Good Intentions
Tina! At last! I was worried sick! Margaret opened the door and swept her elder sister into a hug. Im absolutely beside myself. I havent a clue what to do!
First things first, calm down, said Thérèse, large and unflappable as ever, rolling into the hallway with the majestic serenity of a herd of elephant seals. Is she at home?
Shes not! She left this morning with the boys and hasnt been back since! Margaret flapped her hands helplessly. Wont listen to a word I say. Shes in love, apparently.
Well, what do you expect me to say, Mags? You took your eye off the ball and now the girls got the bit between her teeth. No use crying over spilt milk, lets sit down and you tell me everything. Then well see whats what.
Thérèse glided on into the kitchen and, choosing a seat, eyed up her sisters tea-making like a seasoned watchdog.
Rinse the kettle with boiling water first! Ive been teaching you that since the Magna Carta and it still never sticks.
Margaret jumped, grabbed the kettle, fumbled and promptly burnt the tips of her fingers, clutching at her ear-lobe dramatically.
Heavens above, you never did have the knack, did you? Here, let me. Sit, before you take half your face off.
Thérèse gently nudged Margaret to the table and took up the kettle with the competence of a professional.
There. Now spill. And dont skip a single detail. Who is he? What do we know? Whats this Jack doing to make you so jumpy?
Margaret wrapped her hands around her steaming mug. Where to begin? She honestly couldnt say, even to herself, what unsettled her so much about the whole affair. The chap her youngest daughter, Laura, had introduced seemed perfectly decent. Not a drinker, heaven forbid, polite, had his own businessa garage, to be sure, but at least it was honest work. Handy, toothe kitchen tap, which had been dripping for a month (even after two plumbers had a go at it), seemed finally to have met its match.
Still, Margaret was so used to seeing her youngest as a source of worry, thanks to her sisters running commentary, that it would take more than good intentions and working taps to convince her Laura knew what she was doing. The way they met was odd. What sort of man, making a living from fixing cars, fixes a total strangers car, in a snowstorm, for nothing, just because shes stuck with two boys? And then keeps checking on them, every weekend for six months, to make sure everyones all right? And Laura had clearly lost her head, paying no heed to her children or her motherjust wanted to marry him! Not as though the first time had done her much good.
She poured all this out and waited for Thérèse, whose judgement she trusted more than her own. Margaret had always been the little tail to her big sister, who all but raised her. Their father had died early and their mum, Mrs. Catherine, soldiered on as best she could, working all hours and leaving a lot to Thérèse.
Thérèse, youre the eldest! You must help!
There was eight years between them. When their mother discovered she was expecting again, shed laughed in disbelief, then promptly panicked. It was difficult enough with one, and managing on little. But the husband and eldest daughter assured her:
Well manage!
And Catherine believed them, keeping the child. Little Margaret was sickly, in and out of the surgery, and in all that time Thérèse stuck by her side. Their mother would braid Margarets hair, rushing about before work:
Youre a little guardian angel, Thérèse, even if no one believes in them. I dont know what Id do without you!
Blushing with pride, Thérèse took Margaret to nursery on her way to school, taught her her letters and numbers long before Year One, so when she missed most of her first year with illness, it wasnt the end of the world. Doctors tutted but were optimistic:
Give her time. Shell grow strong with care.
And back in rode Thérèse with her regime of vitamins, medicines, naps, and the mandatory glass of milkalways with Margaret carrying on about the skin on top.
Horrid stuff, tastes like regret!
Oh hush! Itll make you stronger, and Im not having you out of class for a sniffle!
Margaret wept and protested, but the milk went down every time.
The doctors, it turned out, were right. By Year Two, Margaret was almost keeping up, and by the end of school, Catherine summoned her eldest, now married herself and expecting her first, to discuss her future.
She should carry on her studies. Be such a shame to waste a head like that, Mum.
I cant afford it on my own.
