In the dim light of the nursery, Eleanor saw the angry red welts on her daughters legsmarks left by a belt. A cold fury settled in her chest. She gently shifted the children aside and rose to her full height, her hands trembling.
Eleanor had dragged her feet all the way home from work that evening. The bitter autumn wind clawed at the edges of her coat, and the iron-grey sky pressed down like a weight. Yet it wasnt the weather that made her steps slow. An unwelcome visitor had arrived at their home that day.
Earlier, in the midst of an important meeting with a client, William had called:
«Eleanor, dont be cross, but Ive picked Mother up from the station. She missed the children. Shell stay a few days.»
Those words sent a chill through her. Her mother-in-law, Margaret Whitmore, had been nothing but trouble from the start. In ten years of marriage, Eleanor had never managed to find common ground with the woman.
«William, we agreed,» she said, biting back her irritation. «You were meant to warn me beforehand.»
«Sorry, love. She rang out of the bluesaid she needed tests at the hospital in Manchester. Wanted to see the children too. I couldnt very well turn her away.»
Eleanor exhaled sharply. Of course he couldnt. William had always been soft where his mother was concerned, no matter how unreasonable she became.
«Fine. Ill stay late at workthis project must be finished by tomorrow.»
«No need to rush. Mother will watch the children. Shes brought presents, and Ive got to see a clientsome issue with the software.»
So Eleanor delayed her return as long as possible, dreading an evening with the woman who had once thrown her and little Thomas out into the rain, heaping blame upon her for every misfortune under the sun.
Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket. A message from William:
«Still with the client. Running late. Are you home yet?»
She sighed and typed back:
«Nearly there. Ill manage.»
Memories of their early years together flickered through her mind. They had lived in Margarets house thengrand, yet as cold as the woman herself.
Six years earlier.
Young Eleanor stood at the stove, stirring a pot of stew. Upstairs, Thomasbarely five months oldwas crying. She wiped her hands on her apron and turned to go to him when Margaret swept into the kitchen.
«Cant you hear that child wailing?» her mother-in-law snapped.
«I was just going to him,» Eleanor replied, keeping her voice steady.
«Youre always just going,» Margaret scoffed. «Yet nothing ever gets done. My William slept like an angel at that age. Must be your blood showing.»
Eleanor pressed her lips together. Remarks like that had been constant.
Margaret peered into the pot.
«And what is this slop? William wouldnt touch it.»
«Its his favourite,» Eleanor countered. «He asked for it.»
«Nonsense. Im his mother. I know what he likes!»
Margaret seized the pot and emptied it into the sink. Tears stung Eleanors eyes.
«Why did you do that? I spent hours making it!»
«Stop being dramatic. Go to the child. Ill cook a proper meal for my son.»
When William returned that evening, his mother met him in the hall:
«Son, can you believe it? Your wife did nothing all dayleft the baby crying! Thank heavens I was here.»
William sighed.
«Mother, Im sure Eleanor tends to Thomas well.»
«Of course you defend her!» Margaret threw up her hands. «Shes wrapped you around her finger, and you dont care a whit for me anymore!»
With a dramatic sob, she retreated to her room. William gave Eleanor an apologetic look.
«Sorry, love. She means well»
«William, she throws out my cooking,» Eleanor murmured. «She tells Thomas Im a bad mother. Its unbearable.»
«Just hold on a little longer,» he pleaded. «Well move out soon, I promise.»
But the weeks stretched into months, and things only worsened.
A passing car jolted her back to the present. Eleanor quickened her pace. She was nearly home.
Without realising how shed reached the door, she stepped into the lift and pressed her forehead to the cool metal.
«Just a few days,» she whispered. «It will be over soon.»
As the lift doors opened, a sound froze her bloodher daughters desperate sobs. It was little Elizabeth.
She fumbled with the key, hands shaking, until the door finally gave way.
The sight before her turned her veins to ice.
In the sitting room stood Margaret, a belt in her hand, lashing Elizabeth as the girl cowered in the corner. Thomas stood between them, tears streaming down his face.
«Ill teach you to keep your hands off my things!» Margaret snarled, raising the belt again.
Eleanors vision went red.
«What in Gods name are you doing?!» she screamed, rushing forward.
Margaret turned, unrepentant.
«Oh, youve finally decided to show yourself! Your daughter ruined my new handbagcost me a pretty pennyand then she had the cheek to answer back!»
Eleanor gathered her weeping children close.
«You struck my child?! Have you lost your mind?!»
«Dont you tell me how to discipline children!» Margaret snapped. «I raised my son alone, and he turned out well! You could use a bit of correction yourself!»
Examining Elizabeths legs, Eleanor saw the angry red stripes. Something inside her shattered.
She carefully set the children aside and stood tall.
«Get out of my house.»
Margaret gaped, genuinely startled.
«I shant go anywhere! I came to see my son and to raise my grandchildren properly!»
«Mum,» Thomas said in a trembling voice, «Granny hit Lizzie because she spilled tea. Then Lizzie said hitting children was wrong, and Granny got even angrier»
«Quiet!» Margaret barked, but Eleanor stepped between them.
«Dont you dare shout at my son! You struck my daughter. Youd have done the same to him if he hadnt moved away!»
At that moment, the front door opened. William walked in.
«Whats happened here? Why are the children crying?»
Margarets expression shifted instantly. Her eyes welled with tears.
«William, your wife shouted at me! I merely scolded Elizabeth, and she flew into a rage!»
Williams gaze fell on the belt in her hand.
«Mother, whats that?»
«I only took it from your old briefcase meant to polish the buckle»
«Papa!» Elizabeth sobbed. «Granny hit me with that belt because I spilled tea by accident!»
