“Mum, I’m Getting Married!” – Victor Exclaims Happily. “That’s nice,” Sofia says with little enthusiasm. “Mum, what’s wrong?” Victor asks, surprised. “Nothing… Where are you planning to live?” his mother asks, narrowing her eyes. “Here, of course! You don’t mind, do you? It’s a three-bedroom flat, surely we’ll all fit?” “Do I have a choice?” she replies. “Well, renting is out of the question…” Victor mumbles. “So, I don’t have a choice,” Sofia sighs. “Mum, rental prices are ridiculous these days! We won’t have enough left for food. We’re not here forever—we’ll work and save for a place of our own much quicker this way.” Sofia shrugs. “Fine… You can move in and stay as long as you need, but I have two conditions: the bills get split three ways, and I am not the housekeeper.” “Agreed, Mum, whatever you say,” Victor replies straight away. They celebrate a modest wedding, and soon Sofia, Victor, and his new wife, Eva, are sharing the flat. From day one, Sofia always seems to have urgent plans whenever the couple get home—she’s out, the pans are empty, and the flat is left a mess just as the newlyweds left it that morning. “Mum, where have you been?” Victor asks one evening. “You know, Victor, the Community Centre rang and invited me to join their Folk Choir—I do have a great voice, as you know…” “Really?” Victor is surprised. “Yes! You just forgot. There’s a bunch of other retirees there and we have the best time singing together. I can’t wait to go back tomorrow!” Sofia says cheerfully. “And tomorrow is choir again?” “No, tomorrow’s our literary night—we’re reading Shakespeare. You know how much I love Shakespeare.” “Really?” Victor is surprised again. “Yes! I’ve told you before! You never pay attention to your old mum,” she teases gently. Eva listens silently to the entire exchange. Since Victor got married, Sofia finds a new lease on life: she attends all sorts of groups for pensioners, makes new friends, hosts lively gatherings in the kitchen with tea, biscuits brought by friends, and marathon games of bingo. Sometimes she goes for walks or gets so lost in her favourite soaps she barely hears her son and daughter-in-law come home. Household chores? Sofia is adamantly uninvolved, leaving everything for Victor and Eva. At first, they don’t complain. Eventually, Eva starts casting glances, then they mutter under their breath, Victor sighs loudly, but Sofia remains blissfully unaware and continues her busy social life. One day, she returns home, humming “Greensleeves,” and enters the kitchen where the couple sit over a freshly made soup. “Good news, kids! You can congratulate me—I’ve met a wonderful man, and tomorrow we’re off to a spa together! Isn’t that exciting?” “It is,” Victor and Eva agree in unison. “Is it serious?” Victor asks, worried about another household member. “Well, we’ll see after the spa. Hopefully, I’ll know by then,” Sofia says, happily tucking into her soup. But after the trip, Sofia returns disappointed. “Alex wasn’t a good match, but I’m not giving up!” She throws herself back into her clubs, walks, and gatherings. Eventually, Victor and Eva come home to yet another messy flat and empty kitchen, and Eva snaps, banging the empty fridge: “Sofia, could you please help with the housework too? It’s chaos in here and there’s no food! Why do we have to do everything?” “Now, why are we so irritable?” Sofia asks, surprised. “If you lived on your own, who would be cleaning for you?” “But you’re here!” Eva protests. “I’m not your maid—those days are behind me! I warned Victor I wouldn’t be the housekeeper. If he didn’t tell you, that’s not my fault,” Sofia insists. “I thought you were joking…” Victor says, bewildered. “So you want to live here happily and have me do all the housework too? No chance! I set my terms, and if you don’t like it, you’re welcome to find your own place!” Sofia says, disappearing to her room. The next morning, doing her lipstick and humming “Early One Morning,” she dons her favourite blouse and heads off to the Community Centre for Folk Choir, leaving Victor and Eva to fend for themselves.