Who said youd have to?
The grant was meagre, but Margaret had never been flashy. Thérèse came once a month, bearing bags of food and inspecting the student digs.
Whats with the dust? Have you grown trotters in my absence?
Margaret always cleaned up in a panic before her sister arrived but could never quite pass muster.
Catherine grew ill during Margarets second year. Shed only just managed to confess her new boyfriend, red-faced, when the dire news arrived.
Thérèse! What do I do?
You? You focus on your studies. Keep your head. And say nothing to Mum, you hear? Ill handle everything.
Margaret only had a week to say goodbye to her mother, bottling up all tears for her mothers sake and, in moments alone, biting on a wooden spoon brought back from Devon by her father to stifle her own cries. The sister seemed the only composed one among them, hustling Margaret about:
Stop your blubbing! She needs peace, not you wailing in the corridor.
Margaret felt ashamed that she couldnt keep it together.
Mrs. Catherine died early in the morning, holding her youngests hand. Margaret gagged with the realisation her mother was goneand finally, out poured all the tears shed bottled for so long. After the funeral, the sisters decided to split the family flat; Margaret got a cosy one-bed near Thérèse.
Lucky youre so close by, said Thérèse, eyeing up the walls. Dont invite anyone over. Ill have this place sorted in no time. The girls will help.
Thérèses building firma rarity in those dayswas in high demand for being fastidious and trustworthy. Over time, she expanded it, though not as swiftly as shed hoped.
You cant copy-paste my brain and hands onto every job. The new ones, I dont know how they passed school, let alone got hired. At least at home, things are sound. How are the boys?
Margaret came over all apologetic, giving detailed updates. Ever since shed marriedagainst her sisters advice, as the groom was not on Thérèses Christmas card listMargaret felt always at fault. Thérèse was her judge and jury and it was the first time Margaret had done anything her way.
Max turned out to be sharper than he looked, and after three years of frosty relations, he finally won Thérèse overby methods Margaret chose not to speculate aboutand was pronounced not a bad chap. He valued his family, loved his daughters, adored his wife, and brought home every last penny. The only thing that made Thérèse grimace was the way Max was with the girls. He devoted all weekends to them.
Wrong way round, that is. Hell spoil them rottenyoull have a right rabble by the time theyre grown.
Margaret nodded obligingly, though in truth thought her sister was a bit enviousher own Alex could never be dragged into childcare, even with wild horses.
Sure enough, when Thérèses son started going off the rails, she had to manage on her ownAlex just snorted:
You raised him your way. Now you sort him out your way. I pay the bills, dont I? Raising them is your job.
Thérèse sighed, but didnt argue. She sorted her son with her typical efficiencysent him to the army after school, advised by a regular client.
Theyll soon shape him up. Bit of discipline is just what he needs.
Surprisingly, he liked itand often joked:
Mums Chief General. No wonder I felt at home.
No sooner had she relaxed about her son, than her daughter announced:
Mum, Im going to have a baby.
Thérèse drooped onto the sofa.
How can that be? Youve only just turned eighteen!
So what? Im an adult now. Dont start with the lectures, all right?
What lectures? Its done now, isnt it. Looks like we need a wedding.
No needhe doesnt want to marry.
Well, that just wont do! declared Thérèse, woken from her stupor. My grandchild will not be growing up without a father! Dont worry, love. Ill sort it.
The daughter didnt doubt her for a secondwho else could sort out such a mess? Only her mum.
The wedding happened a month later and Thérèse set the newlyweds up in Margarets old flat.
Off you go! And I want peace and quiet, mind.
Whether it was Thérèses bark or her steadfast help, the young couple found their feet and, finally, Thérèse breathed out. Her children were settled. Time for a rest.
If only. No sooner had she put her feet up than trouble started in Margarets brood.
Margarets daughters were lovelysturdy, healthy, nothing like Margarets ill childhood.
