«Dont interfere; thats my life,» Kate snapped, her voice edged with hurt. «You spend your days lounging on cushions while I scrape for pennies! Youre a grandmother, a mothercould you ever lend a hand for real?»
The absurdity of the moment was that Kate sat at her mothers kitchen table, a guest in her own home. Margaret Hughes had hurriedly set a modest spread: sliced loaf with homecured ham, thick wedges of cheddar, smoked salmon, and fresh rolls from the corner bakery. A vase of fruitgrapes, pomegranate, mandarinssat nearby. No exotic berries, but the offering was respectable enough for a guest.
Her grandson, little Tom, was perched in the living room in a brandnew onesie, the one Margaret had bought a few days earlier.
«Kate, dont spoil the humour,» Margaret replied, irritation tinging her tone. «I dress your son, drive him to his earlylearning class, even buy his medicines. Hes entirely my responsibility. And you still find it lacking?»
«Well, thats your grandson, isnt it? Who else? Dave and I cant even work out where the next pound will come from. Mortgages, council tax, the nursery, the billsafter it all were left with just enough for bread and a packet of pasta.»
«And what about me? Did I ever pull loans for you? Force you to have children? Did I make you sell the flat? You told me not to stick my nose where it didnt belong, so I kept out. Now youre demanding more?»
«Mother!» Kate huffed. «Just look at how we manage! I cant even do my own manicure because Ive run out of polish. My boots are falling apart; a single splash in a puddle leaves my feet soaked and I end up ill. Dave has only one decent shirt left. Were not living; were surviving. And you think you can step in and raise me! Its easy for you, with salmon for breakfast every day!»
Margaret listened, lips pressed together. She knew she bore some blameher love was perhaps too fierce. Yet no amount of cash could fix the deeper cracks; only the sting of consequence could.
«Kate, havent I already given you enough?» the woman said, narrowing her eyes. «You had everything. You wanted a touchscreen phone when the rest of us were still using button phones you got it. You asked for a mink coat we bought it. I gave you a roof over your head. Youre no longer a little girl; you must fend for yourself now.»
Kate puffed up in wounded pride and turned away, recalling childhood days when a new toy was denied because there was no room left in the house.
Margarets mind drifted back to when Kate, a small girl, would dart about in a glittery tracksuit, her bedroom boasting a brandnew computer and, somewhere in a cupboard, a box with a cameraa New Years present. Kates whims changed as quickly as the pounds value. One day she wanted to be a photographer, the next a hairdresser, then an actress. Margaret could only keep up by opening her purse and signing her up for extra classes.
«Let the girl enjoy herself,» her husband Paul would say with a chuckle.
Paul, a former army officer, was wellrespected in the town and his earnings meant the family never went short. Margaret also worked, though more for the pleasure of it than necessity; she could have stayed at home but preferred to be among people, to feel useful.
One day Kate declared, after seeing a video on YouTube, «I want to try felting!»
So Margaret took her to a craft shop, handed her a basket, and within half an hour it was overflowing with wool. Other parents might have given a bare minimumperhaps a couple of packs of yarn and the most basic needlesbut Margaret believed fiercely that nurturing her daughters talents was sacred. They could afford it, so why not?
Kate clung to each new hobby with enthusiasm, only to abandon it weeks later for something else. It puzzled Margaret, yet she trusted the process: the daughter was merely testing herself. Kate, meanwhile, grew accustomed to having anything she wanted at a snap of her fingers.
When Paul died, Margaret was left alone. Grief sat heavy, but she was assured by the solid ground of his estate. The interest from his savings could have seen her comfortable, yet she kept working until ill health forced her to stop.
Kates conscience was clear. She paid for her daughters studies in Manchester, bought a onebedroom flat in a new development, and oversaw a full refurbishment. Satisfied, Margaret thought she had ticked every box on the «good mother» checklist. «Ive given her everything she needs to start,» she decided. «Ill help while she studies; after that, shell stand on her own.»
But things went awry.
Kate had just begun her second year when she announced she had a boyfriend. Dave also owned an iPhonethough not the newest modeland was penniless, his parents as welloff as theirs. He wore a cheeky grin and seemed utterly unsuited to domestic life.
«Kate, finish your studies first,» Margaret urged after Kate mentioned Dave. «If you want to cohabit, go ahead, but dont rush. Get a qualification, get on your feet, then think about a family.»
«Mother, dont meddle,» Kate replied, frowning. «Its my life.»
Margaret kept her distance, yet Kates life unfolded differently than shed imagined.
At first everything seemed bright. They lived in Kates flat; Margaret paid the council tax and handed pocket money for food and clothes. The young couples only job was to enjoy themselves, bingewatch series, and wander out until dawn.
Dave soon quit university, declaring it pointless.
«I enrolled because my parents wanted me to,» he said. «Now its just a frivolous waste of time. I wont follow that path.»
Later Kate abandoned her studies as well, not for the same reason but because
«Mother, Im pregnant,» she said over the phone one day. «Dave and I have decided. Ill keep the baby, maybe take a break from studies, and see what happens.»
«Kate» Margaret sighed, covering her face with her hand before restraining herself. «Do as you wish, if youre set on it.»
«Will you help us?» Kate asked, hope trembling in her voice.
«Ill help the grandson. Youre both adults now. You have more than I did at your age. Manage yourselves,» Margaret replied, though her heart tightened.
A heavy silence followed.
«Well thats that,» Margaret muttered.
Kate hung up.
There were tantrums, manipulations, careful probing of boundaries. Kate complained of a broken fridge, a wornout parka, low iron levels from poor diet. Margarets only response came to the lastconcern for the babys nutrition while nursing.
«The grandson shouldnt suffer because his parents are fools,» she muttered, shuffling grocery bags.
Then Kate dropped another bombshell.
«Weve decided to sell the flat and move into a twobedroom,» she announced.
«Darling think it through. The baby will still be with you.»
«No, Mother. Weve made up our mind. We want a wedding, a honeymooneverything proper.»
Margaret clenched her teeth but didnt intervene.
Money slipped through their fingers: a wedding banquet, a photographer, the latest iPhones, laptops, a Turkish holiday, a deposit on a mortgage. The young couple even fell into more loans.
Mortgage payments ballooned. Debts multiplied. Soon Kate was complaining that the money ran out before months end.
Margaret continued to supply the grandson with formula, baby food, nappieshed been living with her for the past six months.
«Dave got a job as a camera operator and does courier work on the side. Ill go remote, well pull together. Can you look after little Leo for a while?» Kate asked.
Margaret agreed, but only to a point. The child had everything; the adults could only receive advice, which they were unlikely to heed.
Kate stared out the window, then turned to her mother.
«If you dont help, Ill take Leo away,» she threatened. «And youll never see him again.»
Margaret laughed, though anxiety flickered inside.
«Fine. Lets see how quickly you get the sack and what youll survive on. Do you even have money for the nursery?»
Kates face tightened, her breathing heavy, yet she could not protest. Within days another bill would loom.
«You had everything. Im not to blame for your missteps,» Margaret continued. «And you want to drag Leo and me down with you? No. Youre adults; fend for yourselves.»
Kate left her sandwiches untouched, rose, grabbed her coat, and walked out. Margaret, unsurprised, let the door close.
When the door shut, Margaret slipped into the sitting room. Leo slept on the sofa, clutching a plush owl. She turned off the television so the boy wouldnt wake. For his sake Id move mountains, she thought, but for the two of them let life be their teacher.
