Diary, 14th October
Fetch me some water! My throats parched, Ive been calling you for an hour already! All I hear is you rattling those pots do you bang them on purpose so you dont have to listen to me?
That shrill, cracked voice from the back room jolted me nearly dropped the ladle. I took a slow breath, counting to ten, something Ive started doing since I moved into this madhouse three years ago. The kitchen stank of boiled chicken and medicines a smell thats seeped into every curtain and wallpaper. I switched off the hob, poured a glass of cooled boiled water never cold, never hot, always just-so and went to my mother-in-laws bedroom.
Mrs. Edith Parker, propped up on a mountain of pillows, looked rather like an old, irritable bird. Her watery blue eyes tracked my every move. On her bedside table, among a jumble of pill bottles, blisters and crossword books, sat a thick brown envelope. Id never seen it before.
Here you are, Mrs. Parker drink, I said, keeping my voice even, trying not to sound exasperated. Sorry, I didnt hear you extractor fan was on. The chicken stocks ready, Ill blitz your veg as the doctor ordered.
She took some tiny sips, grimacing as if it were vinegar, and pushed the glass aside.
You always have excuses, she muttered, dabbing her mouth with a corner of the sheet. Its the fan, the Hoover, chatting on the phone. My sons mother is left to rot of thirst.
Dont say that, Im always here, I replied, letting the words roll off me. As I straightened her sheet, my eyes dipped to the envelope again. The corner of a stamped document poked out.
Whats that, then? New doctors orders? I nodded towards it. Tell me if you need anything from Boots.
Her hand darted out, surprisingly quick for someone whod moaned about not being able to lift a spoon thirty minutes before, and covered the envelope.
Leave it be! she barked. None of your business. Personal papers.
I blinked, startled. Normally Edith demanded I pore over every medical note, every council bill, every pension letter. This secrecy was new.
I was only asking I began, but the front door slammed and heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.
Wills home! Ediths face transformed, replaced with a sickly-sweet smile. Son, come to your mother, save me from this jailer!
Will, my husband, entered, looking drained suit rumpled, tie askew. Hed become Head of Sales, but spent longer and longer at work, avoiding the hospital atmosphere and Mrs. Parkers constant complaints.
Hello Mum. Hello, Ellen, he mumbled, pecking Ediths cheek and ignoring me. Whats happened now what jailer? Ellens always fussing over you.
She fusses while waiting for me to die, so she can take my place. You dont see it? Her eyes cold, empty. No love, just duty.
I felt a pain at my throat. Three years ago, after Ediths stroke, we had to choose: live-in carer or care home. Neither were affordable, and Will refused the home what would people say, abandoning my own mum? So I resigned from my beloved library job, moved Edith from her two-bed flat to our three-bed, and we started renting her place to cover her endless medication and physiotherapy.
Ill lay the table, I whispered, leaving the room.
During dinner, Will pushed his food around with his fork.
Is it good? I ventured, hoping for some warmth.
Its fine. He didnt look up from his phone. By the way, Mum wants me to invite Julia over. Says she misses her.
Julia Ediths niece, daughter of her late sister. Loud and heavily made-up, but useless at anything practical. She appeared twice a year, brought cheap cakes that Edith couldnt eat because of her diabetes, gossiped for an hour, left behind her sickly perfume and dirty dishes.
Why? I asked, surprised. Ediths blood pressure is up and Julias a whirlwind. Shell get her agitated again.
Mum insists. Says she has some business with Julia. Let her come tomorrow; just grin and bear it for an hour.
Next day, Julia swooped in at noon, shoes still muddy from outside, traipsed straight over my cleaned carpet and at once exclaimed, Ellen, hi! Youve filled out, havent you? The dressing gown makes you look huge. Wheres Aunt Edith? Ive brought treats!
She brandished a bag of marshmallows Edith shouldnt touch, not with her blood sugar.
I pointed at the bedroom door. Julia disappeared inside, the room quickly filled with an excited whisper, punctuated by Ediths sniffles. I retreated to the kitchen to avoid it, busying myself with sorting lentils, but worried. That mysterious envelope haunted me.
After an hour, Julia emerged, beaming, clutching the brown envelope. She tucked it into her generous tote with careless ease.
