«You’re not needed anymore,» the children said before leaving.
«Mum, why do you keep doing this? We agreed!» Emily said sharply, unloading groceries from the bags shed brought for her mother.
«Darling, I just wanted to help. I thought you and Paul might appreciate me knitting little Lily a jumper for winter,» Margaret whispered, her thin fingers fidgeting with the knitting needles by the window.
«Lilys fourteen, Mum. She wont wear a homemade jumperplease understand. She has her own style. Kids these days wear completely different things.»
Margaret sighed and set aside the half-finished pink jumper. Something inside her clenched painfully. Was her gift really that bad? Shed picked a modern pattern, the softest yarn.
«When will you come over for tea? Ill bake an apple piejust how Lily likes it.»
Emily stilled by the fridge before slamming the door harder than necessary.
«Mum, we dont have time for tea. Lilys revising for her GCSEs, Pauls swamped with work, and Im at the office from dawn till dusk. We talked about this last time.»
«Right, of course,» Margaret smoothed a crease on her house dress. «I just thought maybe Sunday?»
«Dont start,» Emily cut in. «Sunday were going to Olivia and Steves cottage. Its Alexs birthdayremember?»
«Alex is sixteen already?» Margaret smiled faintly. «They grow so fast. Will you take me with you?»
Emily frowned as if the suggestion caught her off guard.
«Mum, itll just be the kids. Youd be bored. And the drives too long.»
«I wont mind,» Margaret insisted. «I could bake the cake. Remember how Alex loved my honey cake?»
«Theyve ordered one from the bakery. A modern one with photo icing.»
Margaret nodded and picked up her needles again, hiding her disappointment. The children had grown. The grandchildren too. They had their own liveslives that left less and less room for her.
Emily glanced at her watch. «Ive got to go. The groceries are put away. Dont cook the riceit spikes your blood pressure. And dont forget your pills tonight.»
«Thank you, love,» Margaret hugged her daughter at the door. Emily stiffened, as if the embrace made her uncomfortable, then slipped free quickly.
«Bye, Mum. Ill call next week.»
The door shut. Margaret lingered in the hallway, listening to the fading footsteps. Then she walked back into the silent flatonce full of laughter, now hollow.
She opened the cabinet and pulled out the family album. There was little Steven and Emily, playing in the sandpit. Seaside holidaysback when her husband was alive and theyd saved for that trip to Cornwall. School photos, graduations, weddings and tiny grandchildren in her arms. When Lily was born, Margaret had quit her job early to help. Emily and Paul had been so relieved. Shed looked after Alex too, though Olivia hadnt needed as much help.
The doorbell snapped her from memories. Dorothy from downstairs stood there, arms crossed.
«Maggie, theyve cut the hot water again! No warning! Fancy some tea? Ive got no way to wash up.»
«Of course, come in,» Margaret brightened. «I was going to bake a pie, but well, no one to share it with now.»
«Emily stopped by?» Dorothy shuffled into the kitchen. «Saw her car outside.»
«Just dropped off groceries,» Margaret nodded, fetching cups. «Always in a rush. Says theres never any time.»
«Thats what they all say,» Dorothy waved a hand. «My Robbies always too busyuntil he needs me to babysit his kids for the weekend. You should invite yourself over. Better than moping alone.»
«I tried,» Margaret sighed. «They always have plans.»
«Dont asktell them. Say, Im coming Saturday to see my granddaughter. End of story. They wont turn their own mother away.»
Margaret stayed silent. Dorothy didnt know the last time shed dropped in unannounced, Emily had been so furious she hadnt called for a week. Paul had work guests over, and Margarets pie had ruined everything.
Dorothy poured tea and reached for the biscuit tin.
«Im thinking of spending New Years with my sister in Bath. Warmer there, good company. Whats here? Sitting alone with the telly, no one to toast with.»
«Emily promised to have me over for New Years,» Margaret said quickly. «They always celebrate at home with Steves family.»
«Well, fingers crossed,» Dorothy said, skepticism in her voice. «Theyre all talk, these kids. When it comes to doing, thats another story.»
After Dorothy left, Margaret baked the apple pie anyway. Small, just four slices. One for herself, two wrapped for neighbours she sometimes chatted with by the lifts. The fourth, she saved for tomorrow.
That evening, Steven called.
«Mum, hi. How are you?» His voice was cheerful but distant.
«Fine, love. Emily came by with groceries. Hows Olivia? Hows Alex?»
«All good. Listen, Mum remember that cottage?»
Margaret tensed. The cottage, left by her late husband, was still in her name. A modest place with an old but sturdy house. Theyd spent every summer there as a family. Then the children grew up, her husband passed, and she visited lesstoo hard to maintain alone.
«Yes, I remember,» she said carefully.
«Well, heres the thing. Olivia and I have a chance to build a bigger placesomewhere nicer. But we need the deposit. We thought maybe sell the cottage? You barely go there anyway.»
Margaret gripped the phone, silent. This, she hadnt expected. The cottage was the last piece of her life with George. The porch hed built himself, the apple trees hed planted.
«Steven but its its all we have left of Dad. I thought maybe the grandchildren»
«Mum,» impatience edged his voice. «What grandchildren? Alex wont set foot therehes glued to his console. And the place is falling apart. Better sell now while its worth something. Well give you your share, of course.»
«Ill think about it,» she whispered.
«Mum, theres nothing to think about. Its a good offer. People have already viewed it. Papers need signing tomorrow. Ill pick you up at ten, alright?»
