“For the Sake of Grandson, Despite the Deception”
“I only wanted to help my kids, to look after my grandson. I knew money was tight for them, so I told my daughter-in-law to go back to work,” sighs Eleanor Whitmore with a heavy heart.
At fifty-five, she’s on disability pension, scraping by on a meagre income. Her son’s all grown up, and her younger daughter is at university, juggling studies and odd jobs to chip in.
“My son’s been married six years. Right after the wedding, he and his wife took out a mortgage. I told them to start with a one-bed—no need to bite off more than they could chew—but they went for two. I couldn’t help; I was barely managing myself. And her parents? Not a penny to spare—they’ve got money troubles of their own,” shares Eleanor, who lives in the quiet town of Pinebrook.
She knew her daughter-in-law Emily’s family wasn’t exactly rolling in it. That didn’t bother her, but Emily’s relatives were another story.
“Emily’s gran never worked a day in her life but somehow raised five kids. Lived off her garden and a few chickens—always skint. Only her mum, my son’s mother-in-law, made something of herself. The rest? Well, let’s just say they didn’t exactly climb the ladder,” Eleanor recalls.
The eldest son drank himself to an early grave. The middle daughter’s doing time for theft. The youngest brother vanished off the map years ago. And Emily’s older sister, Sophie, still clinging to her mum like a limpet.
“That Sophie married some layabout. No kids. He’s in prison—three years down, three to go. But she’s young, wants to live a bit,” Eleanor explains.
Before her husband got locked up, he racked up debts, which now fall to Emily’s mum to pay. Sophie’s back with her parents, claiming disability benefits just to get by. She works, but her wages barely cover groceries and bills.
Emily’s mum, Helen, begged Sophie to divorce him so some debts could be pinned on him. But no—she’s smitten, ready to follow him off a cliff. Then came another bombshell:
“Our kids are doing alright, I’m glad for that. But me and my husband? We’re splitting up,” Helen dropped on Eleanor out of the blue.
“I was gobsmacked. All those years, and then—poof! Turns out he ran off with some younger woman with three kids in tow, left his family high and dry,” Eleanor shakes her head.
Soon after, Emily showed up at Eleanor’s door, fretting about money—her husband, James, had lost his side gig. She’d been offered part-time work and begged Eleanor to look after little Oliver.
“Who else was going to help? Helen’s working, my daughter’s studying, and the rest of the family only cares about themselves. I told Emily I wasn’t sure I could handle it—Oliver’s a right handful! But she started crying, and—well, what could I do?”
In the end, she agreed, but only at her own flat. Ground floor, fenced garden—perfect for toddling about. And since Emily lived close by, dropping Oliver off was no hassle. Eleanor gritted her teeth, took her painkillers, and got on with it.
Then one day, Oliver came down with a bug, and Eleanor had to stay at her son’s place. Peeking in the fridge, she nearly fell over—it was emptier than a politician’s promises. Just then, James burst in to change before heading out.
“Emily’ll be back soon, ta-ra!” he said.
“Where are you off to?” Eleanor frowned.
“Extra shift, covering for someone.”
“And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks,” she says, voice trembling. “They’d all been lying! Emily wasn’t working for the mortgage—she was bailing out her sister! James was killing himself with two jobs, I was wrecking my health, and my daughter-in-law was rescuing her deadbeat family!”
Eleanor was livid. She confronted her son, but he defended his wife, insisting she was doing it for *their* family. How could she look him in the eye and lie like that?
She knew the row would sour things. Might not even get to see Oliver again. But letting Emily’s cheek go unchallenged? Not a chance. Her heart ached with betrayal, but the truth mattered more.
