Margaret paced her cramped flat in Manchester, phone clutched tight, its screen flashing another overdue bill. Her chest achedhow would she feed her family now that her daughter and son-in-law weighed so heavily upon her? It had all begun when her eldest, Emily, just nineteen, announced she was expecting and insisted on marriage.
Before, Margaret had worked alongside a colleague, Beatrice, a sensible woman raising two girls alone: studious Emily at university and little Charlotte, ten, excelling at school. Both were obedient, exemplaryBeatrice took pride in them despite the struggles of single motherhood.
Then in her second year, Emily met her first love, Oliver. He came from another county, but after meeting him, Beatrice approvedhe seemed kind, genuine, not the sort to take advantage. Soon, the pair decided to move in together. To save on rent, they squeezed into Beatrices home. She disliked the hasteEmily was only nineteen, ought to finish her studies firstbut there was no other way.
The three-bedroom house was already cramped, and Olivers arrival worsened it. Beatrice resigned herselfuntil Emily confessed the real reason for their rush: she was pregnant and wanted a wedding. The floor seemed to drop beneath Beatrices feet. Her daughter, barely grown, was to become a mother.
Oliver didnt work. Like Emily, he was a full-time student, neither willing to switch to remote learning. Yet they planned a lavish weddinglike something from a rom-com. They booked Manchesters priciest restaurant, invited half the city, and Emily ordered a designer gown fit for a runway. Beatrice protested, insisting she couldnt afford it, but Emily pressed a hand to her stomach and wept: *”Mum, would you deprive your grandchild?”*
Gritting her teeth, Beatrice paid for everything. She drained her savings, gnawed through her rainy-day fund, even took out a loan. She hoped after the wedding, the pair would grow upfind jobs, stand on their own. But her hopes collapsed like a house of cards. Emily and Oliver stayed put, jobless.
Olivers parents gave them a second-hand car. The couple cruised around as if on holiday, his folks covering petrol since their son was penniless. But the restfood, bills, clothesfell to Beatrice. The pair didnt even know the price of a loaf. When Beatrice mentioned expenses, Emily rolled her eyes: *”Mum, were studyingwhat dyou expect us to do?”*
Emily spared no expense. She showed Beatrice catalogues of prams and cribs, the trendiest, most extravagant models. Margaret, on an average salary, felt the air leave her lungs. *”Emily, I cant afford this! Your student loan, Charlottes needs”* *”Youre joking, right?”* Emily scoffed. *”Youre about to be a grandmotherstop being selfish!”*
A slow fury burned in Beatrice. They chose to have a child, yet she was expected to provide? She carried the whole household, worked herself ragged, and still the money vanished. Emilys student debt loomed like a storm cloud, Charlotte needed attention, and the young couple lived like royalty.
One evening, Beatrice snapped. She returned from work, exhausted, after being scolded for tardinessshed been shopping for everyone. At home, the scene that greeted her turned her blood to ice: Emily and Oliver, giggling, flipping through a baby magazine, eyeing a cot that cost half her wages. Charlotte sat silent in the corner, sketching, while a tower of dirty plates teetered in the sink.
*”Am I meant to wash up after you too?”* Beatrice roared, dropping the bags with a thud.
*”Mum, honestly!”* Emily huffed. *”Were busy with the baby!”*
*”Youre having a baby, yet Im the one paying?”* Beatrice trembled with rage. *”Enough! Get jobs, or get out!”*
Emily burst into tears, Oliver paled, but Beatrice stood firm. She gave them a month to find even part-time work. *”Otherwise, youll live with Olivers parents. Let them keep you.”*
They tried guilt, tearsbut Beatrice no longer bent. She loved her daughter, but understood: without boundaries, theyd bleed her dry. Charlotte, sensing her pain, hugged her one night and whispered: *”Mum, Id never do this to you.”*
Beatrice smiled through her tears. For Charlotte, shed fight on. As for Emily and Oliver? Reality awaited themand Beatrice would no longer be their lifeline.
