Honestly, Ive got to tell you about the absolute drama that exploded recently in the Parker familya proper English household, if youll believe it.
Its over! Margaret dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a lacy white handkerchief and let out this heart-wrenching sigh that even made her husband, Edward, snap to attention.
Maggie, what is it? Your drops? he asked, always so clueless.
Oh, for heavens sake, Edward! Will you stop going on about your precious heart drops! Dont you get it? This is shameful! Utterly shameful! The whole familys disgraced! Just look at her! Shes not even a tiny bit sorry!
The only child of the Parker clan, you see, certainly didnt look anything like a remorseful sinner. There was no dramatic sobbing or desperate wringing of hands. Not a bit of it.
Elizabeth Parker was sitting on the verandah, eating cherries. Shed flung her long, beautiful legs up on the railinglegs her mother insisted looked exactly like her late grandmothers, who, mind you, was the star of the Royal Ballet. Elizabeth would pluck a cherry from this posh painted bowl, pop it into her mouth, and then expertly flick the stone into the rose bushes. With every pit that flew, her mother nearly fainted with indignation.
Elizabeth! Thats enough! How dare you behave like this?! We need to have a serious conversation, and you you
Margaret threw her hands heavenward and stormed off to take her so-called drops.
Elizabeths father lingered a moment, hope flickering in his eyes. Lizzie, darling, youre not joking, are you?
No, Dad, Im dead serious. And make sure you tell Mum that all this matchmaking nonsense is never going to happen. Im not marrying James. Not happening. She needs to drop it.
Youre breaking her heart, you know.
Dont be dramatic, Dad!
Maybe youll change your mind?
Nope. I already turned him down. We talked it out todaydecided everything. Ill say it again if it isnt clear: No. Theres not going to be a wedding.
In the lounge, Margarets wails echoed down the hall, prompting Edward to dash to her side. Elizabeth sighed and plucked another cherry off the platter.
Oh, what will I tell everyone?! Its a disaster! The restaurants booked, the invitations are out!
Mum, I never asked you to send them! Elizabeth sang out without even raising her voice. Your circus, your monkeys!
Thats so cruel, love! I just wanted whats best!
Well, you got what you always get, didnt you? Sorry, Mum, but I have my own plans for my life! Shocking, isnt it?
Elizabeth! Margarets voice cracked, and she started up with the sobbing again.
At the moment? Nothing particularly terrible! Elizabeth stacked the untouched tea cups and brushed past her mother, laughing. I can wash a few cups without breaking them, you know.
She disappeared off to the kitchen, and Margaret set her handkerchief aside with a groan. Shes just like your mother! she declared to Edward. Even the way she says things! Why is this happening to me?
You have to know: Margaret never got on with her famous mother-in-law, Violet Parker, not from day one. Margaret hadnt been a young bride, so she thought shed earned a bit of respect and wisdom. But Violet couldnt be bothered to change for anyone.
Margaret, darling, what is that smell? Violet would whisper, pinching her nose every time Margaret swept into a room.
Its my new perfume! Dont you like it?
Well, maybe, but no need to pour the whole bottle over yourself. A splash on the wrist is quite enough.
Margaret, who genuinely had a bit of a heavy hand with the old scent, would pout miserably for hours after that.
What have I done to her? shed moan to Edward. Why does she treat me like this?
Thats just Mums way, love. She treats everyone like that.
Well, shed better change her way, or Ill snap! And stop calling me darling, I cant stand it! Margaret would snap in exasperation.
Of course, Violet never changed, firing off sharp little remarks that wound Margaret up on a regular basis. It even prompted a bit of a frost between Edward and his mum. That was until, at a theatre do, someone blurted out a backhanded compliment to Margaret: My dear, youre becoming quite the lady! Thats what comes from spending time with Violet Parker! Shes a legend, a real trendsetter. Its marvellous that youre turning into such a lovely copy!
Margaret didnt like being compared to her mother-in-law, but she lapped up the compliment all the same. Because honestly, Violet was undeniably stylish.
She kept a polite distance after thatcordial, never close. But when Elizabeth was born, Violet absolutely doted on her. Shed happily spend hours with the baby if allowed.
Their family was rather creative, apart from Margaret, who was a dentist, and so there was a lovely, easy calm in the home. Elizabeth grew up cherishedpampered endlessly by her grandmother and adored by her father, while her mother was firm but only because she desperately wanted Elizabeth to have a better life than hers.
