The door remained shut.
“Mum, open the door! Mum, please!” The boy’s fists hammered against the metal surface with such force it sounded like the hinges might burst. “I know you’re home! Your cars still hereyou havent gone out!”
Margaret stood with her back to the door, clutching a cold cup of tea. Her hands trembled so violently the porcelain rattled against the saucer.
“Mum, whats going on?” Thomass voice grew more desperate. “The neighbours say you havent let anyone inside for a weeknot even Emily!”
At the mention of his wifes name, Margarets lips twisted slightly. *Emily.* His precious Emily, for whom hed do anything. Even what happened last Thursday.
“Mum, Ill call a locksmith!” Thomas threatened. “Well break the lock!”
“Dont you dare!” Margaret finally snapped without turning. “Dont you dare lay a finger on it!”
“Mum, why? Whats happened? Talk to me!”
She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. How could she explain to her son what shed overheard? How could she tell him what shed pieced together by chance, standing in the clinics hallway?
“Mum, please” Thomass voice softened, pleading. “Im worried about you. Emilys worried too.”
*Emilys worried.* Of course she was. Probably terrified her plans were falling apart.
“Go away, Thomas. Go away and dont come back.”
“Mum, are you ill? Do you have a fever? Should I call a doctor?”
“I dont need a doctor. I need you to leave me alone.”
Margaret rose and walked to the window. In the garden, Thomas was on the phone. No doubt telling Emily his mum was being difficult again.
Her son looked up, spotting her. He gestured that he was coming upstairs. She stepped back and sank into her armchair.
A minute later, the knocking started again.
“Mum, its me and Emily. Open up, please.”
Margaret gritted her teeth. So hed brought her. His wife, whod been so carefully plotting their future.
“Margaret,” came Emilys smooth voice, “its me. Please open the door. Thomas is beside himself.”
What a brilliant actress. She knew exactly when to soften her tone.
“We brought food,” Emily continued. “Milk, bread, walnut cakejust how you like it.”
*Walnut cake.* Margaret smirked bitterly. A month ago, Emily had discovered her mother-in-laws weakness for walnut cake and had made a habit of bringing it ever since. Such a devoted daughter-in-law.
“Margaret, just say something,” Emilys voice feigned concern. “Were worried sick.”
*Youre worried,* Margaret repeated, but so quietly they didnt hear.
“Mum, Im not leaving until you open up!” Thomas declared. “Ill stay here all night if I have to!”
She knew he meant it. Hed always been stubborn, ever since he was a boy. Once he got an idea in his head, he wouldnt let go.
“Fine,” she said at last. “But only you. Alone.”
“What?” Thomas sounded confused.
“Emily goes home. Ill only talk to you.”
She heard their hushed whispers in the hallway.
“Mum, why? Emilys worried too.”
“Because I said so. Either you come in alone, or neither of you does.”
More murmurs, then Emilys voice:
“Alright, Margaret. Ill go. Thomas, call me when you know whats wrong.”
Margaret waited until the footsteps faded down the stairs before slowly approaching the door and turning the key.
Thomas barged in like a storm, wrapping her in a tight hug, his face etched with worry.
“Mum, youve lost weight! You look terrible! Whats happened? Are you ill?”
“I havent been ill,” she said, pulling away and heading to the kitchen. “Do you want tea?”
“Yes,” he said, sitting at the table, eyes fixed on her. “Now tell me whats going on. Why have you locked yourself away for a week?”
Margaret set the kettle on the stove and turned to him.
“Why should I open the door? Whats out there worth waiting for?”
“Mum, whats that got to do with anything? You cant stay inside forever. Youve got errands, doctors appointments”
“Mrs. Wilkins next door runs mine. I leave her lists and money. And Im not going back to the doctor.”
“Why not?”
She poured boiling water into the cups, stirring in sugar.
“Because last time I was there, I heard things I wish I hadnt.”
Thomas frowned.
“What did you hear?”
“Your wife. On the phone with a friend. She didnt know I was there.”
“What was she saying?”
Margaret sat across from him, staring deep into his eyeseyes just like his fathers: kind, honest. Could this man really be capable of such a thing?
“She was talking about selling my flat. Putting me in a care home. Spending the money.”
Thomas went pale.
“Mum, you mustve misunderstood. Emily would never”
“I heard every word,” she cut in. “Crystal clear. And she said, *Thomas already agrees. He says she cant live alone anymore, not at her age. Well put her in a nice home, sell the flat. The money will cover the deposit.*”
“Mum, I never”
“Dont interrupt me!” Her voice rose. “And then she said, *Thank God shes docile, doesnt suspect a thing. Thinks we love her. But shes just in the way.*”
Thomas hung his head, fists clenched.
“Mum, I swear, I never agreed to this. Emilys got her head in the clouds.”
“In the clouds?” Margaret laughed bitterly. “Then why did she go into such detail? About the home, the money”
She broke off, watching the truth settle over him like a shadow.
Thomas sat in silence, shoulders hunched. Finally, he looked up.
“Mum Ill fix this.”
She shook her head, turning back to the counter.
“Its already broken.”
He stood abruptly, chair scraping. “Ill talk to her. Ill make her understand.”
Margaret sighed. “And then what? Youll leave her? Throw away years together?”
“I dont know. But I wont let this happen.”
She studied him for a long moment. His faceso like his fatherswas set in determination.
“Go on, then,” she said quietly. “Talk to her. But dont come back until youve decided whose side youre on.”
Thomas hesitated, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Ill sort it, Mum. I promise.”
She didnt answer, just listened as the door closed behind him.
And so, with a heavy but steady heart, Margaret continued her evening alone, knowing that, whatever her son chose, she would keep her dignity and her home until the very end.
