Hey love, you wont believe what happened with me and the grandkids yesterday.
Margaret, could you look after the boys? Can we count on you? Susan asked, her eyes pleading at her motherinlaw.
Margaret gave a soft smile as she glanced at her grandsons sevenyearold Oliver and fiveyearold Leo who were already pulling their sneakers into the hallway.
Of course, dear Susan. Dont worry, well have a lovely time together, she replied.
Susan gave the boys a quick kiss on the heads, slipped out the door, and Margaret ran a hand through her silver hair, neatly tied in a bun, then turned to the kids. Oliver was already hauling Leo toward the living room where the telly sat.
Grandma, can we watch cartoons? Leo shouted.
Sure, sweetheart. But first wash your hands and have a bite. Ive made your favourite pancakes with curd, Margaret said, smiling.
The boys squealed with joy and bolted to the bathroom. Margaret headed to the kitchen where a tray of golden pancakes was already on the hob. She loved cooking for them it made her feel useful. Since retiring three years ago, shed often taken the boys in while Susan and Paul were at work or running errands.
She set the table, remembering a chat shed had the day before with her old friend Claire. Claire had moved to Brighton four years ago, nearer the sea, and left her London flat to her daughter Alina. Margaret never liked Alina much the girl had grown spoiled and demanding. At thirtytwo, Alina fancied herself a blogger or something else online, earning a tidy sum, judging by the designer clothes and frequent trips abroad.
Grandma, is there any sour cream? Oliver peeked into the kitchen.
Its in the fridge, sunshine. Want to fetch it yourself or need a hand? Margaret asked.
Ill get it! Oliver declared proudly, swinging the fridge door wide.
They gobbled the pancakes, slathered in sour cream, while Margaret told them about the autumn woods and how she used to go mushroompicking with their grandfather. Leo listened with his mouth open, Oliver peppered her with questions. After breakfast the boys raced off to the TV room, and Margaret started washing up.
The phone rang it was Claire.
Hey, Margaret! Im in London for three days. Come over to Alinas tomorrow; lets have a proper catchup. Ive missed you heaps!
Margarets heart lifted she hadnt seen Claire in over a year, just videocalls.
Id love to, but Ive got the grandkids here. Susan left them for the weekend, Margaret replied.
Just bring them along! The flat is big, theres room for everyone, Claire urged.
Margaret hesitated. She wanted to see her friend, but dragging the two boys around didnt sound ideal.
Alright, Ill let them know to behave, she finally said.
The next morning she dressed the boys a bit nicer Oliver in a blue jumper with a tiny car, Leo in a green hoodie with a dinosaur. She pulled on her best coat, a coffeecoloured one shed saved for special occasions.
Boys, were off to visit my friend. Her daughter Alina lives there, and she has a lot of pricey stuff, so dont touch anything without asking, okay?
Okay, Grandma! they chorused.
Claires flat smelled of expensive perfume and gleamed with pristine white walls. She gave Margaret a warm hug and kissed her cheeks. The sunshine had given her a tan and a slimmer figure, clearly the southern climate had done her good.
Darling, youre a star for coming, Claire gushed. Alinas just stepped out with some errands.
They moved into a huge kitchen with a central island and bar stools. The grandkids clung to Margaret, eyes darting around the delicate glassware, ceramic vases, and sleek appliances.
Heres some juice and biscuits, Claire placed on the table. Feel free to watch TV in the lounge; theres plenty of childrens channels.
Oliver and Leo exchanged a glance, grabbed their glasses of juice, and padded off to the lounge. Margaret watched them go.
Dont worry, theres nothing you can break, Claire waved a hand. Tell me how youve been.
They chatted about health, family, and prices typical talk for women in their sixties. Claire complained that Brightons summer heat was brutal; Margaret mentioned her knee hurting when it rains.
Suddenly a crash erupted from the lounge, followed by Leos startled cries. Margaret sprang up, knocking over her tea cup, and rushed in. On the floor lay a thin silver laptop, its screen split in two. Oliver stood pale as a sheet, Leo sobbed, tears streaking his cheeks.
