Beneath Her Mothers Shadow
At thirty-five, Edith was a reserved and, as folks would say, somewhat browbeaten woman. Shed never courted anyone, though shed worked as an accountant in the same London office since leaving college. Her wardrobe mostly consisted of shapeless garments, and she was rather plump, often wearing a downcast expression with drooping lips. Ediths mother, Margaret, had given birth to her at eighteen, the father a mystery Edith never solved. She was raised in a quiet Shropshire village by her grandmother, finishing school there before moving in with her mother upon enrolling at college.
While Edith grew up sheltered in the countryside, Margaret lived it up in the cityher mind set on parties though she did hold a job. She changed gentlemen often, confident in her looks and carefree ways. Margaret only visited Edith once a month or so, bringing a toy before disappearing again. Ediths grandmother was stern and strict, so warmth and tenderness were foreign to Edith, denied her by both mother and grandmother.
To this day, Edith lived with her mother in a modest London flat. At fifty-something, Margaret still looked dazzlingslim, youthful, always pampered with costly creams, frequenting beauty salons, and sometimes heading out on dates. Edith, in stark contrast, seemed to fade into the background.
On the eve of her holiday, Edith handed her documents to a colleague covering her absence and left the office, thinking to herself of the holiday pay tucked in her bag. She sighed, for her mother would surely claim the money as always, leaving Edith to spend her time off at home. The routine tired her. Why couldnt she stand her ground? Though an adult, her mother treated her like a child, demanding every penny of her salary, allowing Edith no autonomy over her own earnings. The future seemed bleak.
Edith entered their flat to find Margaret waiting in the hallway.
At last, Margaret declared. You got your holiday pay? Hand it over.
I did, Edith mumbled. Just let me take my coat off at least.
Youve time enough for that Margaret pressed.
Edith rummaged in her bag for her purse.
Heavens, still carrying that shabby old thing, like a grandmothers hand-me-down. Arent you embarrassed? Margaret scoffed.
The words stung, tears pricked at Ediths eyes.
How could I have money for a new bag? she blurted, surprising even herself by daring to speak against her mother. You take everything I earn.
Not just the bag, but look at yourselfscruffy and overweight. Sort yourself out, lose some weight. Its humiliating to be seen out with you, Margaret sneered openly.
Humiliating? Edith shouted back, her voice cracking. Isnt it humiliating to take my money? Not that I ever go anywhere with you, she cried, then fled from the flat.
Blind with tears, Edith stumbled down the stairs and out to the street, collapsing onto a bench, her face hidden in her hands. Time slipped by unnoticed, until she heard a gentle voice.
Edith, what are you doing out here? Looking up, she saw Mrs Anne Cooper, a kindly older woman who lived downstairs in the adjacent building. She sat beside Edith, taking her hand. Now tell me, dearsurely things cant be so bad youve got to weep out here?
The dam broke, and Edith confided in Anne.
My mother takes all my money, spends it on herselfexpensive cosmetics and clothes while Im left with rags. I suppose Ive always been soft, never stood up to my grandmother, and now I can’t stand up to my mother. Shes controlling and cruel Anne listened, nodding, and then Edith felt a pang of guilt. Oh, what am I doing, talking about my own mother like this? Youll think Im a gossip, a hopeless one too.
Anne had known Margaret for years, never cared for her, but always had sympathy for Edith. She understood the sort of dominance Edith endured.
Edith, Anne said gently, stop worrying so muchdry those tears. Youre a grown woman now, and its high time you took care of yourself.
What sort of woman am I, Mrs Cooper? No one’s ever loved me, and I dont suppose anyone ever will Edith replied quietly.
Listen to meyou ought to leave your mothers flat at once, Anne advised, watching Ediths uncertain face.
Where could I go? My salarys not enough to rent anything decent in London, and mother will just curse me for not handing over my holiday pay I just couldnt bear her tirade, so I left
So, she didnt get your holiday pay? Good. Dont worry about her! Shell manage; she always does. Think of yourself for a change. In fact, why dont you stay at my cottage in Surrey for a bit? The house is soundmy late husband built it with his own hands. Its out in the country, quiet and peaceful, just the sort of place you need for a break. Youre on holiday, after all, and I wont charge you a farthing.
Oh, Mrs Cooper, are you sure its alright for me to stay in your house? Edith asked, a bit shyly.
Of course, dear. Ive known you since you were a girl. Wait here, Ill fetch you the cottage keys, jot down the address and my telephone number.
