Did you actually put him on the tenancy register? Sam’s jaw dropped. His mum had never even hinted at something like that.
And why not? Whats wrong with a little sidekick, Ian? she muttered, halfwhispering as she kept glancing at the new lodger.
Hes already forty, Mum he should have his own flat by now!
Sams dad died when he was thirteen; his sister Katie was only three. No one else could lend a hand their maternal grandmother had passed away two years earlier and there were no other relatives in sight.
To be honest, Sam wasnt devastated by his father’s loss. The old chap was always off on night shifts, so the family barely saw him. Still, he used to bring home a decent paycheck, and now the household was surviving on Mums modest shopassistant wage.
Mum was a bit of a wreck without her provider. She seemed to have lost her bearings, and Sam did what he could: took on odd jobs, helped around the house, looked after Katie. He didnt protest when, a year later, Mum introduced a bloke called Nicholas into the flat.
Nicholas turned out to be a complete stranger, but Mum suddenly started smiling again, looking younger, as if shed found a fresh coat of paint for the old kitchen. The honeymoon only lasted a couple of months before Nicholas vanished.
Turns out hes married, Sam overheard Mum sobbing to the neighbour. He was just on a business trip. Of course its nicer to stay in a cosy flat than a hotel!
Oh, dear, Anna, the neighbour sighed. Youve got two kids youd be better off looking after them than chasing after random gentlemen.
Next came gruff Stephen, who liked to call Mum his little swan and Sam and Katie his little ducks. He lasted six months. Then came gentle Oliver, quiet, polite, and barely noticeable; he managed three months before bowing out.
Sam never understood why Mums luck with men was so terrible. She was pretty, tidy, caring After Oliver, there was a lull.
I dont need anyone, announced Anne to the same neighbour. Ive got good kids; Ill raise them and be happy.
Sam let out a relieved sigh. He was sixteen then and dreaming of a university place in another city.
Thanks to his late grandmother, Sam had started school at six, so he couldnt leave without Mums blessing, and he couldnt abandon Katie to a house full of male suitors either.
Nonsense, love! Mum flapped her hands when he stammered about his plans near the end of year eleven. Of course you should go! Katie and I will manage. Im not sure I can help you financially, though, she added sadly.
Ill sort myself out, Sam said, puffing up. Are you sure youll manage?
Absolutely.
He didnt yet know that Mums lighthearted go on had a hidden agenda. He got into university, moved into a hall of residence, studied hard and took evening shifts. It wasnt easy, but Sam was ready for a challenge.
What he hadnt prepared for was missing Mum and especially Katie.
The two were inseparable; Katie looked at him like a superhero and obeyed his every word. She burst into tears when she learned he was leaving, then solemnly declared it was for the best and that shed wait for him.
A few months after Sam had gone, Katies phone calls, which usually came every three days, turned sluggish and mournful. One day she broke down completely.
Alright, my little mite, Sam commanded gently. Dry those tears and tell me whats wrong. No fibbing, remember we never lie.
She obeyed, and within five minutes Sams skin prickled with the news.
Turns out, as soon as Sam was out the door, Mum brought home Uncle Ian a boisterous fellow who immediately claimed ownership of the house.
Ian was a regular electrician for a small local firm, balding, redcheeked, and not exactly a heartbreaker. He acted like the king of the castle, treating Mum like a doormat and ignoring Katie completely. Eightyearold Katie walked to a school two streets away on her own and came home alone. Mum stopped escorting her to the swimming pool and theatre lessons: If you want to go, go yourself. Learn to be independent.
Ian believed Katie should cook, wash, and iron for herself, and he was quick to enforce his ideas. Mum tried to push back, but it didnt last long. Katie wasnt allowed out of her room without Ians permission, and she had to stay out of his sight as much as possible.
Whats Mum done, gone bananas?! Sam exploded after hearing Katies tale. Ill talk to her! Dont cry, my little mite, Ill sort this.
But it didnt go well.
Have I not earned a bit of happiness? Mum retorted when Sam accused her of making Katie suffer. Ians a great bloke! Katies just a bit spoiled; she needs discipline.
Katie? Mum usually called her Katie, but in rare moments of anger shed revert to Katherine. Now the name seemed to carry a new weight.
Mum, are you feeling alright? Is anything hurting you? Sam asked cautiously.
I feel splendid, Mum snapped, then softened: Katies just overreacting She misses you, so shes making a fuss.
Sam wasnt sure whether Katie was fabricating or Mum was telling the truth, but he had no reason to distrust either. He tried to focus on his studies, aiming to finish his exams early and land a job.
Money was tight; Sam didnt drink, smoke, or hit the clubs, yet his bank balance stayed stubbornly low.
He passed his exams with flying colours, but had to turn down the first job offer.
Im scared of him, Katie wailed into the phone, making Sams heart pound. Mum and he argue all the time, they never leave their rooms, and sometimes he roams the flat in his birthday suit
Wait, what?!
Yes, Katie repeated, shaking. Im scared of him.
Sams imagination had never been particularly vivid, but now he painted all sorts of grim pictures. He hopped on the first bus home and, sure enough, discovered Katies fear was justified.
Ian strutted about the flat like a peacock, looked down on Sam, and shouted at Mum:
Your sons here, yet you havent even set a proper table for the gentlemen!
Mum smiled coyly at Ian: Hold on, Ian, well get there.
Sam didnt join Ian for a drink. He retreated to Katies room, where she was now sobbing with relief.
From the hallway, Sam heard Ian mutter to Mum: Hes raised no respect for his elders, to which she replied with a nervous murmur.
It took Sam a couple of days to realise Katie wasnt making it up. Ian was running the house like a dictator. He tried to order Sam around, but Sam snapped back instantly.
No ones telling me what to do in my own home!
Ah Ian threatened, snarling. Look, your son doesnt see me as a person. Explain that.
Son, why are you losing it? Mum hurried in. Ians also on the register you two should sort it out, now were all living together
Did you register him? Sam could barely contain his astonishment. Mum had never even considered that.
Well, whats wrong? Why should Ian be a permanent lodger? she whispered, glancing at him.
Hes forty, Mum he ought to have his own place!
While they bickered, the front door slammed. Ian, evidently fed up, stalked out. Mum flinched, halfrunning after him, but Sam held her back.
Mum, whats happening? he tried to meet her eyes. Is he feeding you something? Should we see a doctor?
What do you know? Mum burst into tears. I think Ive finally fallen in love! And Ian loves me! Do you think its easy to live without a husband? she wailed.
Sam was at a loss. He felt sorry for Mum, for Katie, and for himself he couldnt abandon either of them. His university term slipped into a blur of tears.
The biggest problem, though, was getting rid of Uncle Ian.
Pleasing Mum didnt move him; it was as if Ian had brainwashed her.
Sam turned to the internet for a solution.
Mum, either you kick Ian out, or Ill take you to court, he declared firmly.
What court, love? Ian lives here legally, Mum replied, equally firm.
Well see. You registered him when I was a minor; now everythings changed. Think about it, Sam pressed on.
Ian, unwilling to face the embarrassment of a courtroom, packed his bags and left two days later.
Mum now cast apologetic, tearfilled glances at Sam, then brightened a bit and started disappearing around the house, as if shed reconciled with her new beau.
Sam switched to distance learning and landed a job back in his hometown. He hopes Mum will come to her senses, but for now hell keep an eye on things just in case anything else goes pearshaped.