William crouched beside his daughter, stroking her hair.
«Show me where it hurts, poppet»
Seeing the marks, he stood slowly, his usually gentle eyes turning hard.
«Mother, you struck my children?»
He went to the cabinet and opened itinside was a security camera.
«We keep an eye on the children when were out. Ive just seen the recording.»
Margaret paled.
«William, really! You know how much I adore them! It was only a little discipline In my day, all children were raised thusand we turned out well enough!»
«In your day,» he repeated icily, «children shouldnt fear their grandmothers. In your day, adults learned to speak to them, not beat them.»
«This modern coddling is the problem! Children grow up wild! And you, William, are utterly under your wifes thumb! I came to help you! Ive an operation next weekI thought perhaps you might stay with me»
«An operation?» he frowned.
«A serious one,» she sighed dramatically. «The doctors say something must be removed»
«What exactly, Mother?»
«It hardly matters! What matters is I need my son! I thought perhaps you and the children could stay with me for a time? The house is large Eleanor may remain here if she likes.»
William shook his head.
«Mother, is this why you came? To try once more to tear my family apart?»
The doorbell rang. In stepped a silver-haired man with kind eyesEdward Hastings, Eleanors father.
«Good evening,» he said, taking in the scene. «I thought Id check on my grandchildren Whats happened here?»
The children ran to him.
«Grandpa! Granny hit me with a belt!» Elizabeth cried.
«Stay out of this!» Margaret snapped. «This is a family matter!»
«When someone harms my grandchildren,» Edward said firmly, «it becomes my matter too.»
He gestured to the sofa.
«Let us speak like adults. Margaret, do sit down.»
Something in his tone made her comply.
«You know,» he began, «when Eleanor married, I wasnt pleased. I thought William too soft for my strong-willed girl But I gave them a chance, and I saw how deeply they love one another.»
He turned to Margaret.
«And youyou seek to control your sons life, to keep him bound to you. You only drive him further away. Now youve turned the children against you as well.»
«What would you know?!» she flared. «I raised my son alone! My husband died youngeverything fell to me!»
«And you fear being left alone,» he said gently. «Thats why you invented this operation»
Margarets shoulders sagged.
«A minor examination But I am afraid»
«Mother,» William stepped closer. «If you need help, you need only ask. Why lie? Why try to destroy what I hold dear?»
«I didnt mean» she faltered. «Its only when I see you happy without me, it feels as though Im no longer needed»
«Youre my mother,» he said firmly. «Of course I need you. But not like thisangry, dictating my life. I need you as my mother, who respects my choices and loves my children.»
«I dont know how else to be» she whispered.
«Learn,» Edward suggested. «Begin by apologising to the children. Theyll forgive if they see true remorse.»
With visible effort, Margaret met their eyes.
«Forgive your grandmother I I was wrong.»
To everyones surprise, Elizabeth nodded.
«All right but dont do it again. It hurts.»
«I wont,» Margaret promised.
Edward produced a bottle of homemade cider from his bag.
«Now lets have supper together. Ive a treacle tart in the carbaked it specially for the little ones.»
Later, as they gathered at the table, the air remained tense but no longer hostile. Margaret watched silently as Eleanor cut the tart and William made the children laugh.
After supper, Edward made a suggestion.
«Margaret, I think it best you come with me tonight. Ive room at my cottage. No need to rush things here.»
She agreed, surprisingly meek.
As they prepared to leave, Elizabeth tugged her grandmothers sleeve.
«Will you really not be cross anymore?»
«Really.»
«Then will you come to my recital? Im playing the flute at school»
Something flickered in Margarets eyes.
«Thank you If your parents allow it, I should like to come.»
A month passed. The first frosts hardened the ground.
Today was their first proper meeting since the incident. At Edwards suggestion, they gathered at his cottage. Margaret had agreed to terms: no unsolicited advice, no meddling, no criticism of Eleanor.
«Ready?» William squeezed his wifes hand.
«I dont know but Ill try.»
When they arrived, Margaret was already there, dressed simply in a navy frocknone of the flamboyant attire she once used to outshine Eleanor.
Over lunch, they spoke of harmless things. Afterward, Edward took the children to see his stamp collection, leaving the adults alone.
«Ive been seeing a counsellor,» Margaret admitted suddenly. «Edwards suggestion Its helped me understand much.»
She looked at Eleanor.
«Ive behaved abominably all these years What I did to Elizabeth theres no excusing it. I only thought I was losing all that mattered to me. Instead of understanding why, I made it worse.»
For the first time, Eleanor saw not a tyrant, but a lonely woman terrified of abandonment.
«Margaret,» she said slowly, «I cant say alls forgiven but Im willing to try anew. For Williams sake. For the children.»
«Thank you» Margarets eyes glistened. «Thats more than I deserve.»
Elizabeth burst in, clutching a small box.
«Grandpa gave me a lucky shilling! Want to see?»
Margaret took it carefully, as though the girl might snatch it back.
«Its lovely Thank you for showing me.»
As they prepared to leave, Margaret approached Eleanor.
«You know I always thought William had chosen poorly. But now I seeI was wrong. He chose a woman of strength. The sort I wished to be.»
«Youve strength of your own,» Eleanor replied. «Only differently.»
That night, after putting the children to bed, Eleanor stood at the window, watching snowflakes drift past. She didnt know how things would unfold with Margaret. But for the first time in years, she felt hope.
And Margaret, returning home, took out an old photograph album. In a faded picture, young William beamed up at her from her lap.
«Ill try to do better» she vowed. «For my son. For my grandchildren. And perhaps even for myself.»
The road to reconciliation had only just begun. But the hardest stepthe firsthad been taken.
