When Pain Speaks
Milly, love, I know this is tough, but weve got no other choice. We have to. Well have to sell the house. After that, once everythings split, well only have enough for a flat somewhere else. Id like to stay, too, but its just not possible. Claire held her daughters hands, wiping away tears from both their cheeks as best she could.
They both struggled deeply with these changes.
Claire and her husband, David, had been together nearly seventeen years. Of course, there were ups and downs, but they loved each other, and any argument fizzled out almost before it could get started. Raised by her grandmother, Claire had absorbed, practically from childhood, one central mantra the wise old woman repeated about family life: The home needs to be warm! There mustnt be anywhere your husband would rather be understood, cared for, or loved. Make your home a haven for everyone: husband, children, friends, petsno exceptions!
Claire used to nod along, not quite grasping the pointjust sensing her gran was passing on hard-earned wisdom. Her own family home had been like that. Warm, whole, safe. Until the day her grandfather died saving their son and his wife from drowning in a lazy-looking village stream. It looked harmless, but only locals knew to stay awaythe water hid all sorts of treacheries.
All these years, Margaret had quietly flogged herself for not asking more questions, for not warning her family. Had she done so in time, they might have survivedshe truly believed it. Claire had spent years insisting it wasnt her fault, but her gran wouldnt hear of it.
Margaret tucked her own grief away for her granddaughters sake, knowing Milly needed lifenot endless mourning. Only on rare trips to lay flowers at the cemetery did she fall apart completely, tearfully telling her lost ones about hers and Claires lives, promising over and over to do everything she could to see the girl happy.
And she did. She gave Claire a cosy, loving home, saw her through university, settled her into married life, and even managed some time with her great-granddaughter before illness took her away to join her loved ones. And there was Claire, suddenly alone. She had no other kin.
Eventually, she realised Margaret was spot-on about what makes a good homebut only up to a point. She was right about the everyone is welcome, but perhaps not about no exceptions.
Claire and David didnt have many issues worth fighting over. In reality, almost always just one: his mother.
Patricia Perkins was what you might call, in capital letters, a Mum. Her opinions, delivered with all the subtlety of the Kings decree, brooked no argument.
David, her sixth childand the only one who survived infancywas smothered in all of Patricias affection, or the affection she had at her disposal. He loved his mum, too, which possibly explained why he struggled to stand up to her, though not for lack of trying. He and his father had long adopted the nod and smile, then live as you see fit strategy.
When David started seeing Claire, he dragged his feet meeting her family, knowing exactly the sort of storm brewing. With Claires own gran, hed barely gone three days before introductions. Claire eventually confronted him, arms folded, with: Are you hiding me? Am I not good enough for your family? Are we just pretending at all this? After all, hed already been talking wedding plans with Gran.
David only kissed her and admitted, Im just worried youll run a mile after meeting them.
Dont be daft! Im marrying YOU, not your family! Oh, the naivety.
Patricia, upon meeting Claire, pinned her with a glance and asked, So, dear, what did your parents do?
Mum lectured at the medical college, Dad was a doctor. But I hardly knew themthey died when I was five. My gran raised me.
I see!
Not another word all evening. Years into their marriage, Claire started using her husband and father-in-laws approach: passive engagement, try to keep the peace, gloss over rows. But peace was hard-won and short-lived. David looked like hed been fighting a losing battle for years, and Claire finally requested they keep parental encounters to an absolute minimum. David sagged, hugging her, Im sorry.
Everything only grew trickier after Davids father passed away. Cancer took him in a month, and Patricia made it abundantly clear where the responsibility for keeping her company now lay. David didnt argue. Soon, he was at his mothers house daily after workhome only after midnight. This probably wouldve continued indefinitely, if not for three-year-old Millys rebellion. She started waving her father off, making it quite clear she wasnt impressed with the arrangement.
She misses you, Dave. She hardly sees you apart from weekends. Claire understood the dilemma, but something had to change before their daughter lost her bond with her dad altogether.
