“Oh, Lucy, hello! Come to see your mum, have you?” called the neighbour from her balcony.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Thompson. Yes, just popped in to see her.”
“You ought to have a word with her, poor thing,” the woman sighed. “She’s been quite beside herself since the divorce.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy stiffened.
“Well, I suffer from sleeplessness, so I’m often up before dawn. Just the other morning, it couldn’t have been past five, I glanced out and saw a cab pull up—out steps your mother, looking… well, let’s just say not herself. And it seemed she’d had a drop too much. The neighbours are all whispering. At her age! And why on earth did she go and throw your father out? Yes, he stumbled, but who hasn’t? After all those years together—it’s foolish to divorce now.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,” Lucy managed, swallowing hard. “I’ll talk to her.”
With that, she hurried inside. Her mother had indeed sent her father packing six months ago after catching him in an affair. Lucy had begged her to reconsider—these things happen, after all. But her mother had been immovable. Strangest of all, rather than sinking into gloom as expected, she’d thrown herself into life with abandon—new clothes, dancing, nights out with friends, all things unheard of before.
Lucy struggled with it. She herself was soon to be married, planning for children. And here was her mother, out till dawn in some bar? What sort of grandmother would she be? How could she introduce her to the future in-laws if one knitted by the fire while the other caroused in nightclubs?
When Lucy stepped inside, her mother greeted her with a teapot in hand and a bright smile. Gone were the faded dressing-gowns; now she wore a smart beige suit. Manicured, polished, lashes fluttering—clearly, she was relishing her freedom.
“Well, how’s James?” she asked, setting out the cups.
“Fine,” Lucy said carefully. “And you?”
“Oh, splendid! Last night the girls and I made quite a night of it—dancing first, then karaoke. Such fun!”
“Mrs. Thompson’s already told me everything,” Lucy muttered. “That you rolled home at five in the morning, and by the looks of it, drunk.”
Her mother laughed. “What did you expect? People don’t go to bars for tea!”
Lucy’s restraint snapped. “Mum, don’t you think you’re taking it too far?”
“In what way?”
“To put it mildly, you’re not twenty anymore. What’s all this about dancing and clubs? You should be setting an example. You’re practically a grandmother-in-waiting!”
“I’m a woman who’s finally free. And I won’t live by someone else’s script.”
“But you spent all those years with Dad! How can you just erase it all?”
Her mother fell silent, then spoke calmly but firmly. “Your father betrayed me. It wasn’t a mistake—it was a choice. And I refuse to be the household help any longer. I want to live. For myself. I spent years living for the family. Now, no one dictates to me.”
“But you’re nearly fifty!”
“So? I’m not obliged to grow old on schedule.”
Lucy realised she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just worried.”
“If you’re ashamed of me, don’t invite me to the wedding. But know this—I won’t hide my grey hair under a scarf or drown in dowdy dresses. I’ll dance, and perhaps even flirt. I’m happy.”
“No, Mum, of course I want you there. It’s just—”
“Just that Auntie Margaret disapproves? Let her. I’m finally living.”
That evening, Lucy told James everything. “I don’t know how to feel about it.”
He only laughed. “I think your mother’s marvellous. She didn’t crumble—she chose life. It’s no crime to be happy.”
By the weekend, Lucy rang her mother. “Mum, how about a spa day, then cocktails with live music?”
“You won’t be embarrassed?”
“I’ll tell them you’re my older sister,” Lucy teased.
“Done. But don’t expect an early night.”
That day changed everything. For the first time, Lucy saw the strength in her mother—and wondered if she, too, might learn to live not as one should, but as one truly wishes.
