And what did you think, huh? Michael snorted. Did I lie to you back then? I told you I dont like kids!
Eleanor burst into tears.
Mike, how can you not love your own son? Hes your future, isnt he? You never even call him by his name Whats this that you keep saying about him?!
Little Jack, a pudgy oneyearold with a face all sticky from porridge, shoved his rattle out of his tiny hands.
For a heartbeat the baby froze, gulped a big breath and let out a wail so high it made Eleanors ears ring.
She scrambled to the high chair, scooped him up and glared at Michael.
Michael kept munching his breakfast as if nothing was happening.
Its all right, love, he just fell Eleanor cooed. Dadll pick him up. Michael, could you hand it over? Hes rolled right up to your foot.
Michael lowered his gaze. A bright yellow giraffe toy lay a centimetre from his boot, snug in a houseslipper.
He nudged it aside with his toe and buttered his toast.
Michael! Eleanor snapped. Why are you kicking it? Cant you bend down?
He rose without a word, walked over to the coffee machine, pressed the button, waited for the black stream to fill a mug, then turned back.
Im running late, Ellie. Ive got a meeting in forty minutes and I havent even had a proper breakfast.
Morning traffic, you know the drill. Grab the rattle yourself! I cant get near the kidmy shirts fresh, I dont want it ruined.
Whats that got to do with the shirt? The lads crying and you act like you dont care
Hes been wailing twentyfour hours a day, Michael replied calmly. Its his favourite pastime, keeps my nerves on edge. Alright, Im off.
He planted a quick kiss on Eleanors cheek and dodged the sticky little hands.
Papa! Jack gurgled, his toothless grin stretching wide.
Michael barely glanced at him.
Bye then, he muttered and bolted out of the kitchen.
A few minutes later the door slammed shut. Eleanor flopped onto a chair and let out a sob.
Why is he treating her like this? What did she do? Whats the boy guilty of?
Jack, sensing his mums mood, fell quiet and started smearing the last of his porridge on the table.
Eleanor, wiping her eyes, tried to calm down. She couldnt let the little one get upset again.
Then a memory of Michaels words right after the wedding popped up:
Ellie, to be honest, Im not a fan of children. Any at all. They make me cringe noise, mess, endless whining
Why would we even think about that? Lets skip having kids, yeah?
Shed laughed it off back then, waving it away:
Oh, come off it, Mike. All men say that until they actually hold a baby. Instinct kicks in, youll see.
His instinct never showed up, and he truly cant stand his own son.
By lunch, Eleanors parents had turned up. Gloria Barrett, her mum, breezed in first, followed by her dad, Stephen Barrett, lugging a box of a new building set.
Wheres our little king? Wheres our future manager? Stephen boomed as he crossed the threshold. Come on, go see granddad!
Jack squealed with delight, and the next two hours the house was pure bliss.
Eleanor finally managed to sit on the sofa with a cuppa, watching Stephen stack towers while Gloria spoonfed Jack some fruit puree, chanting silly rhymes.
Ellie, you look pale, Gloria noted. Michael ran late again yesterday?
No, he was on time, Eleanor glanced away. Im just tired.
Gloria pursed her lips. Shed seen everything. No family photo with the kid except the hospital ones where Michael looked like a hostage.
She knew her soninlaw never asked about teeth or vaccinations never showed any interest in the boy. Eleanor had complained about it a few times already
Does he ever get near him? Stephen asked quietly.
Dad, dont start. Hes swamped with work, hes exhausted.
Work! Stephen snorted. I was on two jobs when you lads were kids. But Id never step by a cot. I pulled night shifts so Mom could sleep! And this bloke.
Stephen, hush, Gloria snapped. Ellie, maybe have a word with him? Hes growing up, needs a dad, a male role model.
Ive told you a hundred times, Mum.
Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself, mortified at her husbands behaviour and ashamed that shed chosen such a poor father for her son.
So whats his line?
He says, Let him grow. When hes a man we can talk. Until then its your job.
Only yours?! her mother flung a towel aside. Did you two even think about him when you ? What a mess, honestly!
That evening, after her parents left, Eleanors mood sank again. Michael would be home soon, dinner needed making, toys had to be tidied so he wouldnt trip over them and start screaming.
Michael came home at eight.
Hey, he tossed his keys into the bowl. Anything to eat? Im famished.
Meatballs in the oven, salad on the table, Eleanor called from the hallway, drying her hands. Jack said two new words today: mum and give.
Brilliant, Michael replied flatly, shrugging off his coat. Hope give isnt about my paycheck. Im draining money just trying to keep up.
He laughed at his own joke, headed to the bedroom to change, while Eleanor just stood there, stunned.
It wasnt rudeness; it was outright indifference to the only heir. Whether the boy cried or barked, Michael would have reacted the same.
Jacks gums were killing him. Hed been whimpering since dawn, and the whole family hadnt slept a wink.
Eleanor held him, rubbed his gums with gel, turned on cartoons nothing helped.
Michael had a day off. He was perched on the sofa with his laptop, trying to watch a series with headphones on, but the babys cries cut through the noisecancelling.