Eventually, Claire snapped. Patricia, after all, was perfectly healthy, running to the West End for the theatre, making David her reluctant plus-one. Claire herself could have survived her own empty eveningsbut not Millys.
David, you have to sort this. She needs you. And I need you. Claire pressed herself against her husband, I miss you
A spectacular row ensued. But David won the right to visit his mother only twice a week. In time, Patricia either got used to it or, more likely, pretended the arrangement was her idea.
One day, Millys nursery set a task: draw your family as fairy tale characters. The class didnt finish in time, so the teacher let them take it home. That night, after dinner, Milly set to work with determined concentration, tongue sticking out. Claire, having just finished the washing up, peered in Millys sketchbook and had to call David urgently:
David, brace yourselfcome here! Just look!
David glanced at the pageand promptly collapsed onto the sofa, unable to breathe for laughing. Milly gazed at her parents, utterly baffled by their mirth, until, wounded, she decided shed best cry.
I really tried, you know!
She checked her drawing, but it only confused her more. Daddy? A valiant knight. Mummy? A fairytale princess. Grandad? The Old Man of the Woods. Great-gran? A magical apple tree. But Granny… Well, what finer choice was there than a three-headed dragon? Drawing all those heads took ages! What was so funny? Of course, the flames didnt turn out quite right (her yellow pencil broke at the worst moment). Shed been going to ask Mum to sharpen it, but too lateshed seen the drawing.
Milly never cared much for Granny Pat. On the rare visitsmostly Christmasshed rather have locked her out than let her in. Something between the grown-ups was always off. Granny Pat was polite, never raised her voice, but Mum always seemed down or even in tears after she left. Milly, instincts razor-sharp, sensed Granny didnt like Mum and was desperate to protect her. Once, she even physically tried to shove Pat out the door, but Dad scooped her up before she got anywhere.
Your daughter is a thoroughly badly brought up little girl, David! Although I suppose I shouldve expected nothing better, really? Pat was scandalised.
After that, Granny Pat hardly dropped byrarely even at Christmas. David figured it was just as well. They still occasionally visited her, but as Milly grew, she cottoned on. Pats black-and-white rigidity was suffocating. But she only truly understood her grandmother after losing her dad.
David died with tragic suddennessone moment at his desk, the next gone. Just forty-four. No one at the office even had time to dial 999. An enormous heart attack.
When Claire received the call at work (she managed a jewellery shop), she dropped the phone and fainted. In the fall, she shattered a display case, and her horrified staff hustled her to a chair, picking the glass from her hair and dosing her with cup after cup of calming tea.
Claires world ground to a halt. She drifted from hour to hour, unable to do anything. Davids friends sorted out all the formalities, quietly running the house and making sure Milly was fed, the home was kept up, and Claire herself was coaxed to eat and drink.
And then, a fortnight after the funeral, Claire had a vivid dream.
Gran! Oh, Gran, how Ive missed you! Claire tried to hug Margaret, but her gran stepped back, sternly looking her in the eye.
What do you think youre playing at?
What do you mean, Gran?
Wheres Milly?
I imagine shes asleep
Come along! Gran, still out of reach, beckoned her. They went to Millys roomshe was in bed, blanket over her head, crying.
Asleep, you said? Claire, wake up!
Startled, Claire opened her eyesand at first, she thought she was still dreaming, as Milly’s sobbing continued. But within a minute, she realised it was real. She sprang into Millys room.
Oh, sweetheart, please dont cry! Im here! Ill always be here.
Milly turned, clung to her mum, holding her as tightly as she could.
Thank you, Gran How could I? You were always there for me I can do this now. Ill be alright
Next morning, Claire crept out to the kitchen. Before long, the smell of her legendary vanilla pancakes roused Milly out of her room, trailing her blanket.
Mum?
Good morning! Claire smiled, her gloomy mourning band finally off her haireven at breakfast, for the first time. Wash up, love. Lets have breakfastand then Ill run you to school.
Is it really time?
