“Mum, not this again!” Emily banged her hand on the table in frustration. “We agreed you’d help with the loan!”
“We agreed no such thing,” Helen replied calmly, stirring her tea. “You decided I’d help. I never promised anything.”
“How can you say that?” Emily’s voice rose. “You said you’d think about it!”
“I did. And I’ve decided not to.”
The kitchen fell silent. Emily stared at her mother, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. Her husband, Daniel, shifted awkwardly by the fridge, clearly uncomfortable.
“Mum, we’re in a tight spot,” Emily tried again, softening her tone. “Daniel lost his job, I’m on maternity leave with Grace. Money’s running out, and the bank won’t wait.”
“And whose fault is that?” Helen set her cup down. “I warned you when you took that loan for the car.”
“What car? It’s barely driveable! We needed something to get around!”
“Plenty of people manage with buses. I took them for forty years—never did me any harm.”
“Mum!” Emily stood up and paced the kitchen. “Are you seriously suggesting we drag a baby around on public transport?”
“Why not? I raised you on my own, working day and night, and never once asked for help.”
Daniel finally spoke up. “Helen, we’re not asking for a handout. We’ll pay you back as soon as I find work.”
“When will that be?” she asked, not unkindly but firmly. “A month? Six? The loan payments are due now.”
“I will find something. I’ve got qualifications, experience.”
“I’m sure you will,” Helen nodded. “But until then, where does that leave me? Am I supposed to live on thin air?”
Emily turned sharply. “Your pension’s decent—£450 a month! We’re only asking for £160 towards the loan. You’d still have £290 left!”
“For what?” Helen pulled out a notebook from the drawer. “Let’s see. Bills—£120. Prescriptions—£60, sometimes more. Food—at least £100. That’s already £280. What about clothes? Repairs? What if I need a private doctor?”
“You don’t buy clothes every month!” Emily protested.
“Shoes? Underwear? What if the washing machine breaks? Where’s the money for that?”
“We’d help then,” Daniel said quickly.
Helen gave him a faint smile. “You’re a good man, Daniel, but you’ll have nothing to spare. You’re asking me now—how could you help later?”
A cry came from the other room. Emily shot her mother a look and hurried out. Daniel stayed, shifting uneasily.
“Helen, I know it’s awkward to ask,” he said quietly. “But we’re desperate. The bank calls every day, threatening to repossess the car.”
“Good,” she said evenly. “You shouldn’t have borrowed beyond your means.”
“But family should help each other.”
“I’ve helped. Raised Emily for thirty years, put her through university, gave her the flat when she married. I thought now was my time to rest.”
Daniel bowed his head. Emily returned, holding Grace.
“Mum, don’t you care about your granddaughter?” Her voice wavered. “What if we lose everything?”
“You won’t.” Helen sighed. “They’ll take the car, that’s all. You’ll still have the flat I gave you.”
“How will we get to work without a car?”
“Like millions do—tubes, buses.”
Emily sank into a chair, clutching Grace tighter. “Why are you being so heartless? You always helped before.”
“Before, I worked. Now I live on my pension—one I earned.”
“But you’re not poor! You’ve got savings!”
Helen’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about my savings?”
Emily flushed and looked away. “I—I saw your passbook once.”
“By accident? It was in a locked drawer.”
“Does it matter? The point is you have money, and we’re drowning!”
“And? That’s my safety net—for illness, emergencies, old age.”
“Our emergency is now!”
“Yours came from living beyond your means,” Helen said firmly. “Mine’s still ahead. When I’m too frail to care for myself—who’ll pay for my care?”
“We will,” Emily swore.
“With what? My own pension after you’ve drained it?”
“We’re not draining it! We just need temporary help!”
Helen shook her head. “No. Ask Daniel’s parents. Or sell the car and buy a cheap one outright.”
“That’s not help—it’s cruelty!”
“It’s sense. The money stays where it is.”
“Why?” Emily’s voice cracked.
Helen hesitated, watching snowflakes outside. “Because I’ve already given all I could—raising you, working double shifts, scraping to send you to uni, giving you a home. My turn’s now.”
“That was your job! You’re a mother!”
“A mother’s duty ends when her child’s grown. Not funding them forever.”
“But what do you need so much money for?”
“To be independent. To call a taxi when my knees ache. To buy Grace birthday presents. To not beg from my own daughter.”
“We’d never let you beg!”
“You already are.” Helen folded her arms. “Now—if you’d had no hope of my help, what would you have done?”
Emily bit her lip. “I don’t know… Borrowed from friends?”
“Or found remote work. Or Daniel could’ve taken any job—warehouse, deliveries. But why bother if Mum bails you out?”
“We are trying! Daniel sends CVs daily!”
“For high-paying roles in his field. Has he tried stacking shelves?”
Daniel reddened. “Helen, I’ve got a degree—”
“So? Honest work isn’t shameful. My dad swept streets after the war. Would you rather earn little than nothing?”
Emily stood abruptly. “Fine. We’ll manage alone. But don’t expect us later when you’re old.”
Helen nodded. “Fair. I’ve my savings.”
“And if they run out?”
“Then a care home. Paid for by me.”
Emily froze. “You’d really do that?”
“Absolutely. I’d rather strangers care for me than burden a family that resents me.”
“We’d never resent you!”
“You would if I bled you dry now. Boundaries are kinder.”
Emily turned to leave, Daniel following.
“Emily, wait,” Helen called.
“What now?”
“Visit often. But no more money talk.”
“And if we’re truly desperate?”
Helen paused. “Then we’ll talk. But prove you’ve tried everything first.”
After they left, the flat was quiet. Helen cleared the cups, then sat knitting by the window. It hurt—but she knew it was right.
Emily needed to stand on her own feet. And she—she’d keep her dignity intact.
Her passbook sat in her dressing gown. Enough to help them ten times over. But if she started now, she’d never stop.
And she refused to spend her last years with a begging bowl.
The phone rang late. Emily’s voice was small.
“Mum… I’m sorry. You were right.”
“About what?”
“We took the easy way. Daniel’s got an interview tomorrow—not his field, but it’s work.”
“Good.” Helen exhaled.
“We’ll sell the car. Buy a cheap one, no loan.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Mum… would you really go to a home if it came to it?”
Helen smiled. “Who knows, love? Life’s unpredictable. But at least we’ll each have choices.”