Well, Im off business calls! Ediths asleep, dont wake her. Youre doing well, Ellen, everythings clean. Though Id change those curtains, so outdated.
And, like that, she was gone.
That evening, while changing Ediths bedding a back-breaking task given her weight and reluctance to help I dared to ask:
Mrs. Parker, what papers did you give Julia? Need me to copy anything? Does the council need anything?
Edith gave me a sly look, triumphant.
That is, dearie, my gratitude. Julias my only true soulmate; she loves me selflessly, not for my flat or inheritance. Bloods thicker than water.
I felt ice inside. Which flat? The two-bed, right? The rent pays for your medicines. We agreed later, afterwell, some day, itd go to our children, your grandchildren.
Edith laughed, dry and gravelly.
Agreed, ha! Counting your chickens! I made other plans. The solicitor came today, while you were out shopping. Gift deed, to Julia.
I froze, sheets in hand. The world spun.
A gift deed? Julia? Shes never brought you so much as a glass of water, never bothered with your pills
But she doesnt reproach me! Edith shrieked. You trudge in with your sour face, as if youre doing me a favour! Waiting for me to die, so you can grab my flat! Well, tough luck! Julia owns it now. Officially. Section 6 of the Property Act. Gift deed, no take-backs.
I sank onto the stool. Legs weak. Three years erased injections, nappies, whims, sleepless nights, career thrown away. All for what? To be called a selfish outsider?
What about Will? I managed. Does he know?
Hell find out when the time comes. My property my choice. Now go, heat up the soup, Im hungry. And fix my nappy, its uncomfortable.
I stood, my ears roaring. I left the room silently, pulled on my coat and grabbed my bag and simply walked out. I couldnt stay a minute longer. I needed air.
I wandered aimlessly for hours, freezing, a single word rattling in my mind: betrayal. Not just Ediths Id never expected warmth from her but Wills. The solicitor hadnt come on their own. Someone let them in, someone provided the papers.
When I returned, Will was home, eating soup straight from the pan.
Where were you? he demanded. Mums shouting, nappy soaked Im not supposed to clean her up, am I? Im a bloke, it makes me sick!
I looked at Will for the first time in twenty years, seeing him clear, without the soft focus. In front of me sat not a loving husband, not a pillar, but a selfish, childish man, settled in comfort.
Will, I said softly. Your mum signed her flat over to Julia. A gift deed. Did you know?
Will spluttered, went red.
A gift deed? Youre talking nonsense?
Not nonsense. She told me herself. Julia took the papers today. Solicitor came while I was out. Who let them in? Youve got a spare key. Did you drop by at lunch?
Will looked away, fiddling with crumbs, his shoulder twitching.
WellI did stop by. Mum asked me. Said there was something about her pension needing sorting. I let him in, he looked decent, a lawyer type. I didnt check, Ellen! Had to hurry back to work.
You didnt check? My voice shook. Your mums cut out our children, handed the flat to her niece who never lifted a finger for her, and you didnt check? Wholl pay for her medicines now? No more rent Julia will sell it or move in. With what money, Will? Your salary? Or do you expect me to work again, supporting a woman who spat in my face?
Dont start hysterics! Will banged his fist on the table. Mums ill, probably confused! Well contest it, get her declared mentally incompetent if we must!
Incompetent? I laughed bitterly. You always said she was sharp as a tack when she praised you! And the solicitors no fool hed have demanded her medical clearance. Julias played her cards well.
A shout trickled from the bedroom.
Anyone there? Im soaked! Ellen! Come and clean me!
Will winced.
Ellen, please go. Well sort all this later. She cant lie in her own muck.
Something snapped inside me. That thread holding together my patience and sense of duty gone. I glanced at my hands, rough and red from constant scrubbing. When was the last time Id been to the hairdresser? I remembered longing to see the seaside, but whatll we do with Mum?
No, I said.
What do you mean, no? Will stared.
I wont. I wont clean her anymore. I wont cook pureed soups. I wont listen to the insults. Shes got her flats new owner Julia. According to the law, a gift deed is no-strings-attached, but morally since Julia gets the asset, let her deal with the burden. Call her. Let Julia come and clean.
Youre mad! Will jumped up. Julia wont answer at this hour! She doesnt know how to care for Edith! Ellen, shes my mum!
Precisely. Your mum, not mine. She gifted her flat to her niece. Im just the outsider she called jailer.