We we just wanted to watch cartoons, Oliver stammered. It was on the sofa, we thought itd be okay
Alina stormed back in, eyes blazing at the sight of her broken MacBook.
What happened here?! Thats my work laptop! All my projects are on it! she shouted.
Alina, calm down, the kids didnt mean any harm Claire tried to interpose.
Didnt mean? I dont care! This is the latest model, I bought it for £2,500 just a month ago! Two thousand five hundred! Alina shrieked, her voice shaking the flat.
Margaret felt her ears ring from the outburst. Leo clung to her, sniffling. Oliver lowered his head, trying to hide his tears.
Ill cover the cost, Margaret whispered, voice shaking. Im really sorry. The children didnt intend any damage.
Cover it? Seriously? When? I cant wait ten years for you to scrape together a few pounds from your pension! Alina snapped, looking her up and down with contempt. Do you think Ill wait for you to pay me five hundred a month?
Alina, please stop! Claire pleaded, but Alina turned on her.
You stop! You brought these little vandals into my home! I have deadlines, and now everythings ruined! she roared.
Margaret gathered the boys into a hug, holding them tight.
Well be going now, she said, trying to keep her dignity. Ill transfer the money as soon as I can. Just give me your card details.
Alina huffed, then dictated the number. Margaret wrote it down with trembling fingers. Claire walked them to the door, whispering, Dont take it personally, Margaret. Shes just under a lot of pressure at work.
Margaret nodded, though inside she felt a hot sting of humiliation. On the tube, the boys sat quietly, snuggled against her on either side. Back home she fed them soup and tucked them into bed.
That evening the kids parents arrived. Margaret, mustering courage, told them what had happened.
£2,500, she repeated, looking at Susan. Maybe you could help a bit? I know the boys caused trouble, but
Susan listened, lips pressed together. Her flawless makeup didnt hide her icy stare.
Margaret, youre an adult. You took on looking after the children, so you must own up to it. You didnt keep an eye on them now you pay the price, Susan said sharply.
Her words cut deep. Margaret glanced at her son Paul, who was silently putting shoes on the boys.
Paul she began.
Mom, Susans right, Paul muttered without meeting her eyes. You should have watched the kids more closely. Its your mistake.
Her family, the people she loved most, turned away with curt goodbyes.
Margaret shuffled to the kitchen, sat down at the table. Her pension was £190 a month. Council tax £70, food and medication £80, leaving just £40 the bit she usually set aside for gifts and birthdays. No other options left.
At the bank a young female adviser nodded sympathetically as she filled out paperwork. The interest rate was skyhigh, payments set at £120 a month for three years more than half her pension.
She sent Alina the money that same day. Alina barely replied, just a thumbsup emoji.
A month later the grandsons stopped coming. Margaret called Paul, but he gave short answers work, no time, the kids in school. He eventually admitted they didnt want to visit her anymore because she couldnt afford presents or tasty meals.
For Olivers birthday she could only buy a cheap building set. Susan accepted it with a forced smile, as if shed been handed something inappropriate.
Thanks, Margaret, she said. Weve already bought him a console, so
Claire stopped returning calls. Two weeks later she texted, Maggie, sorry, but because of this you and Alina had a fight. She wont talk to me now. Best we dont see each other for a while.
Margaret sat in her small kitchen, phone screen glowing, receipts piled on the table electricity, gas, repair bills, and the loan agreement. The fridge held a carton of milk, a loaf of bread, a handful of rice. Her pension would run out in a week.
Neighbour Nina Ivanova popped in for a pinch of salt, stared at Margarets pale face.
Margaret, why do you look so washed out? Are you ill?
Nothing, just tired, Margaret replied.
And the grandkids? Havent seen them in ages.
Theyre fine, growing up.
Nina left, and Margaret stayed in the dimming kitchen, the lights off to save electricity. Somewhere beyond the wall a television blared childrens laughter, but she sat alone, feeling invisible.
She used to be the goto feeding the kids, helping on the garden, popping into the nursery when parents were busy. Now that shes no longer handy, shes suddenly not needed at all.
