Olivia had never been needed by her mother, Jane, from the very first breath. Jane treated her like a forgotten piece of furniture, something that could be moved or discarded without a second thought. Their fights were endless, and when Mark, Olivias father, left her for his lawful wife, Janes world shattered completely.
Gone, is it? So you never meant to abandon your own trashheap! You ripped my nerves apart! she screamed into the receiver. You left me and my child? Shall I throw her out the window or abandon her at the station with the vagrants?
Olivia pressed her ears shut and wept silently, soaking up her mothers hatred like a sponge.
I dont care what you do with my daughter, Marks voice crackled from the other end. I doubt shes even mine. Goodbye.
In a frantic rage, Jane tossed Olivias tiny clothes into a battered handbag, shoved the birth certificate in with them, and, gripping the fiveyearolds hand, shoved them into a black cab.
Ill show him! Ill show everyone! she muttered, her voice high and haughty as she barked the address to the driver. She intended to dump the child on Marks mother, Eleanor, who lived out in the rolling hills of Yorkshire.
The cab driver, a burly man named Tom, bristled at the imperious youngster who answered his timid little passengers questions with sharp rebukes.
Mum, I need to go to the loo, Olivia whispered, pressing her head against Janes shoulder, expecting nothing kind.
At the mention of a bathroom, Jane roared at her daughter so fiercely that Toms fists clenched, as if ready to deliver a slap. He, too, had a granddaughter of similar age, and the sight of the tiny girl seemed to stir something primitive in him.
Hold on! Dont you dare Jane snapped, turning away and staring out the window, her nostrils flaring with fury.
Take it easy, love. I could just set you down here, right now, and hand you over to child services, she hissed.
Enough! Shut up! You think youre some protector of little girls? Ill file a complaint that you made lewd advances toward my child! Who will believe a frightened mother over a cab driver? Ill raise my daughter however I see fit, so zip your lips!
Toms jaw tightened. Dealing with such a lunatic was more trouble than it was worth, even though he felt a pang of pity for the small girl.
After an hour and a half, they arrived at a modest cottage with a white picket fence. Jane turned away, only to hear Tom slam the accelerator.
Walk the rest, you snake! shouted from the back seat.
Olivia spat, cursing, and seized her mothers hand, kicking the gate open with a swift footthrust.
Take it, you filthy thing! Heres your treasuredo with her as you will. Your son gave his blessing. I dont need her! Jane wailed, her voice hoarse like a dogs bark, then flounced out on her heels.
Eleanor stood in the doorway, bewildered, as Olivias tears streamed down her cheeks, smearing her dirty fists.
Mother! Please dont go! the child sobbed, her face a blur of grief.
Jane tried to yank Olivias fingers away from her checkered skirt.
Get lost! Go live with your grandma! she shrieked, as curious neighbours peeked from their windows. Eleanor, clutching her heart, chased after the wailing girl.
Come, my dear. Come. My sweet little berry, Eleanor cooed, tears carving tracks down her weathered face. She knew nothing of the girls past.
Mark never bothered to acknowledge the outofwedlock child.
I wont hurt you, love. Want some pancakes? Ive got butter and cream, Eleanor said gently, guiding Olivia toward the house.
At the gate, Eleanor turned to see Janes car sputter away, leaving only a cloud of dust. They never heard from her again. Eleanor welcomed Olivia with open arms, convinced she was a blessing from above. She never doubted that the child was hersshe saw in her the likeness of little Mark, who visited the countryside so rarely that his face was already fading from memory.
Ill raise you, Olivia. Ill stand you on my own two feet, give you everything I can, as long as my strength lasts, Eleanor promised, and she did just thatloving, caring, sending her to primary school. Time flew, and soon Olivia was in Year Eleven, soon to graduate. She had blossomed into a beautiful, kind, thoughtful young woman, eager to study medicine, though only a community college seemed within reach.
Its a shame Father wont recognise me, she sighed, hugging Eleanor. In the evenings they sat on the terrace steps, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
Eleanors trembling hand stroked Olivias silky hair. What could she say? Her son, Mark, flatout refused any role in his daughters upbringing. He had reconciled with his first wife and their son, to whom he devoted all his affection. He despised Olivia, calling her a raggirl whenever he was home.
Youre a ragboy yourself! Eleanor burst. You only come to my door for pension money. You work, your wife works, yet you leech off me for the last pound. Leave, Mark! Dont come back. Better never to return than to keep tormenting us!
Fine, youll die before I even visit your grave! Mark snarled, shoving his son Vadim, who had been teasing Olivia, into a car and speeding off, his eyes dark with hatred. He never returned.