Margaret never talked about her past, not even to Edward. He knew the general gist, but never pressed her for details. He was wise enough to drop the subject, which Margaret really appreciated. The past was a closed book. She focused on the now.
She had cut off her mother years ago. The reasons were heavy, deep, and private. In her silver locket, always around her neck, she kept a photo of a curly-headed little boy. She never opened itcouldnt bear to. Her son, Peter, just two years old when Margarets mum, left in charge while Margaret sat her dental exams, popped out for milk Hot summer, open windows, a crib pushed close for peace
Losing her boy nearly broke Margaret beyond repairshe couldnt eat, couldnt sleep, her heart shattered. She blamed herself for not taking time off, for chasing her studies. The day she passed her exam, she came home to a world that had been shattered.
Her husband was away in Africa, didnt even make it back in time for the funeral. They divorced almost immediately. The marriage had never been happy, and the tragedy ended it all.
Once the divorce was done, she packed a small suitcase and left the town of her childhood forever. After she learned she would never be a mother again, Margaret felt a hundred years old, hollowed out by pain.
But then, along came Edward.
He turned up at her practice with the worst toothache, clutching his swollen cheek.
How longs it been like this? she asked, irritated.
About a week. Havent slept, he grimaced.
Why did you wait so long? Youre a grown man, you should know better, she scolded.
Youre right! I dont know anything, Edward managed to smile through his agony.
There was something in that nervous grin that caught Margaret off guard, and she even muddled her instrumentssomething that had never happened before. Without meaning to, she blushed so much that Edward closed his eyes to spare her further embarrassment.
She finished the work in silence, but for the first time since Peters death, her hands were gentle again.
Over the next year or so, Edward would pick her up from work and walk her home. They rarely talked, but they understood each other. When Edward finally proposed, she hesitated.
I feel content with you, she admitted, but Im not sure I can make you happy.
Whys that?
I dont want children.
Why not?
Margaret drew a breath. Ill tell you, but I wont say everything. After that, youll have to think. And if youre not here tomorrow, Ill understand. Think about it, and ask your mothers opinion if you like. You seem to adore her.
Of course, Edward didnt consult his mumhe was his own man, and Violet was never one to meddle, even when it came to her only son. She only made an exception for Margaret much later, joking that since retiring from the ballet she became a total nightmare for her daughter-in-law, just as in all the old jokes.
When Edward did tell Violet everything, she quietly smoked her cigarette into a fine china cup and listened, growing more sombre by the minute. By the end, she asked, Do you love her?
Yes.
Then whats to think about? Love is a treasure, and the price is always worth paying, however much it is. Sometimes, its so heavy youre sure you cant carry itbut youll find the strength. If you cherish what youre given, youll manage. I know it.
And that was that. Edward brought Margaret to meet his mother, Violet offered her cheek for a peck and promptly took Margaret to see her dressmaker. Then from an old family sideboard she fished out a jewellery box.
These, Margaret, are the Parker heirlooms.
I couldnt possibly!
Oh, dont be silly. Youre one of us now! Choose what you like. But knowthese arent baubles for show. Wear them wisely.
She grinned, teasing that only in Brighton could you get away with diamonds at the grocers, and only there to make the fishmongers jealous.
Margaret was genuinely gratefulthough loathe to admit it, she was happy. And when she realised she was expecting, the first person she confided in was Violet.
Feeling a bit green, Margaret. You alright? Violet had just breezed back from yet another brief marriage.
With Edward out, Violet pestered Margaret with questions until Margaret raced out to the loo and stayed long enough for Violet to put two and two together.
Youll have your baby with Susanshes the best midwife about, and I trust her. Why are you so nervous?
Im not sure I can take it Margaret looked down.
Listen to me, Margaret, I dont say this lightly. But dont be a fool! Say thank you to God or the universe, then get on with it! Dont worry, Ill be watching over you and the baby every step. You hear me?
Yes Thank you, Violet.
Save your thanks for later, when I become the geriatric old bag nagging the soul out of you. Then, remember this thank you and say it again!
And when Elizabeth Parker arrivedhealthy, loud, and right on timeViolet greeted her at the hospital, peeled back the lace blanket, and crowed, A real beauty, Margaret, well done!
She kept her word, too. Violet, queen of social circles and retired prima ballerina, would come round, toss off her fur coat, roll up her sleeves and scrub nappies with old-fashioned soap, declaring, Best way, always! Then shed kiss Elizabeths pink feet and dote with all the grandma gusto one could imagine.
Arguments and tempers were forgotten.
Margaret finally had the one thing shed yearned for: a family, a home, and, for the most part, peace.
