Claire married at just twenty, and at twenty-two she gave birth to her first and only child. She never cared much for children, and when her son was born, Claire and her husband handed him over to her own mother for the upbringing. Every month, they sent a bit of money, living freely and happily, unconcerned with their parental duties.
Two years passed, the grandmother died, and they were forced to bring the boy home. Claires frustration with her son grew, and she promptly placed him in nursery so she could avoid seeing him. Later, she sent him to primary school, but the boy struggledhe couldnt read or write properly. His classmates mocked him relentlessly. The school tried contacting his parents, but Claire always seemed too busy for such matters.
One afternoon, Claires husband finally attended a parent meeting. The teachers seized the opportunity to discuss the boys behaviour and academic troubles. Returning home, the father lost his temper and beat his son with a leather belt. By the time the boy finished school, Claire pushed him to work at a local factory. There, he met his future wife, Mary. Fortunately, the factory management granted the young couple a flat. When Claire had grandchildren, her indifference persisted.
On holidays, shed send small amounts of money to her grandchildrenten or twenty pounds at most. Eventually, the time came for Claire to retire. She dreamed of a grand celebration, insisting it be hosted by her son. Ive sent you some money to your account. Go with Mary, buy food and something nice for the table. Well celebrate my retirement at yours, she told him with little warmth.
Yes, Mum, her son replied, resigned. He and Mary sent their children to stay with relatives in the countryside to keep them out of the way, and began preparing for the festivities. When everything was ready, Claire arrived and smiled at the spread. Decent effort. Off you go to the kitchen, both of you. The guests will be arriving soon, and youll need to serve them. You can sit with us once theyve all gone.
Obediently, the son and Mary disappeared into the kitchen, making themselves useful as silent hosts. The guests ate, drank, and danced well into the night. When at last the party ended, Claire entered the kitchen. Theres one slice of cake left. Split it between you. Im not feeling well, were off homeI wont be sitting with you tonight. Her son was deeply hurt, unable to hide his disappointment.
A week later, Claire called him. Son, theyre taking me to hospital for an operation. Bring me some thingsIll send you a list. No, were off to the seaside with Mary, Mum. You know weve planned this. Call Dad if you need help. Goodbye. For the first time, Claire realised the world didnt turn for hersomeone had finally told her so.
