On Borrowed Time
“Nina, it’s parents’ evening at Elijah’s school tonight at six. You’ll have to go because Andrew and I won’t make it. Just so you don’t forget, I’ll ring you around five to remind you,” announced Alice, her daughter-in-law, from the hallway, touching up her lipstick at the same time.
“Alice, why don’t you go yourself? I don’t hear very well. There’ll be so many parents there, all talking at once, and I’ll just get flustered,” replied Nina, stepping out of her room.
“Nina, you know perfectly well Andrew works late, and I’ve got reports to finish. You’re at home all day anyway! Must we go through this every single time?” Alice huffed impatiently.
“Alice, I don’t just sit about, you know. I clean, do the shopping, make Elijah his lunch… I’m sixty-seven, after all,” Nina insisted.
“Honestly, you’re just looking for a row this morning. Must you throw it in my face that you cook soup for your grandson? He’s your only one, by the way! Andrew, for heaven’s sake, say something!” Alice was nearly beside herself with irritation as she turned to her husband.
“Mum, just go, will you? Sit, listen. If they ask for money for something, text me straight away, and I’ll send it. What’s the fuss? I really don’t see why we’re arguing,” Andrew replied in his usual calm manner.
“All the same, I can’t tonight. I’ve got my own plans,” Nina said quietly.
“Well, then, carry on with your plans. Every other child will have their parents there, and ours will be the only one left out! Thanks for ruining my mood!” Alice snapped, storming out and slamming the door behind her.
“Precisely—every other child’s parents…” Nina muttered before retreating to her room.
Andrew lingered in the hallway for a moment, adjusted his tie in the mirror, picked up his laptop, and headed out.
“I’m off. Elijah, don’t be late for school, alright?” The door shut sharply behind him, and silence settled over the flat.
Twelve-year-old Elijah was already dressed for school. With a few minutes to spare, he decided to pass the time playing on his console. Lost in his headphones, he barely registered the argument—if he heard it at all.
…Nina sat on the small sofa in her room, gazing out of the window. In the five years she had lived in this cramped space, she had memorised every detail of the view—the corner of the opposite building, the birch tree, the rose bushes, and a slice of the playground. It was all painfully familiar because most of her evenings and weekends were spent just like this: sitting, staring, waiting.
For a long time, Nina had felt like little more than a nursemaid and maid-of-all-work in her son’s home. And, truth be told, that was exactly what she had become. But life hadn’t always been this way…
…Nina had been born into a modest family, growing up quiet and well-mannered. Like most, she went to school, then university, and took her first job after graduation. She chose to return to her hometown rather than stay in the city where she’d studied.
Back home, she found work at the local factory, where she met her future husband, Geoffrey, the young foreman. They took a liking to each other, married within months, and soon welcomed their son, Andrew.
Nina had dreamed of a daughter too, but fate had other plans. One day, a woman arrived from the city—a technical consultant named Veronica, sent to oversee new machinery. Veronica did more than streamline production; she stole Geoffrey’s heart.
At first, Nina believed he’d return. But Geoffrey filed for divorce, declaring he’d always wanted city life, and here was his chance—Veronica had a flat, connections, prospects. He left, sending child support dutifully but showing little interest in his son’s life.
Nina never complained. She worked hard, did her best for Andrew, and raised him to be a good man. The only thing that troubled her was how much he took after her—too soft, too obliging, too kind.
Andrew grew up, went to university, and one day announced he was bringing home his fiancée, Alice. Nina wasn’t overjoyed. She’d grown used to life with her son, and now she faced the prospect of rattling around alone in their small two-bedroom flat. She prayed Andrew had chosen well, that they’d all get along.
Alice was pretty, sharp, and full of energy—not the gentle soul Nina had imagined for her son. But she held her tongue. Andrew was a grown man; he could decide for himself.
They married soon after. At first, they rented a tiny flat, then saved enough to buy their own. Years later, Elijah was born. When he neared school age, Alice grew restless—they needed more space, and someone to look after the boy.
“Andrew, what if we asked your mother?” she suggested one evening.
“Ask her what?”
“To sell her flat and ours. We could buy a three-bedroom. Everyone would have their own space, and she could watch Elijah after school, take him to clubs, make sure he does his homework. I’ve just been promoted—I can’t risk my career now. And she’s retired—what does she do all day?”
“I suppose we could ask…” Andrew said hesitantly.
Nina didn’t like the idea.
“Alice, I don’t want to be in your way. Here, I’m mistress of my own home. There, I’d just be… on borrowed time,” she tried to explain.
“Nina, don’t be ridiculous! You’d be helping your son and grandson. What’s the difference where you live?” Alice pressed.
“Mum, it’s true. You’d have your own room. It’d be nicer for all of us,” Andrew added.
After much persuasion, Nina reluctantly agreed. Both flats sold quickly, and Alice found a spacious three-bedroom in good condition.
As the move approached, Nina made one last request. “Alice, I’d like to bring some of my things—the good furniture, my sewing machine. Could we hire a van?”
“Nina, for goodness’ sake! There’s no time for that! It’s all just old junk—hardly worth the cost of moving it. And when would you even use a sewing machine? You’ll be busy with Elijah.”
That was the moment Nina realised the trap had sprung. The contracts were signed, the paperwork done. Within weeks, she moved into the new flat with Andrew, Alice, and Elijah.
Just as she feared, she felt like an outsider in her own family. She rose early but stayed in her room to avoid disturbing the others. Meals were taken when summoned. Even the bathroom was rarely free—Alice would be in there chatting to friends or dyeing her hair.
So Nina retreated, spending her days in solitude. September came, and weekdays brought a small respite—she was alone in the flat then. But the role was clear: cleaner, cook, babysitter. Evenings were still spent in her room.
Lately, Nina had aged, worn down by the strain. Weekends were worst—friends and colleagues visited, barely noticing the quiet woman in the corner. To escape, she took to walking in the park.
There, she met a man her age—Peter. He, too, was lonely, a widower whose daughter lived far away and rarely visited. At first, their meetings were chance encounters, but soon they exchanged numbers and arranged to meet. Peter became her solace.
***
And tonight, Nina truly had plans. She hadn’t expected to attend parents’ evening. It was Peter’s birthday, and he’d invited her over.
Not wanting to provoke Alice, she rang him, wished him well, and promised to come an hour late. Peter agreed.
She kept her word—went to the school, then left for her own evening. They drank tea, spoke of years gone by, then strolled through their favourite park. Nina returned home in high spirits, well past ten.
Alice was waiting.
“Nina, have you lost your mind? Leaving Elijah alone all evening? We’ve been worried sick!”
“Why look for me? You could’ve rung.”
“We did! You didn’t answer!”
“Oh? Sorry, Alice. My battery must’ve died.”
“Sorry? That’s all you’ve got to say? Where were you?”
“Alice, why do you speak to me like this? I’m a grown woman, free to spend my time as I choose. I don’t question where you go. And Elijah’s old enough to be alone for a bit.”
Alice was stunned into silence. Andrew appeared.
“Mum, honestly—where have you been?”
“No tricks, son. I meant to tell you—I’m moving in with Peter. We’ve decided to make a life together.”
“Well, that’s just splendid!” Alice spat before storming off.
…The next day, Nina packed her things. One last look at the dreary, familiar view,
