The roar of the Jaguars engine faded into the trees, and the silence settled over me like a thick winter coat. I stood there, clutching my handbag, knees trembling, every breath sharp as glass. The air smelled of damp earth, moss, and rotting leaves. The birds had gone quiet. Even the forest seemed to know something was terribly wrong.
I didnt shout after him. The tears that hadnt come at the funeral now spilled freelynot from grief, but humiliation. The crushing realisation that my own blood, my son, had tossed me aside like an old armchair.
I sank onto a fallen log, trying to gather my thoughts. The sun dipped low, painting the world in gold, shadows stretching long. All I heard was my own heartbeat. I knewif I stayed here, Id die. But I refused to give him that satisfaction.
From my bag, I pulled out a photograph of my late husband. His kind face, his familiar smile, stared back at me.
See this, William? I whispered. This is what you raised. This is the good lad you were so proud of.
A tear splashed onto the photo. And in that moment, something inside me snapped. Fear didnt winwill did. The stubborn, working-class grit that had carried me through war, rationing, hospitals, and inflation. This, too, Id survive.
I stood. If he thought Id wither away in silence, hed misjudged me.
I walked. How long, I couldnt say. The woods were dense, twigs snapping underfoot. My shoes caked in mud, my heart pounding in my throat. Thena sound. A shape in the distance. A small hunting lodge, abandoned. The roof sagged, the windows boarded, but inside was dry. I found an old blanket, curled onto a wooden bench, and slept beneath the hooting of an owl.
Dawn came. My body ached, but my mind was clear. I knew what I had to doreturn to the city. Not for revenge. For justice. Because the boy who could leave his mother in the woods was no longer human. And men like that needed to learn life always collects its debts.
For hours, I stumbled until the distant hum of traffic reached me. I staggered onto the roadside. A lorry slowed. The driver, a grizzled man with a thick moustache, gaped at me.
Christ alive, love, what are you doing out here?
Going home, I said quietly. My son forgot to drive me back.
He asked no more. He took me to the city. I went straight to the police. The young sergeant eyed me with disbelief.
Maam, youre saying your son left you in the woods? Surely its a misunderstanding?
I pulled out my phonean old button model. Showed him the only photo Id taken: the black Jaguar disappearing into the trees.
I think its quite clear, I said.
The story spread fast. My face splashed across the papers: Wealthy businessman abandons elderly mother in forest. Neighbours, friends, even the church ladieseveryone talked. His photo from the funeral, in his smart black suit, now meant something else: cruelty. Shame.
When they finally summoned him to the station, he was pale, sweating. We met in the corridor.
Mum why would you do this? Youve ruined me. My company, my reputationeverything!
I looked at him. No guilt in his eyes. Only fear.
I was ruined too, son, I said softly. Only I chose to live.
The investigation dragged on for weeks. He hired lawyers, claimed it was a misunderstanding, that he panicked. Even apologisedbut I knew. The shame wasnt for me. It was for himself.
The court found him guiltyendangering life, abandonment of a vulnerable person. Eighteen months suspended, a fine, community service. The law called it lenient. But the real punishment came later.
On the courthouse steps, he turned to me, hollow-eyed.
You destroyed my life, he muttered.
No, I said. You did that. I just walked out of those woods.
I never saw him again. He sold his flat, moved abroad. Last I heard, hes in Germany somewhere.
I stayed. In the same house he once tried to take from me. I redecorated.
Fresh paint on the walls, geraniums in the windows. Every morning, I brew strong teamilk, no sugar. And I always set out two cups. One for my William.
On the windowsill sits a small white pebblethe same one that cut my knee when I fell on that forest path. A reminder. Not of pain. Of strength.
Because age doesnt begin when they cast you aside. It begins when you believe theres nothing left in you.
I never believed it.
And thats why Im still here.
