerated your brat for ten years, and now Im supposed to fund his London studies?
Margaret nods approvingly, Olivia and Victor stare at their plates, and Harvey stands pale but composed.
Ill earn it myself, Harvey repeats. I dont need anything from you.
Really? Mark grunts. What about a roof over your head? Food? Clothes? All mine! If you want to keep living like thisno London! Study here, under my eye. Thats my condition.
Verity feels something snap inside her. Ten years of tolerating criticism, neglect, and the pretense of stability have finally broken. Now Mark is dictating terms to her son.
Enough, isnt it? she says softly. Its Margarets birthday, and weve turned this into a circus.
This is your sons doing, Mark retorts. Always because of him. And you keep covering for him! Ungrateful brat and a motherhen. Is that how you want to live on my back?
Verity rises slowly from the table. The room falls into a heavy silence.
Ive worked thirtyfive years in the library, she declares, her voice steady. I hold two degrees. I never asked you to support my sonwe managed before you.
You really think so? Mark sneers. I must have missed something.
Thats because I didnt want to see it, Verity replies. You needed a docile housekeeper, not a wife. I became that, but enough.
What does that mean? Mark asks, frowning.
It means, Verity turns to Harvey, that were leaving.
The room goes dead.
Are you out of your mind? Mark finally snaps. Where are you going?
First to my sisters, Verity says calmly. Then well find a flat. Ill get a better jobmaybe even in London.
Harvey looks at his mother with awe. Hes never seen her like this before.
Thats ridiculous, Mark laughs nervously. Youll starve without me. How will you afford a flat?
Thats no longer my problem, Verity cuts him off. By the way, Im not just a librarian; Im the head of the department. My salary is decent. You never bothered to ask.
Dont even try, Mark snaps. Youll end up penniless.
Victor, Olivias husband interjects, perhaps its time to stop this farce? Its a birthday, not a circus.
Youre meddling, Mark snarls. Stay out of my family business!
What family? Victor replies, shaking his head. The way you treat your wife and stepson is indescribable.
Victor, enough, Olivia tries to calm him, but its too late.
Enough, Olivia, Victor says firmly. Ive stayed silent for ten years watching this nightmare. Its over. Mark, youve become a tyrant. If Verity wants to leave, let her.
Margaret gasps in outrage. How dare you! My son does everything for them, and they
Mom, Olivia gently interrupts. Victors right. Look at whats happening. Its horrible.
Without waiting for more, Verity slips out of the living room, Harvey following. In the bedroom she pulls a suitcase and starts packing the essentials.
Youre serious? Harvey asks, eyes wide.
More than serious, Verity nods. Gather your things. Were leaving.
What about? he falters. We cant just walk out. We need money, a place to stay
I have savings, Verity says, opening a small jewelry box she kept hidden from Mark. Not much, but enough for a start. My sister has an empty room, and I have yousmart, talented, with a future in programming. Well manage.
A knock at the door. Olivia stands there.
Are you really leaving? she asks quietly.
Yes, Verify answers firmly. Weve had enough.
Olivia hesitates, then pulls a wallet from her bag and hands Verity an envelope.
Take this. Its from Victor and me. Weve wanted to help but were afraid Mark would find out.
Olivia, I cant
You can, Olivia cuts in. Youve endured my brothers abuse for ten years, and my mothers meddling too. Accept this. Its not charity; its compensation for the hurt youve endured.
Verity pauses, then takes the envelope.
Thank you, she whispers. And sorry for ruining the celebration.
What celebration? Olivia waves her hand. Maybe now Mark will finally think about his behavior. Though I doubt it.
When Verity and Harvey emerge into the hallway, tension hangs thick. Mark sits scowling, Margaret purses her lips, and Victor watches with a faint smile.
Were leaving, Verity says simply. Thanks for everything, Mark. And sorry if anything went wrong.
Yyou you Mark lunges, but words choke him.
No drama, Victor says, grimacing. Weve had enough. Need a ride?
No, thanks, Verity shakes her head. Well take a taxi.
The door closes behind them. Verity feels a lightness she hasnt known in a decade, as if a heavy backpack has finally been set down. Harvey takes her hand, just as he did when she was a child.
Youre amazing, Mum, he whispers. Im proud of you.
Thanks, love, she smiles. And you know what? London might not be a bad idea after allnew city, new start.
They descend the stairs and step into the courtyard. Early May is blooming, and the scent of hawthorn fills the air.
Veritys phone rings. Its Mark.
Dont answer, Harvey says quickly.
Verity shakes her head and picks up.
Yes, Mark?
Come back right now! I wont let you leave! If you want a troublemaker, take him, but stay here yourself. Thats my condition!
Verity laughs, a sound free and bright after years of silence.
You no longer have the right to set conditions for me, Mark, she says. No conditions. Never again.
She hangs up, steps into the waiting taxi, and watches the car pull away, carrying her toward a new life.
Back on the fourth floor, a furious Mark hurls his phone against the wall, turning to his mother for support. Margaret looks at him with a strange, almost shocked expression.
You really are unbearable, Mark, she finally whispers. How could I have missed it?
She sighs and a tear rolls down her cheeknot of anger, but of regret. For the first time in years she mourns the mistakes that raised a selfish son who cant love. Whether its too late to change, she cannot say.