I walked to our bedroom, not Ediths. I pulled out my suitcase.
What are you doing? Will was pale, scared.
Im leaving. Moving to my mums, even if its cramped in her little flat at least the air is clean.
Ellen, stop it! Edith acted rashly, we can fix it! Dont abandon us! How will I cope? I work!
Hire a carer. Oh wait no funds, since the flats gone Looks like its up to you. After work. At weekends. At night. Welcome to my world, Will.
I packed garments sloppily: jumpers, underwear, books. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I didnt care. What mattered was leaving.
Ellen, you cant go! Youre my wife! You vowed to be here in sickness and health!
I was there through the sickness, Will. Three years, actually. Never saw the health or happiness. And just so you know, I zipped the suitcase, straightened up, Im filing for divorce.
Over a flat?! Youre so greedy!
Not over the flat, idiot! I screamed. For making me your slave! For letting the solicitor in, betraying me! For thinking about wholl clean your mother instead of apologising!
I rolled the suitcase to the hall. Ediths room echoed with her shrill yowling:
Will! Shes abandoned me! She wants me dead! Bring me water!
Will dashed between me and Ediths door.
Ellen, please just stay one night!
Ill leave the keys on the table, I said coldly. Goodbye.
I stepped out, called the lift. When the doors closed, I pressed my head to the cold mirror and sobbed but the tears were of relief.
The first week at Mums was a haze. I slept for twelve hours a day, ate hearty meals, strolled through the park. I switched off my phone, bought a new SIM for close friends only. News filtered in, though.
Through a mutual friend, I heard Will called Julia. She ignored his calls at first. Then announced, A gift is a gift nothing in the contract about care. She planned to sell the flat for cash, gave tenants two months to vacate, and suggested Edith should enter a state care home if Will couldn’t cope.
Will took unpaid leave. Then sick leave. Then tried to guilt our children both away at different universities to help. They phoned me.
Mum, Dad says you betrayed them, said our son, Ben. But we know you did everything. Were not coming. We have examsand Edith chose Julia, didnt she?
I felt proud. They understood.
A month passed. I started again at the library. The pay was modest, but the peace and scent of books restored me. I filed for divorce. Will never showed up in court.
One evening, coming back from work, Will waited outside Mums flat, looking ten years older, unshaven, grimy, smelling of stale alcohol and that sour tang of frailty I knew too well.
Ellen he stepped forward. Help me. I cant cope. She screams all day. Julia sold the flat, can you believe it? Sold cheap, quickly, to dodgy estate agents. No more rent. Cant afford a carer. I quit work, they let me go
I felt only disgust.
Hows that my problem, Will?
You know howyou know what to do, please, Ellen. Come back Ill forgive everything. Well sell our place, get something smaller, hire someone.
Youll forgive? Shouldnt I be the one forgiving? But I wont.
Ellen, she cries about you. Says you made the best porridge.
She should have remembered me before. When she called the solicitor.
But Julia tricked us! Shes a crook!
She did what she was allowed. Edith tried to buy affection with square footage. The deal was made. The goods delivered. Complaints not accepted.
Youve become so harsh, Will whispered.
No, Ive become free, I corrected. Go, Will. Dont come back. Weve got a court hearing next week hope they finalise the divorce quickly.
I stepped past him, opened the entryway.
Ellen! he called after me. What if I put Edith in a care home? Theres a waiting list, paperwork I dont know how! Help me with it, at least!
I paused, turned.
Try Google, Will. You used to be a manager. Or at least, you thought you were. Youll manage. My shift is over.
I closed the door.
Upstairs, I looked out the window. Will stood on the pavement below; a tiny, pitiful man finally burdened with responsibility, no longer able to shift it onto someone else. I pulled the curtains shut.
The kettle whistled. Mum was baking cabbage pies.
Who was that, darling? she asked, peeking from the kitchen.
Wrong address, Mum, I replied. Just the wrong address.
I sat down at the table, took a hot pie, and bit in. It tasted so good food had flavour again. Life carried on, and now it truly belonged to me. And as for Edith Parker she received exactly what she undeserved: a dear niece with a bank account, and a son learning, at last, to grow up, even if it came at fifty. Justice sometimes you serve it cold, but its no less satisfying.
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