Around two in the afternoon Eleanor tried to put Jack down for a nap. It was her only chance to shower, have a breather, just sit in peace.
Jack fought back, arching his back, flinging his dummy, screaming so loud the chandelier rattled.
The bedroom door burst open Michael stood in the doorway.
Eleanor, how many times do I have to say this? he roared. Ive been listening to this concert for four hours! My heads about to split!
Jack, scared by the shout, went into a fullblown tantrum, and Eleanor snapped:
Do you think I enjoy this? Hes got teething pain!
Do something! Shut him up, I dont know Give him something!
Ive given him! He just needs to sleep!
Michael swooped into the room and loomed over her.
Listen, stop tormenting him. If he wont nap, let him crawl and scream in another room. Move him to the kitchen and close the door behind you!
Are you mad? Eleanor could barely form a reply. Hes only a year old! He cant go without a daytime nap.
If he doesnt sleep now, the evening will be hell. Neither of our nerves, nor his, can take it.
I dont care about his nerves! Skip the nap and hell crash early tonight. Logical, right? Logical.
Im fed up with his whining. I just want a quiet house, got it? Im over this rubbish!
Quiet? Eleanor rose slowly, still cradling the sobbing boy. You want peace? What about me? Did you know I havent eaten all day? I cant even use the bathroom without him?
If he doesnt fall asleep, Im going to collapse, Michael. I need that hour. I need it!
Oh, here we go, he rolled his eyes. Motherheroine. Everyone has kids, everyone raises them, and youre the most miserable of all.
Put him on the floor, let him play. You go on and cook or whatever you need Hell keep himself busy.
Do you even understand what youre saying? Eleanors voice trembled. Its your son. Hes in pain, his teeth are coming in. You suggest depriving him of sleep so you can watch your stupid show?
Im offering a solution! Michael shouted. If he wont sleep, dont force him! Simple as that!
Jack wailed again, burying his face against his mothers chest. Eleanor stared at Michael with sheer disgust.
Get out, she whispered.
What? Michael looked confused.
Get out of the room. And shut the door.
He paused, snorted, and stalked out, slamming the door loudly.
Twenty minutes later, a exhausted Jack finally drifted off, breathing heavily in his sleep.
Eleanor shuffled to the kitchen. Michael was at the table, munching a sandwich and scrolling on his phone.
I called your mum yesterday, Eleanor said, leaning against the doorway.
Michael tensed, putting his phone down.
Why?
I was trying to work out whats going on between us. I asked her about you, how your parents treated you.
She told him his dad never let him off his hands, took him fishing at three, read him stories. He grew up surrounded by love. So where did this come from?
Michael turned slowly toward her.
One more time, he enunciated each word, you complain to my mother and well have a serious row.
I wasnt complaining. I was asking for advice.
Advice? he smirked. Do you know what she told me? That Im a cold, heartless bastard, that Im tearing the family apart.
Youve turned me into a monster, Ellie. Proud of yourself?
Arent you a monster? she asked softly. Look at yourself. You live with us like a flatshare neighbour.
Youve never even called the boy by his name all week. He, the little one, that. You hate him?
Michael stayed silent.
I dont hate him, he finally managed. I just I dont know what to do with him.
He screams, hes smelly, he keeps demanding!
I get home, theres a mess, and I just want a quiet night, a film with you.
Instead its nappies, toys underfoot, and your perpetually sour face.
Its only temporary, Michael. Kids grow
They grow forever, Ellie. Too long. I told you straight up: I dont like this. Did you think I was joking? That your big love would change me?
I thought you were an adult. And that dont like kids and dont like your own child were different things.
Turns out theyre the same, he said, tossing an unfinished sandwich into the bin. Im stepping out for a walk. Need some fresh air.
Go, Eleanor turned toward the sink. Go. Jack and I will manage.
He left, and Eleanor dialed her parents. Something had to be sorted, fast.
That night Jack woke up in a good mood. The toothache had faded, and he was happily crawling across the rug, trying to catch the cat that kept hiding under the sofa.
Michael returned two hours later. Eleanor gave him no reaction. He flopped into his armchair, reached for the remote.
Jack spotted his dad, beamed, and wiggled his legs, crawling up to the chair. He clung to Michaels trouser leg and peered at his face.
Pa! he chirped, holding out a toy car.
Eleanor froze, scared to breathe. She watched Michaels face. He gave a quick glance at the boy, grimaced and said to her:
Put him away, will you? I need to watch telly! Why is he glued to me?! Go bother mum!
Eleanor scooped Jack up and carried him to the bedroom. An hour later she hauled out two huge suitcases. Michael barely had time to react before a knock at the door his parents had turned up for Eleanor and the grandson.
Eleanors mother had been begging her to come back for months, but she wouldnt budge.
She filed for divorce a couple of weeks after moving out; she wasnt planning on living with Michael any longer.
Michael suddenly had a change of heart, tried to arrange meetings with his wife and son, but Eleanor decided everything would go through the courts.
Jack would be raised by his granddad a proper bloke in every sense.
