Youve lost your mother! Evelyn bellowed, her voice cracking like ice under a moonlit pond.
Forget that you ever had a mother. After youre married, you wont bother me, and youll pretend I never existed, not even a whisper of my name. And I wont hand you a single pound for the wedding. If I didnt pick your bride, I wont foot the bill for this farce.
Oliver felt an odd, blissful lightness as his tiny hands, still chubby with infant clumsiness, wrapped around his mothers cardigan and whispered:
Mum, youre the best in the whole wide world. Ill do everything to keep that smile shining on your face.
His words turned the very air inside Evelyns chest, making it ripple like a pond when a stone drops. She swelled with a proud, almost reverent awe for the goldenhaired, blueeyed angel she had birthed. The boys aristocratic bearingperfect cheekbones, a straight nose, a posture that seemed rehearsed by a noblegave Evelyn a perverse pleasure. When he grew, she began to survey every potential daughterinlaw with the same meticulous eye she once used to choose his crèche toys: pure lineage, wellkept looks, a slender figure, a university degree, impeccable manners, and a respectable job in a lofty office, preferably a senior position with influential acquaintances.
The flat is ready for my boy, she would mutter in a dreamfilled hallway. Now we need a proper lady to keep it immaculate, ready to welcome guests at three in the morning, because thats her duty as a wife and housewife.
Time slipped like sand through an hourglass, but Evelyns demands grew harsher, sharper.
No woman past twentyfive, lest she bear a frail child. And we must be sure any child is truly Olivers.
Evelyn, have a little fear of God, her sisters would hiss. Youll never find a girl who meets your impossible standards. If you want Oliver to marry on time, drop your obsessions, or hell stay a bachelor forever.
Oliver excelled at school and university, landed a wellpaid post in a financial firm, yet his love life stalled. Every time he introduced a potential girlfriend to his mother, Evelyn conjured a thousand reasons to repel her. At each meeting she would command:
Oliver dear, go to the kitchen and slice some fruit while we chat.
The first girl was Emily, a girl from a modest town where her mother kept books, her father stoked furnaces, and two younger brothers chased each other down narrow lanes. Emily worked as a pharmacy assistant, which made Evelyn uneasy.
Ah, so she has constant access to medicines. Might she poison my son? Or me? No, she isnt the sort we need. Her family are labourers; we need refined blood.
Sweetheart, you understand you cant marry Oliver, dont you? Evelyn cooed when she and Emily were alone. Youre far too different. He grew up in a world you could never imagine. Better forget him and find a simpler match.
Emily left without a word, without a goodbye to Oliver. When he asked why, she answered coldly:
Ask your mother, the one who raised you in a gilded cage. She says youre too good for me, and I should look for something more ordinary.
Mother, why did you hurt Emily? I truly liked her, Oliver pleaded.
His mothers voice softened, a slow, heavy sigh. Son, I know best who can make you happy. Not some Emily. Where did you find that rickety thing? No respectable family could be found.
Oliver realized his mother would never be swayed and walked away. He sometimes mentioned a new girlfriend but hesitated to bring her before Evelyn. She would offer to arrange a marriage, but he politely declined:
This is for me and my wife. Ill choose my own partner.
Dont argue with your mother! she snapped.
Later, Oliver decided to move out, taking the flat that Evelyn owned and had been renting out. He and his estranged father, who had left his mother years ago when Oliver was six, finally met again.
My father said he left because Evelyn never let him breathe, constantly monitoring his every step, Oliver recalled. He blamed her for stealing his education, his freedom, and his chance at a normal life. He said he was a beast of burden, used then discarded.
Are you happy now? his father asked, his voice a rusted hinge.
Do you think I am? Oliver replied, wary.
My son, I saved ten years of pennies to buy you a home, gave you the keys, his father said, eyes clouded. I never wanted you to stay with her. She threatened to whisk you away, and I stayed far, watching from a distance.
