Where do you think youre going? Im asking youwhat are you up to?
My brothers sudden shout ripped me from my morning drowse. I pushed myself up on my elbows in the narrow bed of the guest room, straining to hear what was happening beyond the thin wall. For the past two weeks Id been staying with my older brother, Matthew, while I hunted for work and a flat in London. The move had been a grind, but there was no point staying back home in the Midlandsnothing was opening up there.
A sharp wail erupted from the flat. Fourmonthold Tommy had woken up after a row between his parents. I winced and slipped off the bed, pulling my dressing gown tighter.
Got an interview, whispered Hannah, Matthews wife, from the kitchen.
Interview? Are you out of your mind? Matthew shouted louder. Youve got a baby! What kind of job are you thinking of? Your place is at home with the child!
I waited for Hannahs reply, but the flat fell silent except for Tommys continued cries. Then the front door slammed shut. Hannah had left.
I slipped out of the room and headed for the kitchen. Matthew stood in the middle of it, cradling the screaming infant, his face a mix of anger and helplessness.
Just like that, he muttered when he saw me. She ditches the child and runs off with her own life.
I took Tommy from his arms. The little one gradually settled, burying his cheek against my shoulder. Matthew sank heavily into a chair, running a hand over his face.
Hannahs gone off the deep end, he continued, staring at nothing. How can she leave a baby and still think about a job? At least my holidays started, so I can watch Tommy.
I rocked the baby gently, considering his words.
Matt, maybe you should talk to Hannah calmly, without yelling, I suggested softly. She could be struggling. Postnatal depression isnt uncommon. She might need professional help.
He waved me off as if swatting a fly.
Depression? No way! Hannahs always been a free spirit, a careerchaser. I hoped shed settle down after the baby, become a proper mother. She doesnt seem to be changing a bit. She doesnt give a toss about the child!
I wanted to argue, but I held my tongue. Tommy finally fell asleep, and I laid him gently in the cot.
Hannah didnt return until evening. I was tucking Tommy in when I heard the lock click. She passed the nursery without looking inside. I stepped into the hallway and saw her silently preparing dinner in the kitchen. Matthew sat in the lounge, eyes glued to the television, refusing to speak to his wife.
The atmosphere grew unbearable. I fled to my own room and dialed Mum.
Mum, things are, I whispered into the phone, recounting the days chaos.
Mum sighed heavily on the other end.
Yes, love, Hannahs been like that since the baby arrived. Matthews complained to me more than once. It seems her motherinstinct never woke up. Poor boy, hes suffering. I cant imagine how a child feels with a live motherhe senses everything
I lay in bed for hours, bewildered. I remembered Hannah before she was pregnant: sweet, caring, the sort of woman Matthew adored. Now she was icy toward her own child, toward her husband. Something was terribly wrong.
Hannah was often out of the house, disappearing from morning till night, leaving Matthew alone with the infant. He would take Tommy to the shop, on walks, trying to juggle childcare with chores. I helped where I could, but I knew this couldnt go on forever.
A week later Hannah came home with a bright smile Id never seen on her face.
Ive got a job, she announced at dinner.
Matthew froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, his face turning an angry shade.
Youre kidding! he snapped. You have a fourmonthold! You should be looking after him, not running off to an office!
Its my life, Hannah replied coldly.
Matthew leapt from his seat.
Youre selfish! You only think of yourself! Thats not right! Youre a motheryour place is by the baby!
I watched Hannah withdraw into herself. She stood, left the room, and vanished into the bedroom. We didnt see her again that night.
The next day Matthew and I took Tommy for a stroll in the park. He pushed the pram forward, still griping.
See how she treats him? Hes her own son and she doesnt care. She never picks him up, never kisses or hugs him. What kind of mother is that? Not a mother at alljust a cuckoo!
I stayed silent, unsure what to say. I felt sorry for my brother, yet something inside told me the story wasnt as simple as it seemed.
We got home a couple of hours later. The flat was oddly quiet. I flicked on the hallway light.
Hannah? You home? I called.
Only silence answered. I checked each roomkitchen empty, lounge bare. Matthew, holding Tommy, headed toward the bedroom. I heard him gulp sharply and hurried after him.
He stood before an open wardrobe, half the shelves bare. Hannahs clothes were gone.
Shes left, Matthew breathed, his voice hoarse.
He slumped onto the bed, still cradling his son, his shoulders trembling.
Ungrateful! After everything I gave herthis flat, love, marriage, a child! he shouted. I gave her everything and she just walked away!
I sat beside him, trying to calm him, while a knot of dread tightened in my chest.
Matt, what made her do this? Tell me honestly what happened between you two.
He lifted his bloodshot eyes to me, then fell silent, gathering his thoughts.
The pregnancy was an accident, he finally said. Hannah didnt want a baby. She said she wasnt ready, that she wanted to focus on her career. I pressed her, told her we were both thirtysomething, it was time to settle, have a family. She agreed, but after the birth she never loved him. I hoped motherhood would change her, that shed bond with the child. She just drifted further away.
My eyes widened. The picture Id built of Hannah as a mere temperamental daughterinlaw crumbled. The truth was harsher: shed been pressured into a child she never wanted.
Matt I could only manage a hoarse whisper.
A few days later Matthews holiday ended. He went back to work, effectively handing Tommys care over to me. I didnt mindTommy was innocent in all of this.
A week passed. One morning Matthew burst in, waving a stack of papers.
Shes filed for divorce! he shouted. And she wants to give up parental rights! She said on the phone, If I wanted the child, Ill take care of him myself! I have a job, a flatI can manage. She doesnt want any of it!
I rocked the baby in silence, listening to his tirade. Each day I understood Hannah a little more.
The following week I was practically alone with the infant. Matthew would come home, have dinner, then collapse on the couch. Weekends he napped or watched telly. All other chores fell to me. I began to see why Hannah had fled. Matthew never lifted a finger at home; he only demanded.
Then I got good news: Id been offered a job. I found a modest onebedroom flat near the office. It was time to move out of that house. Matthew didnt take the news well.
Youre abandoning us too! What about Tommy? Wholl look after him? How can you just leave?
I looked at him calmly, knowing my words would hurt but had to be said.
You wanted the child, Matt. Now youre the one who must look after him. Stop shifting the responsibility onto others.
I stood in my new flat, arranging my belongings. The quiet soothed me after weeks of baby cries and Matthews shouts. From a box, I pulled out a photo of us as kids, both grinning. My finger traced the image as I thought about how close people can be and how quickly they can betray. The brother Id idolised turned out to be selfish, breaking his wifes life. And Hannah, once judged by everyone, was merely protecting herself.
I placed the picture on a shelf and turned away. A new life lay aheadmy own life.