Mum, Im getting married! my son announced, cheerful as ever.
Thats nice, I answered, maybe lacking a bit of excitement.
Mum, whats with you? Jack asked, clearly surprised.
Its nothing… Where do you plan on living? I asked, squinting a little.
Here, if thats alright? Its a three-bedroom flat, surely well all fit?
Do I have a real choice? I replied.
Well, renting somewhere is just impossible, Jack said, already sounding a bit deflated.
So theres no choice for me then, I muttered, sounding as resigned as I felt.
Mum, the price of rent these days, honestly, wed have nothing left for groceries. Were not planning to stay forever well work, save, and buy our own place. Itll be quicker this way.
I just shrugged. Suppose Ill hope for the best, then. Right, you can move in and stay as long as you need, but two conditions: we split the bills three ways and I will absolutely not be the housekeeper.
Deal, mum, absolutely, Jack replied instantly.

So Jack and his new wife, Emily, had a modest little wedding, and moved in with me: just the three of us in our London flat. From the very first day, suddenly my calendar filled up with important engagements. Theyd get back from work and Id be out, nothing in the pots and a mess left exactly as theyd tossed it in the morning nothing had miraculously tidied itself.
Mum, where have you been? Jack would ask, baffled in the evenings.
Well, you see, darling, the community centre rang and asked me to join the Folk Singing Group. With my voice, you know how it is…
Really? Jack blinked, surprised.
Of course! You just forgot, but I did mention it ages ago. Its mainly us pensioners; we get together, sing, and its lovely. Honestly, had such a good time, Im going again tomorrow! I replied, cheerfully.
And tomorrows more singing?
No, tomorrows book club were reading Shakespeare. You know how much I love Shakespeare.
Really? He sounded surprised, again.
I did tell you! Honestly, you never pay attention to your own mother, I said, gently reproachful.
Emily just watched, silent through the whole exchange.

Once Jack got married, I felt properly alive again joining all sorts of pensioners clubs. My circle of pals just grew and grew, and theyd pop over in their little groups to fill the kitchen, drinking tea and munching biscuits theyd picked up from M&S, nattering away over a game of bingo. Sometimes Id be out for a walk, or glued to my favourite telly drama so much I wouldnt even notice the kids getting home from work.
As for chores, I never lifted a finger; after all, Id made my boundaries clear right from the start Emily and Jack had the whole housework business to themselves. At first, they didnt grumble, but after a while, Emily started giving me sidelong looks, they began whispering irritably, and Jacks sighs got louder. But I paid it no mind I carried on, living life as full-on as someone in their sixties can do.

Then one afternoon, I came home absolutely thrilled, humming Greensleeves under my breath. I wandered into the kitchen where the young ones were gloomily eating some hastily made soup, and I said, Guess what, dears! Ive met a wonderful gentleman and tomorrow were off together to a spa in Bath! Isnt that marvellous?
It is, Jack and Emily agreed politely.
So is it serious? Jack asked, a little wary that I might be adding another member to our household.
Ive no idea yet, well see after the spa trip, I said, helping myself to soup and even going for seconds.

But after that trip, I came home disappointed. I said, Well, David just wasnt the right fit, so weve gone our separate ways. But Im still hopeful lifes got plenty in store for me. And the clubs and coffee mornings and book groups continued as usual.

Eventually, one evening when Jack and Emily got home to an untidy flat and bare cupboards, Emily snapped. She banged the fridge door shut and said, fed up,
Susan, couldnt you help out a bit round the house too? The place is a tip and theres literally nothing in! Why are we doing all of it while you do nothing?
Well someones lost their temper, I said, surprised. If you lived by yourselves, whod do everything for you then?
But youre here! Emily protested.
Im not your personal maid. I did my time, thank you! I told Jack right from the start I wasnt going to be the housekeeper. If he didnt fill you in, thats not my fault, I replied.
I just thought you were joking, Jack said, a bit helplessly.
So you want a nice setup and expect me to clean up after everyone and cook all the meals? No, love. I said I wouldnt and I wont. If its awkward or youre not happy, you can always set yourselves up elsewhere, I said, and I disappeared off to my own room.

Next morning, as if nothing had happened, I was happily humming Scarborough Fair, popped on a snazzy blouse, did my lips in bright red, and headed off to the community centre to join my Folk Singing Group.