Oh, I’ve got this story about Evelyn Carter—such a sweet woman, but her family really took her for granted. Let me tell you what happened.
So, Evelyn’s daughter-in-law, Sophie, was rushing out the door one morning, touching up her lipstick in the hallway. “Evelyn, there’s a parents’ meeting at Liam’s school at six. You’ll have to go because Daniel and I can’t make it. And don’t worry, I’ll call you at five to remind you.”
Evelyn sighed, stepping out of her room. “Sophie, love, I’d rather you went. My hearing’s not what it used to be, and with all those parents talking over each other, I just get flustered.”
Sophie huffed. “Evelyn, honestly! Daniel’s at work late, and I’ve got reports due. You’re home all day—why is this always such a fuss?”
“I’m not just sitting about, dear. I clean, I shop, I make Liam’s lunch… And I’m sixty-seven, you know.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to guilt-trip me over cooking soup for your grandson? He’s your only grandchild, might I add! Daniel, say something!” Sophie was fuming now.
Daniel, ever the peacekeeper, just shrugged. “Mum, just go, yeah? Sit in, listen. If they ask for money, text me straight away. What’s the big deal?”
Evelyn shook her head. “I can’t today. I’ve got plans.”
“Well, fine then!” Sophie snapped. “While every other kid’s parents show up, ours will be the odd one out. Thanks for ruining my mood!” And with that, she stormed out, slamming the door.
“Exactly—every other kid’s parents,” Evelyn murmured, retreating to her room.
Daniel lingered a moment, adjusted his tie in the mirror, grabbed his laptop, and left too. “Off to work. Liam, don’t be late for school.” Another door slam. Silence.
Twelve-year-old Liam, already dressed, squeezed in a few minutes on his console, headphones on, oblivious to the drama.
…Evelyn sat on her small sofa, staring out the window. In the five years since she’d moved into this tiny room, she’d memorised every detail of the view—the corner of the opposite house, the oak tree, the rose bushes, the bit of playground she could see. Because most evenings and weekends? That’s where she was—just sitting, watching. She’d long felt like an unpaid nanny and housekeeper in her son’s home. And honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
But life hadn’t always been like this…
Evelyn grew up in a modest family, quiet and well-mannered. School, university, her first job—all perfectly ordinary. She didn’t stay in the city after graduating, though. She went back home, got a job at the local factory, and met Geoffrey, the shift supervisor. They married, had Daniel, and for a while, life was good.
She’d wanted a daughter too, but that dream ended when a new technician, Victoria, arrived from London. Smart, glamorous, and—of course—she stole Geoffrey away. He filed for divorce, saying he’d always wanted city life, and here was his chance. Victoria had a flat, connections… So off he went, leaving Evelyn with young Daniel. He paid child support, but that was it.
Evelyn never complained. She worked hard, gave Daniel everything, and raised him well. The only thing that bothered her? He’d inherited her gentle nature—too soft, too accommodating.
When Daniel brought Sophie home to meet her, Evelyn wasn’t thrilled. Pretty, yes, but so sharp-tongued and domineering. Still, she kept quiet—Daniel was a grown man, he could choose his own wife.
They married, scraped together money for a flat, and had Liam. When he started school, Sophie had a bright idea. “Daniel, why don’t we ask your mum to sell her place and ours? We’ll buy a three-bedroom, she can have her own room, and she can look after Liam—pick him up from school, take him to clubs, make sure he does his homework. I’ve just been promoted—I can’t risk my career. And she’s retired—what else does she do all day?”
Daniel hesitated but agreed. Evelyn wasn’t keen. “Sophie, I don’t want to be in the way. Here, I’m mistress of my own home. There, I’ll be living on sufferance.”
“Don’t be silly! You’ll be helping us. What does it matter where you live?”
Daniel chimed in, “Mum, it’ll be nicer together.”
After endless persuasion, Evelyn gave in. The flats sold quickly, Sophie found a nice three-bed, and the move was on.
Evelyn asked, “Could we take some of my things? The furniture’s still good. And my sewing machine—maybe we could hire a van?”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Evelyn, please! That old stuff isn’t worth the transport cost. And when would you even sew? You’ll be busy with Liam.”
That’s when Evelyn realised the trap had shut. The deeds were signed, the move done. And so began her life as an unpaid live-in help.
She tiptoed around, ate when called, waited her turn for the bathroom while Sophie gabbed on the phone. Evenings? Back to her room. Weekends were worse—friends over, laughter, while Evelyn faded into the wallpaper.
Then, one day in the park, she met Arthur. A widower, lonely like her, his daughter rarely visited. At first, they just chatted on benches. Then they exchanged numbers. Soon, they were meeting on purpose. Arthur became her escape.
…Which brings us back to that parents’ meeting. Evelyn had plans—Arthur’s birthday. She didn’t want a row, so she called him, wished him happy birthday, and promised to come late. She went to the meeting, then to Arthur’s. They had tea, talked, strolled in the park. She got home at eleven, lighthearted for the first time in years.
Sophie pounced. “Evelyn, have you lost your mind?! Liam’s alone, we’ve been calling—where were you?!”
“You could’ve rung.”
“We did! You didn’t answer!”
“Oh, sorry, love. My battery must’ve died.”
“Sorry?! That’s it?! Where were you?!”
Evelyn stayed calm. “Sophie, why are you shouting? I’m a grown woman. I don’t ask where you go. And Liam’s old enough to be alone awhile.”
Sophie gaped. Daniel came out. “Mum, what’s going on?”
Evelyn smiled. “I meant to tell you—I’m moving in with Arthur tomorrow. We’ve decided to be together.”
Sophie threw her hands up. “Oh, brilliant!” and stalked off.
The next day, Evelyn packed her bag. One last look at that dreary view, then she walked out.
“Evelyn, stop this! Where are you going?!” Sophie shrieked.
“I told you. To live with someone who loves me.”
Daniel fretted. “Mum, who even is he? What if he’s some con man?”
“Daniel, when you brought Sophie home, I didn’t insult her. Respect my choice.”
And with that, she left. Arthur was waiting downstairs. Daniel and Sophie watched from the window.
“Your mother’s lost it. Love at her age? She’s gone senile,” Sophie muttered.
Daniel just sighed. “I’d better get ready for work.”
…Evelyn stayed with Arthur. For the first time in years, she was happy. Late love? Maybe. But it was real. And that was enough.