Theyre little marvels! Touch wood! Margaret would crow, watching the girls play tag with their father. Youd hardly believe theyre mine. Not a sniffle between them. Remember me as a child, Thérèse? These twopure pony, the pair of them!
Good. If only they were clever as well, youd have the perfect set.
Theyre not short of a brain cell! Both do well at school and in their clubs. Only, theyre chalk and cheese, looks-wise. Susan takes after mesort of faded. Laura is all her fatherbright as buttons and a right firecracker.
Keep your eye on that one or shell be trouble, youll see.
Born a year apart, Margaret, with her sisters blessing, put them in the same year at school to make life easier.
It was, for Susanshe struggled, but Laura tutored her with ease. Max couldnt have been prouder.
My girls are the best in England!
But bliss rarely lasts. When the girls hit the third year of secondary, Max was killed in a car crash. Margaret and the girls kept vigil at the hospital but, despite being fit and healthy, he just didnt pull through.
My poor girls! whispered Thérèse, hugging them. Dont worry, Aunties here, and Mum, well muddle through.
Susan and Laura barely dared glance at their mother. It was like the colour had seeped out of Margaret. She grew haggard, snappish; she stopped noticing her children. Waking at night, shed scream so horribly the girls started sneaking into her bed, hugging her from either side, hoping shed remember they were still there. She seemed in danger of forgetting.
Thérèse, never shy of stepping in, staged the necessary showdown.
What do you think youre doing?! The girls have lost their fatheryou want them to lose their mother too? Is your grief the only grief that matters? Theyre shadows of themselves, Margaret! Snap out of it!
Margaret just stared dully. Max seemed so close, just in the other room She was sure, if she waited, hed poke his head round the door, wink, Whos hungry?
Thérèse watched her, sighed, and hugged her:
Hes gone, darling, hes not coming back But your girls are here. Remember how much Max loved them. Think about what hed say if he saw the way youre treating them now.
Eventually, Margaret found her way back, and the girls glimpsed her smile againif not quite so brightly.
Towards the end of the sixth form, both girls fell in lovealmost in sync. Susan, after a tearful earful from Auntie T, changed her mind at once.
Plenty of time for that. Auntie knows best.
Laura, though, set her jaw.
I love him!
Loves all well and good! But whats that get you? Marriage to a snotty-nosed boy with nothing to his name? Tell medid you, or didnt you?
Thats my business, not yours, Auntie! Laura squared up, sick of her aunt bossing everyone about.
Laura might have been feisty, but it got her thinking. She and Serge had kept things above board so far, but she was sure it wouldnt last.
What am I to you? Entertainment? she challenged him one day.
Course not! I love you!
Well if you love me, marry me.
I just have to talk to my folks
Oh, Serge, how about using the grown-up word, eh? Par-ents. Go tell them and dont come round here until youve sorted it.
Had Margaret been there, shed have whistled. Just like Thérèse, that one!
There was no arguing with Laura when she made her mind up. They married a year later. Margaret spent the wedding in tears, and Thérèse, still fuming, had to bite her tongue watching Laura kiss her new husband.
Whats the rush? Were their hair on fire?!
She was sure Laura was pregnantshe wasnt. First son turned up two years later, after Laura finished university (with her mothers and now-married sisters help), going straight into work because her father-in-law got her a job in his accountancy firm.
Shes smart and shes familywhat more could you ask for?
By the time she fell pregnant again, she was chief accountant, Serge had started his own company, and money was flowing more than nicely.
Margaret was delightedexcept, sometimes, Thérèse managed to dampen her spirits:
Its all too neat. Lauras temper will ruin the lotitll be you left to mop up once shes torched the place.
Margaret kept quiet; there was more criticism than congratulations in Thérèses voice. She put it down to her sisters own children not doing so well.
Everythings fine! Mind your own house, why dont you?
