How to Start Over
Where do you think youre off to, all dressed up then? asked Margaret, her tone betraying a hint of irritation. She glanced, almost involuntarily, at the old brass clock above the door the hands showed it was nearly eight in the evening. Do you even realise the time?
Victoria merely flashed a faint smile, her attention still held by her reflection in the mirror. Her fingers neatly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she turned to her mother, moving slowly, almost with rehearsed calm. She was braced for an unpleasant conversation, but after years of repetition, shed learned to tune most of it out.
Mum, I havent been sixteen in quite some time, Victoria replied, with a soft, deliberate smile. I am a grown woman, I dont owe you any explanations. Not anymore, at least.
Margarets face tightened instantly; tiny lines appeared on her brow, her lips compressed into a thin, hard line. What cheek! The audacity of this girl! How dare she speak to her mother this way?
But you live under my roof! Margarets voice rose, bristling with outrage. Her daughters defiance stung something she could never tolerate. And while were at it whos looking after your boy? Let me tell you: if you think Im going to run around after that unruly eight-year-old who treats me like Im invisible, youre sorely mistaken!
Margarets whole stance radiated disapproval. Her daughter, grown bold, flashing her independence as if shed forgotten whose door shed come crawling back to after the divorce, desperate for help.
I want to sit down in peace, watch the telly, have a quiet cuppa instead of Margaret threw her hands up as if to display the chaos sure to descend should she have to mind her grandson. Instead of chasing him round the house, cajoling him to do his homework, listening to his moans! Youve no idea how draining it is. Every day, the same: hes picky with food, hes bored, and homework is some grand injustice. And who has to sort it all? Me, as always.
Thats enough, Victoria cut in sharply. Her face changed in an instant; the calm and wry humour from a moment ago vanished. What was left was a stubborn resolve, burning in her eyes, her lips pressed tight. Matthew will stay over at Emmas tonight. And for the record, youll be last on the list if I ever need someone to watch my son. I dont want him growing up with your example. Children soak everything up, you know.
Margaret seemed momentarily frozen, as though stunned by the words. Then, with a dramatic gesture, she clasped a hand to her chest and tilted her head back in feigned agony. Her expression of wounded indignation was so exaggerated it mightve been comical, had the atmosphere been any less charged.
So thats how you talk to me! she cried, her voice trembling, milking every ounce of the martyr. I took you in when you came crawling back with that boy after your marriage failed! I gave you a roof, a room did everything, and this is my thanks
She paused, no doubt hoping for a flicker of remorse from her daughter. If so, she was disappointed Victoria remained unmoved, well acquainted with her mothers tactics and quite immune.
And lets not forget, a quarter of this house is legally mine, Victoria interjected, stopping her mother in her tracks. Youre not the only owner here, so Ive every right to live here with or without your consent.
Victoria took measured pleasure in the surprise etched across her mothers face. Did she expect her daughter to keep begging and apologising?
And for that matter, youve no right to hinder me from using my home, she continued, her tone laced with a quiet victory, as if shed finally voiced something long bottled up. Anger made her hands tremble as she checked her handbag; still, she fought to keep control.
And in any case, well not be under your feet long, Victoria said, meeting her mothers gaze. A couple of weeks, maybe a month at most. Just grit your teeth and youll be rid of us soon enough.
Margaret laughed a sharp, mocking sound echoing through the hallway, making Victoria flinch. Crossing her arms, Margaret glared at her with an odd mix of scorn and grim satisfaction.
And where will you go, exactly? she drawled, savouring every syllable. Her tone wasnt just mocking it held the smug certainty of someone sure they know best. Youve got nothing! Not even enough for a deposit. You couldnt get a mortgage if you tried.
She paused, letting her words settle in, then added, slow and purposeful, as if putting the lid on her daughters hopes: Your clever ex had the flat in his mothers name, so you got nothing in the settlement. Naive, thats what you are. Im ashamed, really youre my daughter and I never managed to teach you a sensible bone.
Victorias insides twisted, but she was determined not to show weakness. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her bag, breaths shallow as she fought for composure.
