Polly had always been a well-behaved child. She did well in school, never caused her mum or gran any real trouble. Then, in her final year of sixth form, she fell in love, and everything changed. Polly started skipping lessons, answering back, wearing too much makeup. Veronica happened to find expensive cosmetics in her daughter’s drawer. She confronted her.
“Someone gave them to me,” Polly said.
“And who’s that generous?” Veronica asked.
“Anthony.”
“Oh? Where does he get his money?” Veronica assumed he was a classmate.
“He’s got a job, actually.”
That’s how Veronica learned her daughter wasn’t just seeing some boy, but a grown man—one who’d finished uni and was already working.
“Do you even realise you’re too young to be dating a proper adult?” Veronica began.
“I’m not too young. You did it—why can’t I?”
Veronica blinked in surprise.
“I never dated a grown— Wait, are you pregnant?”
“Yes, Mum,” Polly blurted, near tears. “You had me at eighteen. Like mother, like daughter, right? You always say I’m just like you,” she added, quieter.
Veronica stared at her in horror.
“Right, I’m off.” Polly pushed past her towards the door.
“Where are you going? We’re not done!” Veronica hurried after her. “What about your homework? Your A-levels are coming up,” she fretted, hovering as Polly tied her trainers.
Polly straightened sharply, blew a strand of hair from her face, and glared defiantly.
“Homework… Seriously, Mum? What about you? Who’s keeping you out late? Think I don’t know?”
Veronica had thought herself so careful—that Polly was too wrapped up in herself to notice anything. But her daughter shot her a triumphant look and stormed out.
“Polly!” Veronica called helplessly at the closed door.
She shuffled back into the living room and sank onto the sofa. Her daughter really had grown up—and so had the problems. Pregnant? Good Lord, it couldn’t be! She should’ve talked to her sooner, but she’d kept thinking of her as a kid. No, it wasn’t too late—she had to do something. And who else could she turn to? Her own mum, of course.
“Mum, what do I do? Polly’s seeing a grown man. She’s pregnant…” Veronica poured out the awful news over the phone.
“You’re not exaggerating?”
“No. She admitted it. I don’t know how to talk to her…”
“She takes after you. You never listened to me either. Should’ve married that… What’s his name?”
“I didn’t love him. This isn’t about me.”
“It is. If you’d married properly, Polly would’ve had a father. She wouldn’t be looking for one now.”
Veronica knew she was right.
“Mum… why didn’t you let me have an abortion?” she asked softly.
“Do you regret having Polly?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“Then there’s your answer. Imagine life without her. Just don’t shout at her or pressure her—you’ll only make it worse.”
They talked for ages. Veronica stayed up, waiting. When Polly finally came home, she knocked on her bedroom door. Polly was pulling off her hoodie, and Veronica’s eyes dropped to her bare stomach. Polly had always been slender, but now her belly looked rounder. So it was true. Veronica’s face burned.
“How far along? Three or four months?” she asked, voice hollow.
Polly flinched, clutching the hoodie to her middle.
“Oh, love…” Veronica moved forward and hugged her. “I’m not angry. I just need to know so I can help.”
Polly looked up, eyes brimming.
“He promised I wouldn’t get pregnant,” she whispered.
“Does he know?”
Polly nodded.
“And what now?”
“I’m sorry, Mum.”
“Don’t cry. How did you even meet? Where does he work?”
“At… Mum, he’s good. We’ll get married after my exams. He’s renting a flat near ours.”
“So he’s not from here?”
“No, graduated from the polytechnic last year.”
“You’re keeping it? What about uni? You’re giving that up?”
“No. I’ll go later…” Polly avoided her eyes.
“Right. It’s late. Get some sleep. Things’ll seem clearer in the morning.” Veronica left, but she couldn’t sleep. Who could, after that?
She kept reliving her own past. In school, she’d fancied a classmate—but they never dated. It just happened. He’d invited a few people over when his parents were away. They drank, danced. Veronica felt ill. He took her to his room, tucked her under a blanket. She fell asleep, then… It was quick, and she’d thought there’d be no consequences. There were.
When she told her mum, she marched to his parents. Of course, they blamed Veronica—she’d seduced their boy, they wouldn’t let her ruin his life… Like mother, like daughter…
“What’s that supposed to mean? My husband died when Polly was three. A heart attack. Maybe teach your son to take responsibility instead of blaming girls,” her mum spat before storming off.
She made Veronica go to uni part-time after school, talked her out of an abortion. It was so hard! For years, Veronica resented her. But Polly grew up, and it all seemed behind her. Now her girl would be a mother herself. Veronica almost laughed—a grandma at thirty-six!
That boy’s parents sent him away to study. Veronica avoided relationships for years, until her boss—a widower—started courting her. He proposed. She didn’t love him, said no, and quit.
Then last year, a handsome younger man joined the office. He flirted relentlessly. Veronica resisted, reminded him of all the pretty girls his age there. She was ten years older, for heaven’s sake—with a grown daughter!
But that didn’t faze him. He was persistent. For six months, they’d met at his place. Sometimes she lost track of time, making excuses to Polly—who, it turned out, had known all along.
Oliver had proposed early on, but Veronica hesitated. She dreaded introducing him to Polly. What if he fancied her instead? She couldn’t survive that betrayal again.
She blamed herself—should’ve spent more time with Polly, not fallen in love… Next day, she tried persuading Polly to terminate.
“Think properly—don’t throw your life away. I’ve been there, it’s hard with a baby. In a few years, you’ll see things differently—even him.”
“Did you regret having me?” Polly suddenly asked.
“At first, yes. Then no. I love you—that’s why I want to protect you.”
Sometimes she caught doubt flickering in Polly’s eyes, but it vanished. Polly snapped that she’d marry Anthony after her A-levels, that her life would be different…
Veronica told Oliver.
“That’s lovely! Once Polly’s married, you can move in with me.” He couldn’t hide his delight.
In August, Polly married Anthony and moved into his rented flat. Veronica still wavered about joining Oliver—until Polly gave her the push.
“Mum, our landlady found out I’m pregnant—she’s kicking us out. Can we stay with you a few days?”
“Of course,” Veronica agreed instantly.
But how would they all live together? She’d be in the way. So she decided to stay with Oliver temporarily.
“Finally! You’re moving in tomorrow,” he cheered.
A solution—but Veronica felt uneasy. She kept waiting for disaster. Still, the newlyweds seemed happy, expecting their baby. Things with Oliver were perfect, too.
Yet weeks passed, and Polly showed no sign of leaving. Veronica didn’t rush them—this was her daughter, after all.
She still doubted Oliver’s feelings. What if he found someone younger? Where would she go? Only to her mum’s. She’d lived alone so long—Oliver hated her distrust. He proposed again; she asked him to wait.
Then at work, Veronica felt ill. She blamed food poisoning, but next day, dizziness and nausea returned. Given recent events, she’d lost track. A pregnancy test showed two lines.
Why surprised? She was with a healthy young man. He’d be thrilled—he’d begged for a baby. But the timing! A son and grandson the same age? Unnatural. She kept quiet, needing time.
Then chaos. Polly gave birth, and Veronica rushed to help. Her girl was still a child herself—clueless, overwhelmed. After work, Veronica raced over, collapsing exhausted at home. Once, she felt faint at Polly’s. Dizzy, struggling to breathe…
Polly panicked—then guessed.
“Mum, are you pregnant? Have you lost it? Planning a baby at your age?”
“What age? I’m only thirty-sixAs Veronica cradled her grandson and watched Oliver play with him, she finally allowed herself to believe that happiness wasn’t too late—for any of them.