Margaret didthough troubles never that easily dodged. It came from nowhere this time. Serge, whod become the busy businessman, had an affair. Laura found out in the most humiliating way. Shed thought he was just distant because of the new babyarranged date nights, but no, something was off. After confronting him to no avail, fate delivered her answer: on an afternoon in the park, a heavily pregnant woman sat down next to her.
Youre Laura, arent you? the woman askedher eyes steely and not a trace of a smile.
Yes, Laura said warily.
Im Liz. Serges true love. Your ex.
Laura, momentarily stunned, surprised herself by laughing.
Well, thats jolly. And the baby?
His, obviously. A boy. Liz stroked the bump. I hope youre considering the divorce.
Not really. Why do you ask?
My child needs a father!
Of course. And what about his other two children?
Oh, dont get clever! wailed Liz, struggling to her feet. Sort it out. Im due in a month.
Laura watched her waddle off, fighting tears; her eldest son peered into her face.
Mum, are you crying?
No! Just got something in my eye, darling. Go play, lunch in a bit.
Serge didnt deny anything.
Youve changedalways busy, always with work or the kids. Im only human.
Could have fooled me, said Laura drily.
The divorce was brutal. Serge became an entirely different person, contesting every clause, turning settlement into a tawdry game. Laura stopped recognising the man shed married. The flat was sold, child maintenance settled. And that was thatshe was free. Even her ex-father-in-law quietly asked her to resign.
You understand
She only smiled. His shame was obvious; she told him, You want to see your grandkids, you know where to find us.
She left without looking back at his apology.
She never cut her children off from Serges parentsthey still spoiled the boys as ever. For the first few weeks, the boys were nonplussed about Dad not being there every evening, but they soon adjusted.
Margaret fussed and panicked but helped with the boys while Laura got back on her feet. Any time Thérèse started haranguing about poor behaviour and their mother always being out, Margaret tried to defend her.
Theyll learn everything in good time. Lauras working, thats all.
Till nine at night? Funny place, this career of hers, and where are the boys? Mother needed at home, not elsewhere.
Oh, dont say things like that!
Youll see. Shell bring home some new man and youll be stuck minding the boys.
Dont, Thérèse.
Youll see!
Margaret didnt want to believe it, but then Leon popped upand all those fears circled like sharks.
What do I do now?
Time to talk sense into her! Two kids, and shes chasing her hormones. What do we know about him? Lauras hardly poor: flat, car, good income. He could be a gold digger!
Thérèse
Why not? Someone needs to check!
How?
For a start, talk to Laura.
She wont listen. Ive tried everything. She just smiles and insists hes wonderful.
Right! Grown so tall but wisdoms passed her by. Give me the phone.
Thérèse called her niece: Your mothers not well. Thats your doing. Get over herenow.
Laura dropped everything and dashed through the rain.
Leon, Mums not well, I have to go!
Shall I drive you?
No, stay with the boys. Feed them, get them to bed. Ill call.
Dashing across midnight London, Lauras heart was in her mouth. What if it was serious? She thought of phoning Susan but remembered she was expecting again and didnt want to worry her.
Margaret opened the door and looked away.
Mum!
Im all right.
Then why?
In the living room, please.
Thérèse sat Laura down and delivered her piece.
If you cant see sense, Ill have to take the boys. Cant have their mother gallivanting about while they watch you ruin yourself!
Laura felt the last string of her patience snap. She stood, straightened her skirt, and shot back:
Auntie, dont you have your own problems? Or do you just have some divine right to lecture me like a schoolgirl? Im a grown woman now and I make my own decisions.
Then act like it!
Thats exactly what I will do. No more reports, no more approvals. You stay out of my family! And maybe sort your brood out instead. At least Susan gets a breakpoor thing, late marriage, trouble with children. Always so meek. But you know what? Maybe if you focused on your own family, youd all be happier.
How dare you! Thérèse thundered, leaping up. Cheeky girl! Who gave you permission to speak to me like that?!