The next day, Steven arrived as promised. Unusually attentive, even helped her with her coat. On the drive to the estate agents, he chatted about their future housethe huge guest room.
«You can visit every weekend, Mum. Gorgeous area, fresh air. Not like that old place by the motorway.»
Margaret nodded along. Deep down, she knew no one would drive her out every weekend. The guest room would stay empty. But she didnt argue. He was so excited.
At the office, she signed the papers. The young agent mumbled about taxes and timelines, but she barely listened. All she saw was their cottages porch where she and George had sat, watching sunsets.
«Sorted,» Steven said brightly as they left. «Moneyll come through soon. Your sharell go straight to your account.»
«Alright, love,» she forced a smile. «Youre not in a rush, are you? Fancy coming back for tea? I baked a pie yesterday.»
Steven checked his watch.
«Cant, Mum. Meeting in half an hour. Rain check?»
He dropped her at the building, waved, and drove off. Margaret climbed the stairs slowly. Mrs. Wilkins from across the hall peered out.
«Margaret, that pie you madedivine! Mind sharing the recipe? My grandkids are visiting this weekend.»
Margaret smiled. At least someone appreciated her cooking.
A few days later, Emily called, breathless.
«Mum, why arent you answering? I tried the landline!»
«I was at the shops, love.»
«Oh. Well, listenbig news! Pauls been offered a three-year contract in Edinburgh. Double the salary, company flat. Were taking it.»
Margaret sank onto a chair, legs weak.
«Edinburgh? But thats so far»
«Only an hour by plane! Well visit for holidays.»
«What about Lily? Her school, her friends»
«Its perfect for her. Theres a grammar school with a science focusshe wants to study medicine. Everythings falling into place.»
«When do you leave?» Margaret fought to keep her voice steady.
«Two weeks. Sorting visas, packing. No time at all! But well stop by before we go.»
The fortnight vanished. Margaret waited, hoping theyd visit as promised. Every morning, she woke thinking today shed see Lily, bake her favourite pie. But the phone stayed silent.
Finally, the day before their flight, the doorbell rang. Emily and Paul stood there. Lily waited in the carheadache, Emily explained. They stayed half an hour, gulping tea, refusing piewatching their weight.
«Mum, we got you a simple mobile,» Emily pulled out a box. «Easy to use. Well call. And here» she handed over a note. «My friends numbersVicky and Sarah. If anything happens, theyll help.»
«But what about Steven»
«Stevens got that new place, remember? He wont be around much. But dont worry, the girls are reliable.»
As they left, Emily hugged her tighter than usual and whispered:
«Just stay well, alright? Itll put our minds at ease.»
That evening, Steven called.
«Mum, how are you? Not ill?»
«Fine, love. Emily made it safely?»
«Yeah, theyre settled. Flat sorted, Lilys in school. All good.»
«Im glad. Why dont you visit? I baked a pie.»
Steven paused.
«Mum, works mad right now. And the new houseyou know how it is.»
«Of course,» she said softly. «But maybe this weekend? Id love to see Alex. Miss him so much.»
«Alex has hockey matches now. And honestly, Mum, visits arent a priority. Well come when things calm down, promise.»
But they never came. The calls grew rarer, shorter. Then came the call Margaret dreaded. Steven said he and Olivia had been offered jobs in London.
«Its an amazing opportunity, Mum. Alex could get into a top uni there.»
«But the house? You just built it.»
«Well rent it out. Or sell. Havent decided.»
«When do you leave?» Her heart pounded in her throat.
«About a month. Sorting paperwork now.»
«Steven will you visit before you go?»
He coughed.
«Mum were swamped with the move. Maybe well pop down from London sometime.»
«Steven,» she gathered her courage. «About that retirement home. I wont go. This is my home. Where I lived with your father, where you grew up.»
«Mum, dont start» his voice hardened. «Were only thinking of you. Youd have meals, nurses, activities. No loneliness.»
«Im not lonely. I have my life here.»
«Fine. Suit yourself.»
He hung up.
On moving day, Steven came alone, just for half an hour. Brought chocolates, kissed her cheek like a stranger. Spoke like he was ticking a box.
«You managing alright, Mum?»
«Managing,» she forced a smile. «Wheres Olivia? Wheres Alex?»
«Home, packing. No time.»
As he left, she realised she might not see him for years. Maybe ever. Her throat tightened.
«Steven,» she called. «Son am I really not needed anymore?»
He turned in the doorway, hesitated. Then, without meeting her eyes:
«Mum, dont be silly. Everyones just busy. You understand.»
«I understand,» she whispered.
He left. She stood there, staring at the empty hallway, then shuffled back inside. The flat was silent. Only the old clock tickedthe one George had loved. Mechanical, hed said. Had a soul.
She picked up the phone and dialled Dorothy.
«Dorothy, remember you mentioned Bath for New Years? Can I come?»
Dorothy sounded surprised but pleased.
«Margaret! Of course! My sisterll be chuffed. Big house, plenty of space. Changed your mind about the kids?»
«Yes,» Margaret exhaled, lighter already. «Thought Id take care of myself for once. Theyve got their own lives.»
«Good on you!» Dorothy cheered. «Youre still youngwhy mope? Come see Bath. When the grandkids are older, theyll come crawling back, youll see.»
«Maybe,» Margaret smiled. But shed decided. No more waiting.
She hung up and went to the window. The first snow was falling. A new winter. A new lifewithout them, perhaps, but not alone.