Edith soon found herself at the station, purchasing a ticket for the train with pounds. Settling by the window, she watched the passengers milling about the platform. Never before had she travelled outside London; usually it was just from home to work. No one paid her any mind. She gazed quietly at the rolling countryside until her stop, then made her way to Annes cottage, letting herself in.
She sat down in an old armchair, feeling a hush fall upon her.
What a peaceso quiet, so free. This is a world Ive never known, she thought.
No mother hovering, no snide comments. Spotting the remote, Edith switched on the television; a talk show came on. Margaret would never let Edith watch such programmes, always commandeering the set for her own tastes, dismissing Ediths preferences with a laugh and a sharp word.
Edith never dared answer her mother back, only lowering her head further each time Margaret unleashed her barbs. The idea of standing up for herself had never crossed her mind.
Edith explored the little house, switched on the fridge and filled it with cheese, yoghurts, and a packet of frozen pies shed picked up from a shop near the station. She cooked herself a pie, ate in peace, and finally felt her nerves settle.
How wonderful to be alone for once, she thought.
Her mobile rangit was Margaret.
So youve run off, I saw you with Anne on that bench. Go on, have your little sulk, I know youll come crawling back. Honestly, how can you listen to outsiders? No one will help a muddleheaded girl like you. Youll be lost without me
Edith switched off the call, well-versed in the string of insults sure to follow. Strangely, she didnt feel upset this time. That evening Anne phoned.
How are you settling in, Edith?
Yes, Mrs Cooper. Thank you for everything.
My nephew, Stephen, is coming down tomorrow with your belongings.
My belongings? Edith wondered aloud.
Margaret brought a big parcel round, said, Since youve taken my daughter, you can take her things as well.
I see, Mrs Cooper. How will I know Stephen?
Oh, hell turn up in his carknows the cottage well, tall chap, wears spectacles
Are you sure its not a bother? Edith queried.
Oh do hush, Edith. Youre an adult nowtime to start living for yourself, and most of all, start loving yourself! Buy some new clothes, youre quite pleasant really, youve just let yourself go. Well, thats that. Goodnight
The morning dew sparkled on the grass, birdsong floated across the fields, and somewhere a dog barked in the distance.
Edith turned Annes words over in her mind and went to the mirror.
I do look a sight but my eyes, theyre pretty, just a bit sad. My hair, its thickbut always twisted up like an old maid. Margaret was rightI should lose some weight.
She slept soundly at the cottage, a proper rest at last. When she awoke, sunlight streamed through the curtains. She threw open the windowdew twinkled, birds sang, all felt hopeful and new.
What a glorious morning! Edith stretched and smiled.
She soon sat on the veranda with a mug of coffee, watching television a while. An idea bloomedperhaps she could change jobs, rent her own flat somewhere. The cottage was too far for commuting, but it might be a fresh start. For once, her mother didnt even enter her thoughts. Her heart fluttered with anticipation of what might come.
Finally, I can live on my ownindependent, her reverie was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.
Nervous, she peeked through and saw a tall man with spectacles, carrying a large bag.
Good morning, he smiled, Im Stephen. You must be Edith?
Hello. Yes, Im Edith. Please, do come in, she replied, stepping aside.
Aunt Anne asked me to bring your things and help you get settled. If you need to pop into town, Ive the car just outside. Dont be shy. Anne said youre a bit reservedI know your storyat least, what Aunt Annes told me.
And so Edith met her future husband. Stephen, himself familiar with disappointment after a failed first marriage, grew genuinely fond of Edith. The spark of love transformed Edith overnighther hesitant step and haunted eyes were gone. She shed her excess weight, eager now to impress her beloved. She visited a beauty salon, underwent a full makeover, and hardly recognised herself afterwards.
Can it really be me? she smiled at her reflection, her eyes finally glittering with joy.
Stephen brought her to his London flat.
Edith, Ive always dreamed of a woman like youkind, sincere, caring. Were no children, lets get married.
Edith readily agreed, grateful to have found Stephenthey had much in common. Their wedding was quiet and intimate, and Margaret attended, though could not resist a few biting remarks at the table. Anne nipped that in the bud, however, and Margaret soon left, her absence unnoticed. Edith felt nothing but relief.
Stephens family warmed to Edith instantly. He gazed at her with affection, thinking to himself, Happiness comes in the endat last, it has come to me and Edith.
Soon after, Edith was expectinga child on the way brought her double joy. Though happiness arrived late, it was all the sweeter. The anxieties of her old life, living under her mothers harsh rule, faded away. Edith discovered her true self, blossoming outwardly and within. She had learned, at last, to love herselfand Stephen, too.
Thank you for remembering my story, and may good fortune smile upon you always.