I did. And Im not taking it back. Im done being your scapegoat.
Scapegoat? asked Margaret, raising her eyebrows.
She means goat, not sheep, Mum. When something goes wrong, its all my fault. Well, Im all grown up and Im not playing anymore.
Youre raving! Thérèse exchanged a look with Margaret. Youve lost your marbles.
No more than you have, Laura fastened her coat. You might want to rethink your life. Both of you. I may not be perfect, but Im not an idiot either. All this controllinggood intentions paving the road to well, you know.
Maybe I should check up on you after all? said Thérèse, head angled, eyeing her niece.
Enough! snapped Margaret, pale. Thats going too farstop it! Laura
She grabbed her chest and slid to the floor. Laura rushed to her, fumbling for her phone. Thérèse, mouth open for another rebuke, caught herself. For a moment, she saw her little Margaret, just a child again.
Laura! Call 999!
Ellen (as she was called officially, though only her sister called her Laura) dialled. Margaret was taken to hospital.
Next morning, the entire family bundled into A&E. Thérèse sidled up to Laura, awkward.
Apologies accepted, Laura said, with a tiny smile.
Ellen, sweetheart
No need, Auntie. Best we focus on Mum now.
Margaret recovered. She would reconcile with her sister in the hospital, then flatly refuse to tolerate any further lectures about her daughters. Thérèsein timelearned her lesson.
And at Laura and Leons wedding, it was Thérèse who hollered for a kiss with a hearty, Kiss! Kiss! then embraced her niece and wished her well, muttering, Forgive me.
In the end, life sorts out its own messes. Laura would nurse Thérèse through two operations, Leon would drive her to appointments and help with her mobility, and at the last, Thérèse would squeeze Lauras hand and say:
Youve got yourself a proper man, old girl. Hold him tight, you hear?
Will do, Auntie, Laura would smile.
And when the final hour came, it would be Laura by Thérèses side, hearing her last words:
Thank you.Love you, all of you. Even when I got it wrong. Then with a sigh, softer than milk on the stove, she was gone.
They said the rain stopped as Thérèse slipped away, and London sky broke open with shy blue, like forgiveness. Laura kissed her aunts hand and let a hot tear fall, which rolled down the weathered knuckles to the wedding band.
Later, at the gathering in Margarets little kitchen, Laura tiptoed through stories and laughter, the air thick with memories and the clink of teacups. The boys argued over biscuits; Susan tucked a sprig of rosemary into a photo frameremembrance. Margaret, looking frail as spun sugar, but upright, reached for Lauras hand.
All that fuss, all those good intentions, eh?
Laura smiled, touching Margarets shoulder. We needed the fuss, Mum. Sometimes loves just messycomes in shouting, stays for years, leaves its fingerprints on every cupboard door.
Margaret nodded, watching the steam curl in the sunlight. Suppose Id rather have all that than a quiet house and nobody at my table. Even if it means burnt fingers, and the wrong sort of menand the right ones, if youre lucky.
The kettle whistled. Leon wandered in, the boys hanging off his arms. He set them down, kissed Lauras cheek, and grinned at Margaret.
Tea, Mum?
And as they bustled around, voices rising and falling, Laura felt something gently settle inside her heart. Loss, love, mistakes, forgivenessa muddled, beautiful inheritance, handed down like her grandmothers wooden spoon. Imperfect, but fiercely theirs.
At the end of the day, with the sky blushing gold through the windows, Laura stepped into the garden. The boys chased dandelions; Leon called from the doorway. She closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of earth, and smiled at the thought of all those good intentions, paving not a road to anywhere gloomy, but the winding, unruly path home.
Wind pressed softly through the leavesThérèses voice, almost: Go on, girl, its your turn now.
Inside, laughter spilled into the evening, and the teacups clinked, and lifestubborn as alwayswent on, glorious and flawed, and entirely enough.
