Ive watched the whole tangled saga of Michaels family unfold, and Ill tell it as it happened, with a proper English spin.
When Michael came home from National Service his blood was still hot, and his mates were certain hed chosen his future wife on a whim, straight from a night out. Hed met a clever girl, fell for her instantly and never looked back. She was petite, sturdy, shortlegged, without a waist, a broadfaced sort with tiny, narrow eyes. Mary, Michaels mother, thought the name Eleanor was terribly unsuitable for a daughterinlaw, and the other women at the tea club agreed.
Shes a nonething, a minus three, theyd say.
School and Cambridge? theyd add.
Michael was a handsome athlete, top of his class, and after demob he got straight back to his studies. The girl hed just met, barely acquainted, got pregnant almost immediately.
Shes doing it on purpose!
Eleanor isnt his match!
Mary, at reunions with old school friends, let her thoughts fly, but at home she kept silent in the brief chats with her son. The boys eyes shone too brightly, and she feared she might be the night owl that ruined his day, or simply didnt want to upset Michael.
She recalled shed been pregnant at nineteen, before turning twenty, delivering a baby a month before her birthday. The boy, whod been a sickly child, grew up strong, took up sport, and often surprised everyonenot just with the desire to marry. Mary wasnt thrilled, but she tried not to show it.
A child is never at fault for his parents mistakes. Michaels wish to be a proper father, to give his son a name and surname, was something Mary wholeheartedly supported. She swore she would not become the kind of stepmother who, from day one, never said a kind word to a daughterinlaw, as had happened to her own motherinlaw after her divorce. Though they lived in the same town, they never met.
When Michaels exwife left with their baby, Marys own mother took the child in, registered him before she died, and was relieved that the flat would stay in the family. Mary didnt believe in God, but she still ordered a church service for her late mother every year, knowing how much it meant to her. She kept her mothers photos, the album in her room, and even framed a portrait of her grandfather, a war veteran, hanging it above the kitchen table. The old lady had once reminded Mary of the actress Love Orlov.
Maggie, Michaels sister, was very different, while Michael grew into a goodlooking man. In autumn his son asked if he could stay with his mother for a while, or if he should apply for a family room in the hall of residence. Michael promised to cook borscht and not cause trouble if his mother refused.
Mary gave her verdict, surprised even herself:
Move Eleanor over. Well swap rooms. Ill give you the larger one, three of us together.
Her son leapt up, kissed her cheek and whispered, Mum, youre the best in the world! Dont worry Ill get a parttime job. We wont be a burden on you. He was full of confidence, though he barely understood what raising a child with two student parents meant.
Mary didnt show her eyes to the happy boy; life would handle it better than she could. Yet the early months of the young couples life under Marys roof didnt go as Mary had imagined. She worked in the central Birmingham library, headed a department, earned a modest salary, and thought it would stretch, even if tight.
Then the nineties arrived, bringing promises of freedom that turned into hardship. Marys friends fell one after another, men drinking themselves blind or disappearing for work. Nighttime gunshots echoed outside the block, blood stained the pavement. Factory wages stopped, and her library pay seemed a pittance against soaring prices.
Michael kept his head down, studied hard, and on weekends helped the elderly with garden work. Eleanor, roundbodied but ever cheerful, would smile and crack jokes even as she clambered up the fourthfloor walkup without a lift. After a painful birth, she showed Michael the newborn boy in the window, asking, What shall we call him? A little spark lit in her eyes.
Soon she struck a deal with the pensioners on the ground floorold Ivan and his wife Elainewho kept a small garden. Eleanor dug up the soil beneath the windows, planted potatoes and carrots. The next spring many neighbours followed suit, turning balconies into vegetable patches. Mary, once stressed and worried, watched her daughterinlaw find a way out of every jam, never admitting defeat. She didnt have time for long philosophical debates; she simply said, Brilliant! Splendid! Simply wonderful! about the garden, the study, the baby.
Mary stopped noticing Eleanors quirksher odd dress sense, misplaced accentsonly correcting her politely when needed. Eleanor never took offense, thanked her, and kept improving. The child grew quickly, walking at nine months, babbling by his first birthday. Mary would stroll with him, delighted that he never cried without cause; when he whined, she looked for the reason. He took after his mothers sunny temperament and his fathers good looks.
During university exams, little Daniel, the baby, would wander between Eleanors best friend Lucy, the veteran Smirnovs, and Mary herself, eating well, sleeping plenty, and behaving like a textbook example of a healthy infant. Mary, fed up with his occasional crankiness and frequent colds, was convinced that the quiet, content child was a myth. It wasnt.
Near New Year Mary felt uneasy that shed never met Eleanors parents; the couple had married quietly a year and a half ago, visited them once, but never invited them over for holidays. Deciding to make amends, Mary took her grandson on a coach to the nearest town, promising to return in a weekend so Michael could have a few days alone with his child.
At the small bus station, Eleanors extended family greeted them with a crowd of ten waving hands, a banner that read Welcome! (theyd forgotten to bring a sign) and a room prepared for a guest, decked out with a bright poster announcing The younger siblings of Ian and Zoe, Eleanors brothers and sisters, have prepared a welcome for Maggie. When Mary realized she had been set up as the guest, she was stunned. The grandson was whisked away near the bus, and they were told hed be sent back later.
