Jenny was singing with happiness who wouldnt? She finally had her own flat! No more grumpy landlady switching off the lights at eleven, forever hovering and turning off the gas under her boiling saucepan. No more bans on using a hairdryer or straighteners in case she got tangled up in them.
Baths were forbidden, only strict showers once a day, and you had to choose: morning or evening. It didnt matter, Mrs. Williams would be outside hammering on the door, starting a tirade about wasting water. Jenny spent a year under Mrs. Williams thumb, who fancied herself Jennys mentor, and as soon as she turned eighteen she begged her parents to let her move into student halls.
That was a different ordeal altogether the bedbugs and cockroaches were minor annoyances. Once, her frying pan full of potatoes was nicked the moment she turned her back, but at least that was bearable. The real challenge was housemates forever bringing boyfriends round. Jenny endured for a year until her dad came to visit, saw the chaos, and flatly refused to let her live there another day. For five years after that Jenny rented a tiny flat from old Mrs. Turner.
Mrs. Turner, a lovely old thing with some quirks, but kind-hearted. After university, Jenny went to work and lived with Mrs. Turner, painstakingly saving every penny for a deposit on her own place. That was Jennys dream: to buy a flat, even a small one, but hers. While the other girls spent their wages on dates, designer dresses, and handbags, Jenny worked, saved, and skipped the fun.
Even Mrs. Turner would say, Take a break, love, dont work yourself silly! But Jenny pressed on, stubborn and determined.
One day, Jennys parents turned up with a serious look. Her dad cleared his throat and said theyd decided to help he, her mum, and Great-Aunt Edith. Great-Aunt Edith was her dads distant relative, a lifelong primary school teacher who stayed in the classroom until she was eighty-five, infamous for her stern nature and family disputes. The only person shed ever really listened to was Jennys dad.
Edith adored Jennys mum (also a teacher) and cherished her. Once, when Jennys parents brought food shopping, Edith asked them whether theyd help her move into a retirement home. Her dad said nothing, but after visiting the place she was considering, he and Jennys mum quietly offered the spare room in their house for Edith.
If truth be told, my daughter lives in another city, Edith had nodded. Theres no point, Ive always been difficult and its probably better for everyone if I dont ruin our good relationship now. But Jennys parents insisted it meant peace of mind, they said, and anyway, their cat and parrot had to be looked after by friends every time they went away. With Edith at home, shed keep an eye on things, cats, and all, and the whole family could eat together, saving money and petrol. Mum wouldnt be bored alone when Dad was off fishing.
Edith hesitated, then agreed, secretly glad she wasnt all alone in the world after all. She spent several happy years with loved ones and, when it was time, she passed away quietly, leaving her house to Jennys dad. Edith gave Jenny a cherished necklace, an heirloom that had belonged to her own grandmother it had survived many hard years without ever being sold.
Jenny received the necklace with love and often admired it, always remembering Ediths kindness.
Afterwards, her dad suggested selling Ediths house and buying Jenny a place in the city where shed settled. Thats how Jenny finally got her own two-bedroom flat. The previous owner assured her the place carried good energy, and Jenny eagerly began renovations. Her parents often visited to help out, while Jenny came up with fresh ideas and her dad patiently brought them all to life. The transformation was so lovely that Mum decided it was her turn for a home makeover Jenny promised to design everything.
Jenny soon felt at home in her new city and flat, falling in love with them both. At work, she met Sophie, and the two quickly became best friends; Sophie was often popping round for tea.
One day, Jenny reminisced about sneaking onto the roof of her old seven-storey block as a child with her friend Lucy for a bit of sunbathing. Sounds brilliant! Sophie laughed. Why dont we?
The girls exchanged a look and burst out laughing. As long as we dont get locked up there! Once, Lucy and I were up there all afternoon because the caretaker, Mr. Brown a bit hard of hearing locked the door. We shouted and shouted, but he didnt hear. Dad had a feeling and came home early to rescue us.
Did you get in trouble? Sophie asked, curious.
Nah, shrugged Jenny. Dad always spoiled me. Mum was the strict one, but hed cover for me. Half the things I got up to, she still doesnt know about.
Wish I had that! I was always up to mischief, but always caught out. Listen, maybe we should just ask the caretaker for the key and sunbathe in peace?
Lets!
