«Not His Problem»
«Tell Christopher to come right away!» My daughter was nearly choking on her words. «All three kids are feverish and cranky. I cant get them to the clinic alone. He needs to drive us!»
Valerie nodded, though Marianne couldnt see her. Her chest tightened with worry for her grandchildren.
«Ill sort it, love. Dont fret,» Valerie said, keeping her voice steady so as not to upset her daughter further.
She ended the call and froze. Her fingers fumbled for her sons number in her contacts. Three sick children, Marianne alone, her husband at workthis was a proper crisis.
Christopher would help. She was sure of it…
First ring. Second. Finally, he answered.
«Mum, hi,» he said briskly.
«Chris, darling, theres a bit of a situation,» Valerie began carefully. «Marianne just rang. All three little ones are poorlythey need to see the doctor. Her husband cant leave work. Could you pop round and take them? Wont take long.»
A tense silence followed. Valerie could hear his breathing and some background noiselaughter, glasses clinking.
«Mum, not today,» Christopher sighed. «Its Emilys birthday. We booked the restaurant weeks ago. Mariannes clear across town, and the traffics horrendous. Wed miss the reservation. So cant do it.»
Valerie gripped the phone tighter. Her palm was damp. Was he seriously refusing?
«Christopher, are you hearing this? The children are ill! Your nieces and nephew!» She fought to keep from shouting. «Marianne cant manage three poorly toddlers alone! They need a doctor!»
«Mum, I get it,» he said flatly. «But weve got plans. We cant drop everything for this. Tell her to call a cab. Or you and Dad help. Whats the issue?»
Valerie sank onto a chair. Her legs gave way. She couldnt believe what she was hearing.
«Dads at work! I cant handle three sick children on my own! Are you being daft?»
«Cant do it. Sorry,» Christopher snapped this time. «Not my problem. The kids are Mariannes responsibility. Shell sort it.»
Valeries breath hitched. Had he really just said that?
«How is it not your problem?!» she shrieked. «Shes your sister! Your family! Cant you help just this once?»
«I said no. Weve got to go. Bye.» The line went dead.
The dial tone buzzed in her ear. Valerie stared at the screen, numb. Her hands trembled. She redialled. Nothing. Again. Silence.
Something hot and furious boiled inside her. How dare he? She called Emilymaybe shed talk sense into him.
«Valerie?» Emily answered promptly.
«Emily, love,» Valerie forced calm into her voice. «Could you ask Christopher to help? These are his nieces and nephew! Theyre ill! Mariannes struggling! You understand, dont you?»
Emily sighed. Her tone was cool, almost bored.
«Valerie, parents handle their own children. There are cabs, theres the NHS. Theyre not babies. Mariannes a grown womanshell manage.»
Valerie went rigid. That stung worse than Christophers refusal.
«Emily, do you have any idea what its like hauling three poorly toddlers in a cab?! Theyre tiny! She cant do it alone!»
«Her kids, Valerie,» Emily said, indifferent. «We planned this night ages ago. Not ruining it over someone elses drama.»
Shock gave way to white-hot rage.
«Then dont come crying when youve kids of your own!» Valerie snarled and slammed the phone down.
The next few days blurred. Valerie didnt call Christopher. He didnt call her. She tried not to dwell on it, but the bitterness gnawed at her, keeping her awake at night.
She lay staring at the ceiling, replaying that wretched conversation. How could he do this? Where had she gone wrong raising him? How had she raised someone so cold?
Her husband tried to talk about it, but she brushed him off. She needed to work it out herself. Understand what had broken.
By the fourth evening, she snapped. She marched to Christophers flat. They needed to talkproperly, face to face. She had to know how he could abandon his own family.
Emily opened the door, eyebrows raised, but stepped aside without a word. Valerie stormed in, still in her coat.
«Wheres Christopher?» she demanded.
«In there,» Emily nodded toward the bedroom.
Valerie shoved the door open. Christopher looked up, and for a second, something flickered in his eyesthen his face went blank.
«Mum? Whats wrong?»
«How could you?!» Her shout made him flinch. Four days of fury erupted. «How could you turn your back on those children?! Your sister?! I didnt raise you to be this selfish!»
Christopher stood slowly. His calm only stoked her anger.
«Mum, you couldve called a cab. Gone yourself. Im not dropping everything every time she snaps her fingers.» He paused, meeting her glare.
«Or did you forget how Marianne cut us off?» he continued. «The rubbish shes been spreading since we bought the flat? Six months of her ignoring us, and now suddenly she needs help?»
Valerie faltered. Her mouth opened, then shut.
«Thatsthats just» she stammered. «Mariannes renting with three kids! You and Emily have a two-bedder, no children! Of course shes upset! I didnt know she wasnt speaking to youwhats she been saying?»
Christopher narrowed his eyes. Emily leaned in the doorway, arms crossed.
«Plenty. About me, about Emily. And the flat? None of her business,» he said coldly. «We earned this place. No handouts. She sorts her own mess. Doesnt drag my family into it through you.»
Valerie stepped closer, fists clenched.
«What rubbish is this?! Shes your sister! Your blood!»
«No, Mum,» Christopher raised his voice. «Emilys my family. Marianne shouldve thought before having three kids. Not my job to fix her life!»
Valerie recoiled.
«You selfish boy! Your sisters drowning, and you wont lift a finger!»
«Help?» Christopher laughed bitterly. «Why would I help someone whos ignored me for half a year? Were done with Marianne. Howd you miss that?»
He took a breath, quieter now:
«But why am I surprised? Youve always put Marianne first. Im just an afterthought.»
«You heartless!» Valerie spun away. She couldnt look at him. «I didnt raise you like this! I taught you to stand by family!»
She fled the flat. On the landing, she stopped, gasping. The cold air outside burned her cheeks but didnt ease the tightness in her chest.
As she walked, one thought pounded in her skull: Where had she failed? How had she raised someone so selfish? Why couldnt he see that family sticks together?
But deep down, in a corner shed ignored, something uneasy stirred. Christophers words about Marianne. About the flat. About his own family. About her always choosing Marianne.
Valerie halted mid-step. Passers-by veered around her. What if he was right? What if shed pushed too hard, blind to his side?
No. She shook her head sharply. She was the mother. She knew best. Always had.
Yet the doubt festered, sharp and growing.
On the bus, she stared blankly out the window. Maybe tomorrow would bring clarity. Maybe shed find the right words. Maybe the family could mend.
Or maybe it was already too late.