That night Mary found a festive tea cup and a sweet bun on her bedside table, a note written in three distinct handwritings, signed Uncle Fred. It read:
Maggie dear, hugs and sweet dreams in your new home! May the groom appear in your dreams!
The relatives knew their towns matchmaker was divorced, and someone had made a harmless joke.
In the morning, mischievous boys asked Eleanors motherinlaw how a dream lover had visited. Whats the surprise? Hes as pretty as a schoolgirl, she laughed, pointing to Eleanors figure, a proper bride! Thats why the kids want you married off.
Later, the last grandson was sent off to school. Eleanors motherinlaw, Nastya, fussed over the guests, offering tea. Wheres Daniel? Mary asked, flustered. Hes with the older kids, Nastya replied. Ian and Zoes children? No, little Vanya is with Natasha and Sergey, I think. Marys mind whirred; the child had apparently spent the night elsewhere, but she hadnt insisted on taking him back. She felt shed lost control.
Nastya comforted her, Dont worry, love. Hell be returned safe, hes our boy after all. Mary raced out, found Daniel at a relatives house in the village, and burst into tearsnot from fear but from shame at feeling like a bad mother and grandmother.
Soon a mug of peppermint tea with a spoonful of honey and a splash of whisky soothed her. Zina, a cousin, sent her back with Nastya, promising a bath that evening. The next morning, the matriarch Anastasia urged the unbaptized Maggie to attend church.
The holidays stretched from two days to a week. Maggie never let Daniel out of her sight; they both traveled together when family visited. Their relatives were eager to meet them. On the return bus, Maggie, Daniels belly now a little rounder, and a few large bags of jam, pickles, knitted socks, and coats were crammed under the seats for the journey home. They were asked not to be shy and to visit more oftenDont be stingy with the visits, love, the fashions catching on, someone joked.
The nineties, despite their thorns, turned into a school of hard knocks where, amid the occasional shove, happiness still found room for warm knitted socks, letters from Nastya, dancing, and communal songs. Swirling through all this, Maggie smiled more, frowned less, and felt content.
A nephew of Eleanors, a medical student, knocked on Maggies door asking to stay. She welcomed him, and he bowed respectfully. Maggie opened her mouth in surprise, realizing that even grandmothers like Nastya trusted her, even if she might fail.
Life in the family settled evenly. Daniel went to nursery, Michael began teaching history at a secondary school, Eleanor took a job with a construction firmshed been offered a decent wage, not the schoolyard allowance. Michael, a bit puffed up, thought hed get a promotion, but his family reminded him he was about to finish his doctorate and move to university. He lied a little to his relatives, but the truth surfaced within a decade, as the 2000s rolled in.
When Daniel started winning maths olympiads, Michael met a charming young colleague, the deans daughter, a striking woman in a pencil skirt and lowheeled shoes. He told his wife he was filing for divorce. Eleanor went pale, almost fainted. Maggie rushed in, sat her down, embraced her, and whispered hoarsely, How could you? You swore youd never do as your father did, never abandon the family or the child.
Michael said nothing, packed his things, moved out, and filed for divorce. A few months later he dropped by when Eleanor wasnt home and Daniel wasnt back from school, asking about the division of property.
What do you mean? Maggie gasped.
The flat, of course. And ask Eleanor to move out. I dont want to hurt her. In that instant Michael realized his son was clinging to his cheek, while Maggie clenched her fists, voice cracking, Get out of my house! Understand?
She lamented the courts, the dirty laundry of the family laid bare, but fate wasnt on Michaels side. The judge turned out to be one of Marys old friends, and the second judge a close associate whose own daughter had been abandoned by her husband in London. They were no fans of traitors.
A former stepmother arrived to smooth things over, but Maggie and Eleanor barred her from the doorway. Daniel, now a teenager, walked around the house with them, listening. Hed seen the old lady, Godbless her, and even though he was dazed, he behaved politely.
Maggie stayed with her daughterinlaw and grandson, choosing their side hard. She heard Michaels accusations, even curses, but didnt change her decision.
Eleanor and Daniel are registered here; this is their home, she said.
My mother, Michael whispered, I failed to raise you right, grew up a rogue. Forgive me. The drawnout tension lasted a couple of years, never a clean victory. Money had to be paid to Michael so he wouldnt split the flat; most of it was gathered by Maggies relatives, who also helped with the younger brother and Daniel.
A young doctor, Igor, set up an IV for Maggie, and gradually things fell back into place.
Twenty years passed. Eleanor never remarried, but built a career, bought a onebed flat next door, and quietly dated a divorced accountant from her firm. Maggie, no longer alone, still sees Daniel three times a week; he now teaches at a grammar school, and his pupils win international competitions.
Maggie has no time to be bored. She hosts a couple of students from the extended family now and then. Her beloved greataunt Nastya died not long ago, and the farewell was full of singalongs, three days and three nights of noisy accordions, as she liked.
A year before her death, Nastya promised Maggie shed never be left alone. And now, at sixtyseven, Maggie feels spry, jokes that her prayers keep her looking ten years younger, and a widowed neighbour, the former boss of Eleanors late husband, has asked her to be his partner. Hes younger, not yet sixty, and says, If youve found happiness, grab it with both hands, dont let it slip. Thats exactly what his grandmother taught him.
So thats the story, straight from the heart of an English family, told by a bloke whos seen it all.