At first, the caretaker, Mr. Jenkins, wasnt keen said hed get in trouble if anyone found out, went on about safety and what if you girls fall? But the girls promised: Were adults! Well be quiet, sunbathe, and leave without anyone knowing. Reluctantly he agreed, and they spent half their Saturday basking up there. Over the next few months, they borrowed the key from kindly Mr. Jenkins several times.
One afternoon, as they were about to leave, they heard the door creak. Peering around a corner, they spotted a well-dressed older lady, immaculate, hair neatly pinned, quietly enjoying a sandwich by the chimney.
Who are you? asked the girls in chorus.
Me? She seemed embarrassed, swallowed her bite, and said, Im Mrs. Robinson.
Jennys face lit up she recognised her. Wait, were you the previous owner of my flat?
Yes, youre the sweet girl who bought my place! Mrs. Robinson blushed, then teared up. She started to tell her story.
I raised my son, Michael, alone. His father left, you know how it goes. Michael was frail as a boy I gave him everything I had. He did well school, university, then a masters. Did well at work too, but never seemed lucky with girls.
Five years ago he started working late and then introduced me to Angela, who quickly moved in. She kept everything spotless, did all the cooking, was wonderful to Michael. I finally relaxed, thinking I could live a bit for myself. Michael had long bought a spacious flat, but chose to keep living with me for convenience. Once he and Angela married, they moved into their own home, and, for the first time, I started living for myself.
But that didnt last. Angela had our grandson, Archie, the apple of my eye, then baby Ollie the next year, and then Grace. After Graces birth, they asked me to sell my flat since I was always at theirs helping with the children, why keep it?
That was the start of my own, small sort of hell. Angela went back to work and left me in sole charge of three energetic toddlers. Coincidentally, I fell ill, my blood pressure rocketed. When the doctor ordered me peace and quiet, I looked for it, but how do you find quiet when three youngsters tear around your house? Angela preferred to handle discipline herself; I was just to feed, dress, read stories, and keep the house immaculate, ready for their return from work.
After laying the table, feeding everyone, washing up, reading stories and getting the kids to bed well, all grannies read bedtime stories! only then would I get a break.
What more do you want, Mum? Michael would grumble if I complained I was exhausted. Youre great at all this! At least were all together, plenty of families cant say the same.
In the summer, they went off to the seaside, leaving me with the children I thought Id never last through it. I adore my grandchildren, but I was utterly exhausted. So I started telling them I was going to see an old friend for the weekend, but really, I just wandered the city and went to museums or exhibitions. Sometimes I’d just sit by the river on a bench, not sleeping the whole night.
Tonight I walked past my old building, and when I saw the door open, I remembered how Michael used to hide from me up on this very roof. I had a mad idea to stay up there overnight.
The girls were appalled, How awful!
Jenny and Sophie insisted Mrs. Robinson come over for a nice cup of tea. Oh, Jenny, youve redecorated beautifully! I do wish I hadnt listened to Michael and Angela those years ago but dont mind me, Mrs. Robinson hurriedly added.
But wait, Sophie interrupted, What happened to the money from the sale? Sorry if its not my place
Dont worry, Sophies a good solicitor, said Jenny, She means well.
It all went to the children, Mrs. Robinson said softly. Michael said hed invest half for me, the rest went to them. But with that sort of sum Sophie calculated, You could buy a one-bedroom in the area, at least.
And we can all help you do it up! added Jenny, full of enthusiasm.
I I couldnt possibly
Leave it all to us. Trust us, insisted Sophie.
Within a month, Mrs. Robinson had moved into her own little flat, right back in her old neighbourhood. Quite what Sophie said at Michaels office, nobody ever knew, but he spent weeks sulking, saying Mum should have told them if life was so hard. Angela huffed and cut off contact with her mother-in-law. The grandchildren soon arranged visits to their Grans for sleepovers, and over time even Angela gave in, with the children happily enrolled at nursery.
Mrs. Robinson and Jenny would visit each other, sometimes giggling over cake, other times heading to museums or galleries together.
No way, said Sophie with a shudder one day, When Im old, Ill stick to my own home no coaxing will move me out, no fear of spending my nights on benches or sneaking round rooftops!
Thats for sure! Jenny agreed.
Good morning, my dears!
Thank you all for being with me!
A great big hug to you!