Claire turned off the hob and hugged Milly. Its time, sweetheart. Dad wouldnt want us moping in separate corners forever. He wanted you to be happy, to laugh and enjoy life as much as possible. He loved youoh, how he loved you! And me, too And thats how it will be. Now, hurry up. Or Ill be late for work!
Bit by bit, gently as they could, they began piecing a new life together. Claire went back to work; Milly went to schooland, quietly, started helping out more at home. Every night, Claire would come home to dinner made, or the house tidied by eager little hands.
A few months later, Milly received her first passport, and they celebrated the milestone with a small cake.
Look, Dad, Im all grown up now! Milly spun her passport in front of her fathers portrait above the sitting room fireplace. Youd have yanked my ponytail and said I was still your little girl
Claire just held her close, no words needed.
Then, one evening, Patricia showed up.
Evening, Claire! We have some things to discuss!
They hadnt spoken since the funeralwhen, after the service, Patricia had approached Claire and, in a hiss, said:
This is all your fault! If it wasnt for you, hed still be alive! Take, take, takeall you ever did! No wonder he burned out so young All your doing!
Claire wilted, and Davids friend, Paul, swept in, gently led her out, and sat her down on the bench outside the church.
Dont listen, Claire. Look at melook! Its just fate, nothing more. We all get our time. David loved you and Milly more than anything
She cried into Pauls shoulder, knees almost bucklingbarely eating or sleeping since the day it happened.
As everyone left the church, Claire even heard Patricia muttering something truly unkind, unbothered that Milly was right there, clutching her mums hand.
And now, here her mother-in-law was, perched at the kitchen table, lips pressed together, eyes sunken, all the years catching up with her.
Would you like some tea? Claire asked.
No! Im here to sort out whats happening with the house.
Claire wondered if shed misheard.
What do you mean?
She and David had spent years building their homeClaire, heavily pregnant with Milly, checking up on the builders (who half-jokingly referred to her as the boss, fussing over her as she stomped around in work boots). David teased, They wont get away with much while youre on site! Well be in by next month!
Moving in had been one of the happiest days of Claires life. This was her nest, every detail lovingly chosen.
Claire, those curtains are just like the other onesthe fabrics practically the same.
You have absolutely no style, the shade is completely different!
They could squabble for hours about such things, David always entertained.
And yet here was Patricia, telling her she couldnt live there.
Youll have to sell, said Patricia, finally steadying her tremulous hands. I want my half. I demand my share of the inheritance.
Inheritance?
Yes, by lawit comes to me. And I want my fair pound, down to the last penny.
They didnt see Milly quietly standing in the kitchen doorway.
Go away! the girl said, fists clenched.
Excuse me? Patricia stared in disbelief. What did you say?
I said go away! And dont come back.
How dare you speak to me like that? I knew you were ill-mannered, but reallythis is a new low
Inherited from Dad! Millys voice rang through the house.
No, more like your mother
Dont you dare! Dont ever dare to hurt my mum again! You still think Im just a child, that I dont understand? I do. Now leaveand well do our best never to see you again.
Somehow, in her agitation, Milly started addressing her grandmother with all the distance of a proper adult.
Snapping back into gear, Claire hugged Milly and led her from the kitchen.
Thank you, darling, but go to your room now. Let me handle this. She kissed her temple and nudged her along. Go on, off you go.
Milly went. Claire took a deep breath and returned.
What was that? Youve turned my granddaughter against meI can hardly believe it!
I havent influenced anyoneyouve done that yourself.
Patricia was about to object, but Claire cut her shortcalm but final, perhaps for the first time.
Thats enough. Millys right. Youre not welcome here. Ill get legal advice and let you know. Youll get everything youre legally owedand then, were done.
Dont count on it! snapped Patricia.
Im notIll just see it through. And you have my sympathy, Patricia. Claire surprised herself with the honest sorrow in her voice. Youre on your own, arent you? Really on your own.
Mind your own business! Patricia shrieked, grabbing her bag and storming out.
Milly, hearing the door bang, came back into the kitchen to find her mum with her head down on the table.