Thats none of your concern, she answered with icy restraint, swallowing the urge to snap. There was fire in her eyes, but she doused it by force of will. Im not that naive girl anymore. Anyway goodbye. And for the record, your beloved grandsons been out with Emma for hours now.
Without waiting for a response, Victoria spun round, nearly running for the door. Her heels struck the floorboards hard, echoing along the unfriendly hallway. She all but fled down the stairs, desperate to escape the house, which had proven once again the welcome within its walls was little more than a pretence.
Outside, the evening air was fresh, but Victoria hardly noticed. Anger boiled inside, blurring her thoughts, choking her breath. She walked, barely noticing the way, needing only to get away from the words, the place, and the woman who called herself her mother. Her mood was ruined, as if a great storm cloud had smothered all the light and colour from her world.
Why did I have to end up with this mother? Victoria thought bitterly, clenching her fists. The same tired refrain played over and over in her mind. She knew thered be people, quick to judge, whod label her an ungrateful, disrespectful daughter. But she no longer cared. Inside, she found a solid certainty: sometimes, its better to have no mother at all, than one who offers only criticism for support, scorn for sympathy, calculation for affection.
To a newcomer, Margaret was the picture of kindness: always smiling warmly, speaking softly, listening attentively, as if sincerely concerned. Neighbours admired her: she was the reliable sort, always there with helpful advice, the loan of an appliance, or a reassuring pat on the hand. Dont fret itll sort itself out, shed coo, soothing and maternal.
But those who knew her best saw beneath the mask. Behind the gentle smile was a woman obstinate, exacting, and forever in control. Only her own opinion mattered; she truly believed she alone knew what was best for everyone, and never hesitated to say so. She spoke bluntly, unafraid to offend, and if challenged, her eyes grew cool, her voice sharp as steel.
Victoria had lived under her mothers rules since childhood. Margaret decided everything: what shed wear, what after-school clubs shed join, even which friends were acceptable. Victorias friends were vetted as carefully as candidates for Parliament.
That girls not the sort for you, her mother declared, the moment she learned Victoria had befriended a classmate from a lone-parent family. Bad influence.
That boys trouble too, she informed her, catching wind of a friendship with the boy next door. Those sorts will only lead you astray.
But should another classmate be the child of someone on the council? Thats the right sort, keep on with her her mums got a decent post in the town hall. You never know when a contact may come in handy.
When it was time to choose a career, Margaret didnt even bother asking. The decision was made: Victoria would do medicine, end of. No interest in whether she had the slightest inclination for doctoring. That Victoria went faint at the very sight of blood mere drama, said Margaret.
Youre pretending, shed say, arching a sceptical brow. No such thing as delicate nerves. You just want to wriggle out of proper work.
Victoria tried to explain it was real even a paper cut made her queasy but her mother saw only an attempt to avoid effort, to show weakness.
So, Victoria made the only choice she saw open: she married young, at barely eighteen, when an acquaintance proposed. There was little time to weigh, to consider; all she wanted was escape. Escape from endless scrutiny, suffocating rules, from the sense that her life was her mothers property never hers.
She understood marriage was serious, a new kind of responsibility, but to her, it was also freedom. A chance to finally have even a taste of her own life.
Of course, the marriage Victoria and George didnt last. Early days felt hopeful; they were independent, making plans, muddling through. But within a year, troubles began. A mountain of adult responsibility neither was prepared for.
First there were small squabbles over dirty dishes, whod do the shopping, how to spend what little money they had. Then bigger arguments: George started coming home late, smelling of the pub, snapping at the slightest thing. Victoria tried to talk, to find out what was wrong, but he just brushed her off.
Nothings wrong, honestly. You worry too much. Just tired.
After their child was born, things grew worse. The endless nights, the crying, the exhaustion it all made things even harder. Rows became daily, sometimes shouting till they were hoarse, sometimes refusing to speak for days.
And then Victoria discovered George was unfaithful. Worse, he hardly tried to hide it. One evening, he came home especially late, carelessly dropped: Met another lady. Nothing serious, but if you want to leave I wont stop you.
Victoria stood in the hall, clutching sleeping Matthew to her chest, at a loss for words. She longed to shout or demand an explanation instead, she simply nodded and went to settle her son for the night.