God judge him, my dear, Eleanor whispered, rising. Lets have tea and sleep. Tomorrow youll have your certificate.
Summer slipped by in a blur of garden chores, and soon it was time to send Olivia off to the city for university.
Lets ask neighbor Victor to drive us to the hall of residence with our bags, Eleanor said, hurrying despite her waning health. She knew a decision had to be made while there was still time.
Outside the dormitory, Olivia clung to her grandmother.
You are my joy, study, thats the most important thing. In the future youll have to rely on yourself. Im old, feeble. How long do I have left? Eleanor asked.
Olivia swallowed her tears.
Stop, Gran! Im not feeble. Im in the prime of my life! she protested.
Eleanor smiled. After saying goodbye, she rode in Victors van to the solicitors office. The paperwork was done, and the old woman returned to her village with a light heart.
Olivia visited every weekend, worrying about Eleanors health, cramming for exams, dreaming that her medical knowledge might lengthen her grandmothers twilight years. As university progressed, Olivia fell for her classmate Sam, a diligent young man also aiming for medical school.
Eleanor beamed at her granddaughters happiness. When Olivia graduated with a firstclass degree, she and Sam married, both barely twenty.
At a modest wedding reception in a cheap café, only Eleanor was present.
Youre not just my beloved Gran, youre also my mother and father, Olivia began, her voice trembling, eyes brimming with tears. You gave me a homea real, warm home. I love you, Gran. Thank you for everything!
She sank to her knees, pressing her forehead against Eleanors. She could not imagine a world without her.
Guests were moved, many wiping away tears alongside the bride.
Stand up, dear, Eleanor whispered, blushing. Its a bit awkward, I know. Pride swelled in her chest.
Whats awkward about it? Sam shouted, seating Eleanor beside him. Youre now the matriarch of our big family! Welcome! He gestured grandly to his soontobe relatives.
The evening was filled with toasts to the couples happiness and to Eleanors remarkable nurturing.
Soon after, Eleanors breath faded, as if she had finally completed her duty. Olivia and Sam tended to her, shuttling between the city and the village, balancing study and caretaking.
One night, holding Eleanors frail hand, Olivia whispered, When Im gone, my son and his spouse will swoop in like hawks. You must stand your ground. Ive already signed the deed; its with the solicitor, all legal.
Gran Eleanor began.
Dont speak! You never had real parents; I raised you alone. Soon Ill leave this world peacefully. Youll have a house, a roof. Sell it with Sam and buy a flat in the city.
Olivia sobbed, a lump choking her throat.
Eleanor lived another year and a half under careful care, then slipped away in her sleep, free of pain. As she had warned, forty days after her death Mark resurfaced with his new family.
Clear out the house! he barked. While my mother was alive you could stay. Shes goneout you go.
Olivia stared at his contemptuous face, at his wife shed never met, at his brother chewing gum and eyeing the cottage. In his mind he was already planning to sell the property and buy a flashy car, any car, to boast his newfound wealth.
Sam arrived from the shop, eyes narrowing at the intruders.
Whos this? Another guest you invited? Mark roared.
Sam placed his grocery bag on the table, unflinching. Im her lawful husband. And who might you be? I dont recall meeting you before.
Marks face flushed with anger.
Out! Both of you! he shouted, pointing at the door.
On what grounds do you speak so rudely? On what basis? Sam replied coolly, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Olivia is the rightful owner. Want to see the deed?
What deed? Mark stammered.
Romany, youve poisoned your own mother. We need to go to courtnow! Marks wife hissed, shoving him.
I wont let this happen! Ill prove youre not my daughter, not my mothers granddaughter! Mark thrashed the air with his fists.
Pack your bags, you raggirl. Well make sure you never live here again, his stepbrother muttered, the thought of losing his car fueling his rage.
They left, an emptiness filling the hallway. Olivia dropped to the floor, covering her face, sobbing. Why? What did I ever do to them? My father never bought me candy as a child. Now he wants to strip me of my home.
Is this how they live? With nowhere to go? Sam! This is all I have left of my Gran! she cried through tears.
Sam lifted her gently, pressing her against him.
Well put the house up for sale tomorrow. They wont bother you any longer. Remember, Gran always said we should sell and move to the city.
Yes I never imagined wed have to sell it so soon. This place held all my childhood.
The house sold quickly to wealthy buyers whod always dreamed of a country estate. They didnt even haggle. The new owners loved the sprawling brick manor, its pinefilled views, the orchard, and the vinecovered gazebo hidden in the garden.
Olivia and Sam bought a modest flat near the city centre, looking forward to starting a family. Their first child arrived, a bright little boy they adored.
Lying in bed, Olivia whispered to the night, Thank you, Gran, for giving me life.