Of course, she never forgot Peter. Twice a year Edward would take her up to her old home town, but she never visited the city centre or her mother, just stayed in a tiny inn on the outskirts. Margaret counted the minutes until she could leave again.
So it continued until Elizabeth was ten, and Margaret got a letter from her mother.
Only Violet ever saw that letter. Margaret showed it to her with tears asking, What do I do?
Go see her. Youll never forget otherwise. Maybe you cant forgive, but shes your mother. Remember who she was before everything went wrong. Was there something good, even a little? Talk to the mother you remember from when you were a girl like Elizabeth. Mistakessometimes catastrophichappen to all of us. Me, you anyone. Im not asking you to be a saint and forgive in a heartbeat. If you havent got it in you, thats fine. Your right. But I think you need this talk, not her. Otherwise youll spend your life angry and afraid, and that wont do Elizabeth any good either. Think about it, for yourself and your girl. Not for your mother. But whatever you decide, you have my support.
Next day, Margaret hugged Edward goodbye, dropped Elizabeth with Violet, and went home.
She barely spoke a word to her mother. The old woman woke just long enough to squeeze her daughters hand and whisper, Forgive me.
Margaret returned after a few days, and when Violet handed her granddaughter back, she nodded with approval: You did the right thing.
Youd think, after all that, Margaret would finally have found a little peace. But something stuck, just as Violet warned. Worry clung to her so tight she could hardly think straight.
She grew overprotective of Elizabeth, too much so, and even Edward started to notice. Youre hovering, Maggie. Shes a big girl now, she needs friends and interests of her own, not just us.
I dont know what you want from me.
Let her have a bit of freedom, love. Shell be fine.
Oh, will she? And you say that to me? Arent you worried what could happen to her?
Im not careless, Margaret. But honestly, youre scaring her. Nothings happened and you act like disasters around every corner. Shell never grow up if you dont let go a bit.
Edward was at his wits end. He loved his wife, but her fear threatened to smother the whole family.
Then Violet stepped in: Let Elizabeth dance. Ballroom, with a partner. Itll do her good.
Are you sure, Mum? She already has music, drama, piano lessons
Cut all that rubbish. She needs dancing. With a partner. Trust me.
Okay. Ill sort it.
And thats how James came into Elizabeths life.
He was a slightly pudgy, awkward lad whose gran dragged him to ballroom classand he got paired with Elizabeth. The teachers said, Theyre both a bit big for their age, let them learn together, cant hurt, not realising Elizabeth was not the sort to just stand awkwardly at the back.
Three years later, James and Elizabeth were winning their first trophy. Soon after, they were regulars at all the big competitions. He was a far cry from the clumsy boy hed beentall, handsome, and clearly besotted with his petite partner. Judges even thought they must surely be a couple.
Elizabeth just grinned cheekily whenever anyone asked, not confirming or denying a thing, while Margaret quietly planned her daughters future well in advance.
Margaret’s scheme was finally revealed after Elizabeths school-leaving party.
Ive made up my mind. Im going to study medicine.
Elizabeth had always been brilliant at school, but she waited until the very last moment to decide what to do next, weighing up every option.
But darling, we thought you had other plans, said Margaret, her smile so odd that it made Elizabeth shiver.
What plans, Mum? I never said anything.
Oh, youre impossible to get a word out of. But I had a chat with James and his family.
And?
Weve three months to prepare. A lovely autumn wedding! Ill speak to your gran, Im sure she can pull some strings.
Wedding? Elizabeth squinted. Whos getting married, James?
Dont be silly! Of course! You two are perfect on the dance floor and in life! Isnt it wonderful?
And you didnt even bother to ask me, did you? Elizabeth sighed.
I just assumed, darling.
Dont call me darling, Elizabeth snapped, grabbing her bag and leaving without a look back. That evening, Margaret found out her daughter had moved in with Violet for a spell.
Violet was blunt: What did you expect? Elizabeth isnt a dolly to dress up and march down the aisle. Shes her own person. Youve always been a clever woman, Margaret, but I dont recognise you right now.
I just want her to be happy! James loves her!
But does she love him? Violet gave a small smirk. Or does her opinion not count?
I know whats best for her! She doesnt know herself yet!
I disagree. She wants to be a surgeon. Sounds brilliant to me. Whats the problem?
She can study, fine! But only after she settles down! Then Ill be at peace!
How will that help? Really, Margaret, you need to let go. This marriage would be a cage for hera fancy one, maybe, but still a cage. Not her choice. Yours.