She had nowhere to go. Her father was gone only her mother remained, and their relationship was fraught as ever. No friends willing to take her in with a young child. So, she stayed, enduring Georges late nights, his indifference, his snide remarks. Sometimes she wept quietly into her pillow so as not to wake Matthew.
Even before Matthews birth, Victoria had dropped out of university. She managed just half a year before discovering she was pregnant. She tried to juggle studies and caring for the baby, but soon realised it was impossible. She eventually gave up on her education altogether, barely managing to keep them fed.
When Matthew was old enough to start at nursery, Victoria found an opening to go back to her education. She thought long and hard; in the end, she chose the practical path: evening accounting courses at the local college. Hardly what shed dreamed of as a girl, but at least it was a chance to earn, to be independent.
She studied nights, collapsing into bed with her textbooks still in hand. But every time she earned another top mark, hope stirred within her. Maybe, just maybe, she could build the life she wanted.
After a few years, when things finally started to come together, Victoria felt brave enough to seek a divorce. She had a job and though not her ideal choice qualifications. Matthew was at school, more self-sufficient. The only problem was housing.
She couldnt afford her own flat; rent in their town was extortionate, her wages barely paid the bills. Thats when she remembered her share of her parents house legally hers, her only hope that didnt involve vast sums of money.
The idea of returning to her mothers house filled Victoria with mixed feelings. On one hand, it was her childhood home, familiar in every detail. On the other it was where she had always been treated as a child, never allowed her own decisions.
But there was no other choice. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and dialled her mothers number
***
Youll go mad in that house, Emma told her, worrying the hem of the kitchen tablecloth between her fingers. And think of your boy! Your mums no saint, and with Matthews personality Shell only make his life harder. Shell always be on at him, demanding obedience, and you know hes not the type for that.
Victoria was silent, looking out at the window. Early December flakes drifted from a dark grey sky, as if murmuring secrets. After a moment, she exhaled and turned to her friend.
Its only for a bit, couple of months at most, she said, with a tired but steady resolve. I agree completely, Emma. Mum is what she is. But I havent got a choice. Afterwards, well find our own place and stick to phone calls only if she wants them, because I wont be the one keeping in touch.
Emma leaned back, eyeing her friend with concern. Something about Victorias certainty seemed strange too calm, almost rehearsed, for her current situation.
What happens after those months? Emma asked, chin tilted with curiosity. You make it sound like youve got everything planned. Didnt think that was possible, with things as they are.
Victoria allowed herself a small, private smile, holding her teacup as if it shielded her secrets.
Im not as foolish as Mum likes to think, she said, meeting Emmas gaze. And Id go to any length for my sons sake. Look, theres someone showing a very clear interest in us.
She fell silent, noticing the spark of intrigue in Emmas eyes. Her friend opened her mouth, probably to ask for a name, but Victoria raised her hand gently to stall her.
Dont be offended, but Id rather not name him just yet, she added apologetically. Its not that I dont trust you, I just want to be careful. I have a good feeling about this, but theres no need to get ahead of myself.
Emma nodded, unable to hide her curiosity, but she respected Victorias boundaries and said no more.
And, Victoria added, sitting up a little straighter, a determined light in her eyes, this time, I wont let the opportunity slip, whatever it takes. I cant keep living on edge, and I wont stand by while Matthew suffers through Mums comments. I want to give him a real home, where hes loved, and a mum who isnt pulled apart on both sides. If I have to take a gamble this time so be it.
Though her voice was soft, every word was weighed and certain. This was no flight of fancy, but a well-considered resolve, fashioned out of all the missteps and hard-won lessons of the past.
Emma reached across and squeezed her hand gently.
I believe in you, Vic, she said simply. Just be careful, all right?
Victoria nodded, feeling warmth in her chest at her friends support. The future was uncertain, but she knew there was no way back.
Do you like him at all? Emma asked after a pause, her tone more caring than nosy. You ran off and married once just to get away from your mum, and look where it got you. Maybe you and Matthew ought to come live with me for a bit? Bit cramped, but never mind that, wed manage. Matthew would have someone to play with Tommy next doors just his age.
Victoria turned her cold teacup between her hands as dusk gathered outside, street lamps glowing golden, the kitchen a cocoon of light.
