12March
The Grayson parents turned up for a threeday stay. Their son, Paul, hasnt lived here for ages, so the house feels oddly empty.
Natalie was the one who finally opened the front door, keys dangling in her hand as if the ring had taken her by surprise. Her coat was drenched, the umbrella dripping, and the milk bag shed carried was torn at the handle. Evening was winding down, the hallway already scented with someones dinner and a cats musk.
Behind the door stood Valerie Grayson, clutching a knitted scarf, polished shoes, a wheeled suitcase and a bag of something steaming. Her voice sounded like a heroine from an old filmbright, with a hint of drama.
Bright day, my dears! Im here for three days, with a cherry tart for Paul, she announced, already marching into the hallway while Natalie exhaled a sigh. You didnt tell me the entry code changed, did you? I was about to leave, then came back with the suitcase, and had to chase down the caretaker for the new code.
Natalie kept quiet, nodding toward an empty spot on her shoulder as if someone else were standing there, though the flat was dead quietuncomfortably quiet.
Wheres Paul? Valerie asked, slipping off her shoes. She glanced at the hallway coat rack: a single hook free, no mens jacket, no boots, no trace of his scent or his chaos. Hell be back later, I suppose? Well sit down to dinner togetherIve brought a pot of pilau. Peter, Pauls father, will pop in after a quick errand. And Sam? He must still be at nursery.
Natalie forced a brief smile, as though someone had tugged at a string.
Hes in a meeting that ran over, Valerie said, then fell silent, eyes darting too fast. She noticed only one cup on the shelf, a halfused bottle of shampoo in the bathroom, and childrens drawings on the fridge while Pauls photographs had vanished.
In the kitchen Valerie set the tart on the table, opened the pilau container and took Natalies hand.
Dont worry, love. Things happen. Take a breath. Well eat, and Peter will be here soonyoull have a laugh with him. Hes a good man.
Natalie nodded, sat down, lifted a plate but didnt eat. The kettle whistled loudly, sounding almost like a complaint.
Later they went to fetch Sam. Valerie carried mittens and a thermos of compote; Natalie walked silently, hands clasped around her sleeve. In the lift, on the way back, they ran into the neighbour, Lena.
Natalie, your ex is out again with that paintedup girl from the market, pushing a pram? He never looks after the kid, does he? Lena blurted in her usual rapidfire tone.
Valerie pressed her lips together, refusing to look at either of them.
Lena Natalie could only exhale.
Nothing to add, love. Everyone knows the truth anyway.
That night, when Valerie pulled a blanket from the cupboard and carefully made the couch look like a bed, she paused, holding a pillow for a long moment.
Did he leave? Wheres my son? What happened? she asked, not looking up.
Natalie stood in the kitchen doorway, back straight, hands on the kettle.
Three months ago, she said quietly. He said he was going to a meeting and never came back.
Where to? Valerie pressed.
Natalie gave no answer, just glanced away.
Valerie sat, placed the blanket beside her, set a small, plasticmoulded tart on her lap.
I baked this especially for you. He told us everything was fine that you all wanted a summer holiday by the sea He
She choked on the words, as if shed just climbed a long flight of stairs. Natalie approached, set a cup of tea beside her, but didnt touch her.
The room was still. Outside, an old tram rumbled past. Natalie looked out the window; Valerie sat unmoving. Each woman sat in her own silence.
A sharp click echoed as the front door slammedPeter always shut it with authority, as if to remind everyone he was there. He entered cheerfully in a furcollar coat, a bag of mandarins and a newspaper tucked under his arm.
Good evening, ladies! Look what Ive broughtMandarins from Spain, sweet as my childhood. He kicked off his boots, hung his coat, and walked toward the kitchen where three glances met: Natalies weary, Valeries uneasy, and Sams bright, childlike stare as he ran to his grandfather, clinging to his trousers like a tree.
Why so quiet? Peter asked, bewildered. Did I come at a bad time?
Paul Valerie began, but her voice faltered. She looked at Natalie, as if asking permission.
Paul left, Natalie said calmly, as if reciting it a hundred times. Three months ago.
The mandarin bag thudded softly on the table, the newspaper followed. Peter sat, stared out the window as though seeking an answer.
You think youve messed us up, Natalie? he shouted suddenly. You drove him to it, nagged him like a nail in wood. I barely recognised his voicehe left home as if heading to a penal colony!
Peter, Valerie whispered.
What, Peter? Everythings covered up, and nowhello! You simply ruined it, he waved his hand dismissively.
Natalie said nothing, only carried a cup to the sink and stood there, undecided whether to leave or stay.
Valeries face went pale; she rose, went to Peter, squeezed his shoulder. He took a moment to react.
He told me everything was fine. Sam is healthy, youre doing great, the holidays planned. Did he lie to you, Paul? her voice cracked. To me? To my mother?
Peter looked up, for the first time at a loss for words.
I I thought he stammered. He isnt a child; he makes his own choices. Maybe someone
Someones been in his life a long time, Natalie said without turning. He lives with her nowthe one from work he used to text in the bathroom.
Peter rose, went onto the balcony, shut the door behind him. He lit a cigarette in the dusk, the glow like a lighthouse. He never smoked in front of the grandchild, but now he did.
Ill call him, Natalie declared. Hell have to explain himself.
Valerie said nothing, only closed her eyes.