Its a waste of breath arguing. The wedding will go ahead.
Violet only grinned. You really dont know your daughter at all. Shell surprise you.
And she did. After that heated talk on the verandah, Elizabeth gathered her things and moved in with her gran, which absolutely devastated her mother. Margaret never forgave her, went silent on calls, never visited, and even learnt Elizabeth had passed her entrance exams and got into medical school from Edward, not her own daughter.
Maybe its time you called a truce, Maggie. Isnt it better to have your daughter here with you, alive and well, than cry alone every night? Lets fix things, please. I was with them yesterday. She asked after you. She worries, you know.
Oh, of course. I bet she doesnt care at all!
Edward, ever patient, finally lost his cool. This is too much! Shes your childyour own flesh and blood! You wished for her for so long, wanted her so much! Now you push her away, so carelessly, so cruelly! Cant you see youre hurting both of you? Why, Margaret, why?!
I dont know! Ive made such a mess of everything Edward, youre rightI cant breathe without her. It hurts so much it feels as though the worlds gone dark, just like when we lost Peter
Enough! Edward shook her gently. Elizabeth is alive! Shes waiting for you! Come on!
Where?
Im taking you to see her. You have to let her live her own life, Margaret. You cant keep her locked up, terrified shell break. Shes strong, let her show you.
Whatever did ithis anger or his wordsMargaret finally listened. The reunion happened. What was said in Violets locked bedroom stayed a secret, but Edward knew by both of their red-rimmed eyes and happy smiles that his girls had made up.
But, you know how fate can never leave well alone? Just as the Parkers had settled, something new happened that even Violet, for all her wisdom, hadnt seen coming.
Dr Parker, theres an emergency appendicitis coming in.
Elizabeth groaned, shook her head and polished off her coffee. Although her shift was almost done, she wasnt passing up the surgery. You need the practice!
You?!
Er, yes. Its me James managed, but bent over double from pain.
Right then. You trust me for this?
With my life!
Crikey, not even a dramatic last will?!
Elizabeth, youre daft.
Very.
And then, three years later, Elizabethll swing open the gate at her parents cottage and set her little boy down on the garden path.
Go on, show Granny how fast you can run! Mum, catch him!
Little Peter will squeal and race for the open-armed grandmother.
My precious boy! Oh, how glad I am to see you!
Mum, hello! Gran around?
Oh yes, shes off to Brighton on a fresh adventurenew romance, I hear!
Classic Granny! Who is he?
Possibly an artist, possibly a sculptor Something artistic anyway. Ask her yourself when shes back. Wheres James?
Parking the car.
Perfect! Sunday roast is nearly done, Dads taking the pie out of the oven. Wash your hands and come to the table! Ill put Peter down for a nap and be right with you!
Oh sure, as if you wont sit there singing songs til he drifts off.
Is that such a crime? Margaret laughs, kissing her grandson.
Not at all, Mum. Its perfect.Elizabeth lingered a moment on the doorstep, listening to the rise and fall of laughter insidea melody more familiar than any shed ever danced to. Something inside her eased, the last stubborn ache of old heartbreaks quietly dissolving as her sons voice drifted out: “Mummy, look at my fast legs!”
She grinned, wiping away the faintest happy tear, and stepped into the hall where the sharp scent of roast mingled with the bright sunlight on polished wood. Behind her, James swept in, flushed from the drive. He pressed a quick kiss to her hair and, together, they slipped into the cozy swirl of family waiting at the tablea round of applause for Peters dash, Edwards exaggerated groan at burnt fingertips, Margaret bustling, half-laughing, half-chiding, Sit, sit, before everythings stone cold!
And for a moment, everything was still and golden: three generations tangled togetherflawed, noisy, fierce with loveeach carrying scars and stories impossible to confess in full, yet somehow, against all odds, finding enough forgiveness to begin again. Elizabeth caught her mothers eye, just long enough to see the stubborn pride and the hard-won tenderness pooled there, a silent peace stronger than any promise.
From the garden, a breeze fluttered the curtains. Elizabeth thought of Violet, gallivanting somewhere wild and bright, never too old for one more pas de deux; of little Peter, feet pounding the grass shed once run on herself; of James, rolling his eyes affectionately at the hubbub; of Edward, carving the roast, humming, thoroughly content.
A family, imperfect and mended, called to the tablewhere there was always another slice of pie, another story waiting to be told, and the promise that whatever the future brought, this noisy, dazzling love would hold.
She exhaled, full to the brim, and joined themat last, completely, entirely, home.