Hes a good man, she said simply, at last. Hes fond of me, and he adores children. Has a son, a couple of years older than Matthew. Thats how we met at the playground. Our boys hit it off, as did we at first just about the kids, gradually about everything else.
She paused, thinking back to those first chance meetings; how hed listen without judgement to stories about Matthew, share a laugh over a forgotten lunchbox, help pick up scattered toys without the faintest fuss. There was no hint of judgement or condescension only kindness.
Its easy, being around him, Victoria continued, eyes drifting off. He doesnt try to change me, or Matthew. Hes supportive always willing to help, to listen. And with his boy, hes just wonderful: never raises his voice, explains things, reads stories, plays games
Emma listened quietly, noticing the sparkle returning to her friends eyes the brightness that had gone missing for so many years.
And yes, I wont regret it, Victoria said firmly, looking Emma full in the face. This is my choice now, and Ive taken my time. I want something better for me and Matthew. But its not just running away; its a step forward. A real family, one built on care and respect.
She breathed deep as if casting off an old burden.
I get your worries, Emma and honestly, thank you for offering. But I must give this a try. If not now, then when?
Emma nodded silently, still a trace of worry in her face. She squeezed Victorias hand again.
All right. If youre sure, Im behind you. And if things dont work out, my door will always be open.
Victorias heart lifted at the words.
Thank you, she whispered. That means more than you know
***
Victoria was spot on when she told her mother theyd be staying only a few short months, she wasnt exaggerating. Life took a bright, unexpected turn: Michael asked her to marry him. It was the chance shed long hoped for a chance to really begin again. Packing was done in record time: a couple of bags, Matthews favourite toys, and just the essentials. They were gone within hours, as if fate itself was ushering them out.
No one seemed happier than Matthew. The boy had never hidden his dislike for his overbearing grandmother. Her constant nagging, strict rules, and need to run the show grated on him. Hed respond to her remarks with sighs and door slams, retreating to the privacy of his room at every chance. Now his eyes were sparkling he could stop pretending, and simply be himself.
Margarets reaction, when she heard her daughter was marrying again, was immediate and wild. She demanded to meet the prospective son-in-law. Her voice nearly shrieked with disapproval:
I must meet him! If I dont like the look of him, therell be no wedding! I wont allow you to ruin your life a second time!
Victorias answer was blunt and final:
Mum, this is my decision. No introductions, no discussions.
The refusal threw Margaret into a storm. She stormed onto the street evidently keen to make sure the entire neighbourhood witnessed her righteous fire. She shouted, heedless of her words, about her daughters foolishness, lack of gratitude, utter absence of conscience.
People whod known Margaret as a polished, charming woman, always quick with a warm greeting or a bit of neighbourly help, were shocked. Some ventured over to calm her, suggesting she let family affairs stay private. All they got for their trouble were more outbursts. They stepped back, shaking their heads and whispering: Well, I never she always seemed so composed.
Later, of course, Margaret tried to smooth things over, ringing round her neighbours to explain shed been carried away, that she just worries for her daughter. But it was never quite the same. In the eyes of the street, she was that woman whod made such an unseemly scene.
As for Victoria she was finally happy. Her second marriage turned out just as shed dreamed: warm, reliable, full of understanding. Michael became her true partner and a pillar for Matthew as well. She could be herself with him, never on eggshells or apologising for every little thing.
She even chased down her old ambitions, enrolling at university. It was tough, balancing study, work and home, with barely a spare minute. But each morning, sitting at her lectures or poring over her books, Victoria felt the embers of hope, once nearly snuffed out by her mothers iron rule, rekindled anew. She was doing something she loved and her life brimmed with real purpose.
Work came her way not glamorous, but sturdy, with decent people and room to move up. She learned to stretch a pound, set something by for a rainy day savings that were a badge of her independence, a promise of security.
Sometimes, she reflected on the day she ran from her childhood home, and she would smile. She now had everything shed once been afraid to wish for: a loving husband, a thriving son, meaningful work and study and above all, the feeling, at last, that this life belonged entirely to herself.
No matter what lay ahead, Victoria knew she was ready.
Because, for the first time, shed made the choice herself.