Mum?
Yes, sweetheart Claire wiped away her tears and looked up.
Is she serious? Are we really going to have to move?
I dont know yet. Well see Hold onshouldnt you be at school? You didnt call, and you still had two lessons left.
Maths got cancelled, Maxs mum gave me a lift. Didnt see the point in ringing.
Fair enough Lots of homework?
They soon drifted back into chatfamiliar topics restored, slowly thawing from the storm Patricia had threatened upon their home.
Mum, why do people hate each other? Why are they so angry all the time?
Insulated on the sofa, mother and daughter watched some film neither of them followedjust grateful for an excuse to sit close and talk.
There are loads of reasons. Are you thinking about your grandmother?
Yes. Why doesnt she love you, or me?
She has her reasons, I suppose. She didnt like me straight awayand I doubt she ever would, truthfully.
But why?
She was convinced Id come to steal her son away.
Did you?
No, of course not. I just wanted a family. I wanted to add to her familynot take away. To give her grandchildren Well, you, at least. I always thought parents would want more family to love
But she didnt really want me either?
Not quite. She was actually delighted when you were born. Wait! Claire left, then returned holding a tiny lace bonnet and a soft crocheted blanket. Your grandmother made these for you.
Milly examined the bonnet, tracing its minute stitches.
But this would have taken ages The detail! And the blanket She must have wanted me at least a little bit.
She did, Milly. You cant make something that beautiful if your hearts empty, can you? And she made it for a baby she was waiting for, thats for sure.
Milly was quiet, processing.
Why is she like this now?
I dont know, love. I think its just pain; grief and loneliness can turn people bitter. Sometimes you shut down, lash out, think everyone else must be awful because life feels so hard. Try not to hate Granny. Sometimes, pain just speaks for people. Perhaps its more pitiful than anything. At least weve got each otherand friends to lean on. Shes really all alone.
Milly fiddled with the blanket in silence.
The next day, Claire phoned Paul and asked him to find a solicitor. After her consultation, she knew the house would have to be sold. There was simply no other way. All their savings had long since gone into building the place.
She gave Milly the news. That night, browsing property listings in search of a flat, Milly had her own plans. The next morning, pretending to head to school, she went to see Granny Pat.
What are you doing here? Pat opened the door.
Wordlessly, Milly held out the bonnet and blanket.
Whats this? Pats voice, for once, trembled just a little.
Theyre beautiful. I know you made them for me.
Come in
That evening, Milly came and gave her mother a hug as she scrolled through listings for rentals.
Mum!
Mmm? Claire barely glanced up from the laptop.
We dont have to move.
What? Claire blinked.
I said, we dont have to move. I spoke to Granny.
Claire gawped, You did WHAT?
I went to see her and we talked. Shes going to refuse the inheritance.
I dont understand
I told her I didnt want her to be on her own. I gave her a choice: either she insists on her share and I forget I ever had a grandmother, or she lets us keep the house and I keep seeing her.
What did she say?
Here Milly set a package in her mothers lap.
Claire unwrapped it and gasped: Oh goodness, its beautiful!
I know! Im wearing it to my leaving ceremony. Itll fit me just right by then.
A full-length lace dress, light as snowflakes, intricate with needlework. Claire realized it must have taken ages to make.
Milly, do you even know how much effort this is?
I do. Shes hurting, Mum. She really misses Dad. She was crying, Mum
Granny Pat? Crying?
Yes
Claire was speechless. The phone rang in the living room. She picked it up.
Hello, Patricia.
Hello. Millys told you about our chat?
Just now.
So you know I wont lay claim to the house?
Yes Thank you. And the dress is gorgeous. Your hands are golden.
Lets not get carried away. One oclock tomorrow at the solicitors. Ill send you the address. Ill sign everything. And Claire?
Yes?
Milly is a wonderfully brought-up child.
Claire allowed herself to pause, listening to the dial tone for a while. Then she went to the kitchen and hugged her daughter tightly.