The phone screen displayed Paul. A ring, a pause, then a tired voice answered.
Yes?
Come home. Now. Dad and mum are here. Sam needs to talk.
A long silence, then a reluctant Alright. The line clicked.
Natalie looked out. Snow was being shoveled from the pavement, a white night, silent and cold.
Twenty minutes later the lock clicked and Paul stepped in as if into a strangers flat. He wore the same puffer jacket Natalie once found full of receipts and gum. His hair was slightly mussed, a faint scent of foreign cologne lingered. He halted at the doorway.
Hello everyone, he said flatly.
Sam darted forward, paused a halfstep away. Paul sat awkwardly, pulling the boy close.
Hey, mate. Hows it going? Sam asked, not accusing, just stating.
Paul squeezed him, but his eyes never rose.
The kitchen fell into a heavy hush. Peter emerged from the balcony, the smell of smoke trailing him. Valerie stared at her son as if seeing him for the first time.
You told me she began. You told me everything was finethat Natalie was brilliant, Sam was happy. Did you lie, Paul?
I didnt want to upset you, he replied.
And her? Valerie turned to Natalie. Did you not want to upset her? Or was it easier to vanish?
Peter muttered quietly, Why did you set your own mother up?
Paul sank into his seat, hands flat on the table as if surrendering.
I owe no one explanations, he said. I left because I couldnt keep lying. I couldnt stay with Natalie, and I couldnt stay with you either.
Leaving because you were too weak to stay and speak like a man, Valerie snapped. You betrayed her, us, yourself.
Natalie sat in the corner, silent, as if she no longer needed any more truths. She already knew everything.
Valerie reached out, her hand trembling, and rested it on Pauls shoulder. You were better, Paul. I remember you differently.
He closed his eyes, said nothing.
Sam peeked back into the kitchen, this time staying put in the doorway, watching.
Paul stood, took a step back, his face hardening like a mask. He turned sharply and left, the door closing with a firm, final clicklike the period at the end of a chapter.
Morning came, grey light spilling over fresh snow on the windowsill. Peter read the paper, Sam ate porridge, Valerie moved dishes about, and Natalie stood by the window.
I straightened, my voice steadier now.
I can collect the appliances you leftmicrowave, slow cooker, kettle. Take them if you wish. I was planning renovations anyway; change wont stop us. It just feels right to clear everything to the ground.
Valerie snapped, Youve gone mad! Its only morning and youre already talking about possessions. We have nothing to split. Were not thieves. We should apologise, not loot.
Sam, playing with his toy cars on the carpet, looked up. Grandma, will Dad come back?
Valerie inhaled deeply, knelt and stroked his head. He will, love, just a bit later. Want to watch a cartoon?
Sam nodded.
Natalie lingered in the doorway, neither tears nor anger, just a hollow quiet, like the still after a long storm. She set the kettle on again; it sang, a backdrop to our silence. Ahead lay a plain day, ordinary but fresh, as if everything were starting anew.
The flat smelled of soap and dry air. Valerie was in the bathroom, washing the sink slowly, as if in meditation. Natalie entered, reached for a towel, and hesitated.
Leave it, Valerie said without turning. Ill take it myself.
Natalie didnt answer. She took a towel, placed it nearby, and waited.
Im not angry with you, she finally said. Im just tired of explaining that Im not the only one at fault.
Valerie leaned against the basin, shaking her head. I was angryat myself. I didnt see what was happening. I thought you had everything: love, family, happiness. I told everyone that.
Natalie nodded. The bathroom was cramped, two women bound by a son, a house, a past.
Im sorry, Valerie whispered. For everything. I truly thought you couldnt have held us all together. Now I see youve been holding on for us all, even when you didnt need to.
Natalie sat on the tub edge, quietly: Ill keep holding myself. No one else.
Sams voice drifted from the kitchen: Mum, where are my shark socks? Something clattered.
And him, Natalie added. Ill look after him a little longer.
They smilednot bewildered, but with a weary, genuine femininity.
Later, at the door, they embraced for a long while. Peter stood nearby, shifting from foot to foot.
I was wrong too, he murmured. We men arent taught to speak, not as kids, not later on.
Learn to speak, Natalie replied. While theres someone to listen.
He nodded.
Sam scrambled up, put on the wrong shoes, and bolted down the stairs.
Well call you, Valerie said. Or youll call us. Were family now; theres nowhere to run.
Natalie nodded, hugged him tight.
The flat was nearly empty. A few boxes leaned against the wall, a solitary mug sat on the windowsill. I placed a spoon in the mug, poured boiling water, cracked the window, and a fresh chill entered, carrying a sense of newness.
Sam lay on the floor, drawing a sky with a green marker.
Why not blue? I asked.
Because spring will be green, he answered. Spring is green.
I watched his hand glide over the page, then adjusted his collar.
Shall we get some bread later?
Yes! And mandarinsjust with the leaves!
I smiled.
Outside a tram hissed by, laughter drifted up from the street, light fell on the floor. In that light lay everythingpain, forgiveness, and the beginning of something new.
I sit here now, pen in hand, and realise that sometimes the hardest part of a breakup is not the loss but the realization that you have to keep holding yourself together, no matter how many doors slam shut. The lesson? Strength isnt about never falling; its about standing up again, even when youre the only one left to lean on.
