I really dont know what to do anymore, Helen sighed quietly, clutching her mobile as she spoke.
Whats happened? Rebeccas voice sounded cautious, the concern clear. A call from her older sister was unusual, and she could sense tension immediately. Normally, they exchanged quick texts, but Helen had insisted on a proper phone call this time.
Mum cant carry on living by herself, Helen began, a hint of reproach in her tone. If you called her more, youd know.
Oh, come off it! Rebecca snapped back sharply. Lets not start. Just tell me what I dont know.
Helen let out a heavy sigh. It was just like her younger sister to get defensiveshed become fiercely independent over the last few years and pushed back at the slightest critique.
Ill remind you, Mums seventy-three now. Her blood pressure is all over the place, shes faint and weak all the time, Helen explained, patiently listing it all. She struggles to cook, to keep the house in order. Im not even mentioning the fact that just popping to the shop for a loaf isnt always possible anymore. Thank goodness for Mrs. Newman, the neighbour, who sometimes brings her things.
Hang on Are you telling me Mums starving? Rebeccas voice turned sharp, anxious.
No, of course not! Every fortnight I go round, take her everything she needs. Im not talking about that. I mean Mum cant cope without outside help anymore. What if she fell? Broke something? Wed really struggle to look after her, given well, her size.
There was a stretch of silence as both sisters pictured it. Even in her younger years, Margaret Smith had been on the plump side, and over time shed put on more weight. Despite health issues, she loved her food and got genuinely upset if her daughters hinted about cutting back.
And shes dreadfully lonely, Helen pressed on softly. Nearly cries every time I have to leave. Says weve all abandoned her Its just unbearable.
So what exactly do you want? pressed Rebecca, choosing her words carefully. With every year, discussions with Helen grew harder.
I think you should move in with her.
Oh, thats rich! And why cant you move in, Helen? Hmm? Let me guessyour wonderful, golden husband David, and your darling little stepson, barely twenty-five, need you, right?
Rebecca, whats the point?
The point is, youre always making decisions for everyone else! You dont give a toss about me! Rebecca almost shouted.
Helens own frustration flared. And when Mum ran herself ragged between Dad and us, coming in from the village with groceries, watching over Emily so youthe favouritecould work or just rest, that suited you fine, didnt it? No complaints then?
Rebecca fell quiet, the words hitting home. It was the truth. After her short-lived marriage ended and her mother-in-lawlovely old dear as she wasallowed Rebecca and young Emily to stay in her flat until Emily turned eighteen, shed depended on her parents support. Emilys father was good as useless, sending token maintenance payments. Rebecca had to hustle to make ends meet.
But did that mean Helen would throw it in her face forever? Her ex-mother-in-law kept her word, didnt kick them out until Emily grew upbut then, with her daughter in college and dating, Rebecca had decided to head for London for work, finding rooms to rent, jobs wherever she could manage.
And now, years on, she was settled, more or less content, and the idea of returning to the sleepy village was out of the question.
And youd know all about raising a child alone? Rebecca snapped, knowing it was low, but unable to resist. Try living like I did and then tell me off.
Now Helen was the one silenced by the memory. Her own life had started off so welluniversity in the county town, accountants job lined up, dreams of a good match. The men never panned out: either they drank, were mummies boys, or spongers. Not until she was thirty-nine did she meet Davida widower, three years older, with a ten-year-old boy, Ethan.
David was an electrician, handy at everything, picking up work from folk all over the neighbourhood. He was sober, reservedstern, evenbut meticulous to a fault. Helen had fallen utterly for him, devoted herself for fourteen years of marriage, striving to make him happy. Shed hoped for a child of her own, but it hadnt happened, so David and Ethan became her whole life. She couldnt bear the thought of letting that go.
Id have her live here, I really would, Helen said at last, her voice raw. But she wont hear of it.
Rebecca laughed bitterly. Really? And David, your beloved paragon, would welcome his mother-in-law into his two-bedroom flat with open arms? Or did you not tell him, just in case, knowing full well Mum would turn you down anyway?
Arent you tired of sniping? Lets be serious, Rebecca. This is important.
Weve said enough. Rebecca hung up, abrupt and cold.
Helen stared at her phone, fingers clenched white around it. The best solution would have been for Rebecca to come home. She could have helpedHelen could support with money, food, even find Rebecca remote work, thanks to the decent internet in the village. But, as ever, her little sister was determined to make life difficult. Spoilt as a child, spoilt now, and there was no changing her mind.
The following day, a curt text arrived: Spoke to Mum. Says shes perfectly fine and doesnt need helpers. Stop making a drama!
Helen didnt replywhat was the point? Rebecca phoned their mother, at best, once a month. Margaret never complained to her, just thrilled young Becca thought of her, not wanting to upset the baby of the family who would be quick to drop contact altogether
Helen, however, listened to Mums woes every week, and lost sleep over them. Even David, usually oblivious to her moods, had noticed: Is something wrong?
Shed meant not to worry him with these burdens, but something had to give. She couldnt afford a carer.
Three months into sleepless nights, David slammed his mug down at breakfast. Youve been out of sorts for ages. Now, Helen, whats going on?
Unexpected tears sprang to Helen’s eyes. She steeled herselfnot wanting to show weaknessbut she gave him the short version.
Why didnt you tell me about your mother? Davids eyes were serious.
I didnt want to bother you she muttered.
He stood abruptly. Right. Thanks for dinner. Im off to bed.
He didnt stay to watch the BBC news, as was his ritual. Helen tossed and turned all night.
On Saturday, she overslept, panicking about breakfastalways served at the same time. But David was at the table, calm, reading something on his phone.
Youre up? he glanced at her, his tone even, but firm.
Sorry, Ill have breakfast ready in a tick
Sit down. We need to talk.
Helen eased onto the wooden chair, heart thudding.
Ive been thinking, David began, steady and deliberate. We cant leave your mother like this. Its not right. My own mum didnt live long enough for old age Anyway, were moving in with her.
Helen stared, floored. David Are you sure?
Absolutely. And dont think Ive forgotten how Margaret doted on Ethan during holidays, how she treated me like her own. Memorys not so bad. Truth be told, Ive always fancied living in the countryside. Thats if your mother doesnt object.
Helens breath caught. Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she expected this from her steadfast David. Was she dreaming?
What about Ethan? she whispered.
Ethan? David chuckled. Grown lad now, job and all. Hell only be glad to have the flat to himself.
Oh, David! Helen flung her arms around him, breaking into a sob and not caring that he never liked such displays.
He didnt pull away; he patted her shoulders gently as if he, too, was a touch moved.
There now, he soothed, itll be alright.
Helen clung to hope, clinging to his words as if to a lifeline.