The words shifted Olivers perception. He began to see Evelyn as the best person he had, and whispered often that he wanted a partner who resembled her in some way. Evelyn smiled condescendingly, knowing he would never find another like herone in a million, perhaps a billion.
After Emily, other introductions came, none satisfying Evelyn. Finally Oliver set a condition:
Either you stop meddling in my life, or I stop speaking to you.
You ungrateful creature, Evelyn roared. Do you remember who bought you a house, who sent you to university? How dare you?
Mother, enough, Oliver begged. I know who really bought that flat. I talked to my father; he told me everything.
Do you believe him? That loser? Evelyn exploded. Not my mother, some fool?
That fool is my father, Oliver answered, his voice echoing in the hallway like a distant train.
Evelyns face turned splotchy, her eyes narrowed, and she shut herself in her room. The next morning she did not come down for breakfast. Oliver knocked, and a furious shout cracked through the door:
Leave me be and crawl back to your worthless dad!
Mother, why? Oliver opened the door, stepping into a room where Evelyn lay on a crumpled bed, hair a wild thicket, dress rumpled, staring at the ceiling as if it held the secrets of the universe. She had always been immaculate, scented with expensive perfume, now she was a ghost of herself.
You know, son, she murmured slowly, marry whomever you wish. Even a man from the islands with a penguins nose and a rhinos horn. Just forget you ever had a mother. I wont give you a penny for the wedding, and I wont arrange your bride.
I understand, Mother, Oliver said with a wry bow, closing the door behind him. That very day he moved into the flat that was now truly his.
Six months later he invited his mother to a restaurant to announce his upcoming marriage.
Who is she? Evelyn asked, tone flat as a stone.
Youll hate her anyway, Oliver replied, icecold. Just so you know, my future wife is called Lucy. Shes twentysix, from a long line of doctors. A proper lady.
Good heavens, where does this confidence come from? Evelyn rolled her eyes, demanding a photo.
Oliver showed her a picture; Evelyn pursed her lips, shook her head disapprovingly.
Is this the future mother of my grandchildren? What a fright!
The girl in the photo had an oriental look, her eyes bright and slightly tilted.
Thats not Lucy. Thats a KoreanBritish mix, isnt it? Oliver explained.
Even better, Evelyn sneered. A bulldogrhino hybrid, exactly.
Shell grow on you once you meet her after the wedding, Oliver smiled.
Evelyns breath caught at his words.
After the wedding? Youre really getting married? Just to spite me?
Why would I do it for spite? For my own joy, Oliver grinned, calling the waitress over.
Evelyn sat frozen, trying to picture grandchildren with such a motherher mind conjuring the most grotesque images.
At the ceremony, Oliver approached his mother, voice firm:
No drama, please. If Lucy leaves because of you, Ill never forgive you.
Evelyn was forced to be as quiet as a whisper beneath a storm, watching the radiant bride beam, the guests laughing, the couple dancing, their eyes sparkling. The next morning the newlyweds arrived with a basket of treats for Evelyn, but she barred them at the door.
So, son, she said, Ive done everything you asked. Now listen to me. Dont bring that halfblood again. Do you understand? You could have a thousand wives, but a mother is only one.
The couple left, and Evelyn flung the gift into the bin.
I wont accept anything from that mixedblood, she muttered angrily.
Soon after, Evelyn fell ill often, and Lucy tended to her, arranging nurses for day and night. Evelyn could not swallow the hatred she felt for the woman who had dared to be compared to her.
You said youd find someone like me. Where is the likeness? Evelyn muttered, forced to swallow her pride as Lucys care became her lifeline.
When the phone rang, Evelyn answered in a melodic tone:
Hello, darling. How are you? My blood pressures doing a little dance. Could you pop over and have a look?
Thus the dream continued, a loop of longing, control, and the strange, shifting tide of family ties that felt as surreal as floating through a foggy London night, where the streetlamps flickered like distant stars and every word echoed in a hall of mirrors.
