You Didn’t Even Say Thank You

“Honestly, not even a ‘thank you’.
— Mum, come on, don’t start again now! — Edward snapped irritably, not even looking up from his phone. — I told you, I’m busy!
— Busy he is! — Margaret slapped the wet cloth down on the table. — Nearly forty years old, and still acting like a schoolboy! Edward, I’m begging you, go and see Nana. She phoned yesterday, complaining she feels awful!
— Mum, I’ve got a meeting in an hour! It’s important! — Edward finally tore his eyes from the screen, glaring at his mother. — I’ll go later this evening, or tomorrow.
— Tomorrow, the day after… — Margaret sank into a chair opposite him with a tired sigh. — Your nana is eighty-three years old. You keep finding reasons not to visit her.
— Don’t start that record! — Edward stood up, stuffing his phone in his pocket. — I’m working, understand? Earning money! Not like some people who only know how to nag!
Margaret flinched at her son’s harshness but stayed silent. She was used to these rows. Edward had always been abrupt, especially about family duties.
— Fine, — she said quietly. — Then I’ll go myself. Trouble is, the car’s in the garage, and the bus takes two hours each way…
— So what? — Edward pulled on his jacket. — Take the bus then, what’s the big deal? Or call a taxi!
— Taxis are dear, son. My pension’s small, you know that.
— Yeah, yeah! — Edward was already at the door. — Listen, Mum, let’s talk later, alright? I really must dash!
The door slammed. Margaret was left alone in the kitchen, the smell of the stew she’d prepared still hanging in the air. Edward hadn’t touched a bite.
She walked to the window, watching her son climb into his new car. A smart, expensive thing. Edward was proud of it, often boasting to mates about its features. But he couldn’t find the time to drive his own nana somewhere.
Margaret pulled her worn purse from her handbag, counting the notes. A taxi to Nana’s would indeed cost too much. Bus it was.
She picked up the bag of treats for her mother-in-law, wrapped a headscarf over her hair, and stepped outside. The bus stop was a good fifteen-minute walk. Margaret walked slowly, stopping occasionally to catch her breath. Her heart had been playing up lately, but she hadn’t seen the doctor. No time, really, and the cost put her off.
At the stop, she waited half an hour. The bus arrived packed; Margaret squeezed inside with difficulty. It was a long journey with changes. Young people sat glued to their phones with headphones on. No one offered their seat to the elderly woman.
Finally, she reached the little village where Edward’s nana lived. A small cottage sat on the outskirts, surrounded by an overgrown garden. Margaret opened the gate and walked the path to the front door.
— Nana! — she called, knocking. — It’s me, Margaret!
The door didn’t open immediately. Maude Ellis, her late husband’s mother, stood leaning on her stick. The old woman had visibly lost weight since Margaret last saw her.
— Maggie, love! — she beamed. — Oh, it’s grand you’ve come! Get yourself in!
— How are you keeping, Nana? — Margaret hugged her gently, kissing her cheek. — You’ve gone ever so thin.
— Oh, well… — Maude ushered her into the sitting room. — No appetite, really. And my sleep’s gone to pot. Just aches and pains all over…
— Been to the doctor?
— Oh, aye. They say it’s age. What can you expect, eighty-three years old. — She gestured Margaret towards the table. — Cup of tea?
— Absolutely. — Margaret unpacked the bag. — Here, brought you some stew, and sausages, and cheese pasties.
— Oh, bless you, my dear! — Maude smiled broadly. — But where’s young Edward? I’ve missed seeing him.
Margaret paused, pouring the tea.
— He’s very busy with work, Nana. Lots on.
— I see, — Maude nodded. I know, men must work. It’s just… — she hesitated, then added softly, — I just miss him terribly. My only grandson.
— I know, Nana. He misses you too, just hasn’t the time.
— No, Maggie love, — Maude shook her head gently. — He doesn’t miss me. If he did, he’d make time. You did.
Margaret didn’t know how to respond. She’d thought it herself. Edward *could* make time for his nana if he chose. But he didn’t. Sitting in this old cottage, listening to tales of ailments and the past, held no appeal.
— Tell me how you are, — Margaret asked instead.
— Oh, what’s to tell? — Maude shrugged. — Get up, breakfast, potter about. Mary next door pops in sometimes. Otherwise, just me and the telly. Though it’s all grim news these days.
— And your health?
— Not good, Maggie. Proper poorly. My heart’s playing up, sharp pains in my chest. Get dizzy spells too. Took a tumble right in the kitchen yesterday. Blessedly, I grabbed the table.
— Oh, Nana! — Margaret was alarmed. — Why didn’t you say something? Should I call an ambulance?
— What good’s that? They’d come, cluck about age, prescribe dear pills my pension can’t cover.
— Don’t fret about money. We’ll help with the medicine.
— Edward will help? — Maude asked, hope flaring.
— Of course he will, — Margaret lied. She knew explaining, persuading Edward would mean his irritation over extra bills.
They talked all afternoon. Maude chatted about neighbours, her ailments, how she missed her late son. Margaret listened, nodded, and made supper in the tiny kitchen.
— Maggie,— Maude said as it grew dark. — Could you stay the night? I get a bit frightened alone…
— Absolutely, Nana. Won’t leave you.
The next morning, Margaret took Maude to the local GP surgery. A young, weary doctor saw her quickly, wrote a prescription.
— Take these exactly as directed, — he said. — And phone NHS direct or 999 if it gets worse.
— Doctor, — Margaret asked timidly. — Is it serious?
— At her age, everything’s serious, — he replied. — Weak heart, blood pressure jumps. Needs regular care.
Walking home, Maude held Margaret’s arm tightly.
— Thank you, my dear, — she murmured. — You’re like a daughter to me. Better than a daughter.
— Don’t say that, Nana. We’re family.
— Family… — Maude repeated sadly. — But Edward doesn’t count me as family.
— Don’t say that. He’s still young, doesn’t understand.
— Forty is young? — Maude stopped walking. — No, Maggie love. He understands. He just doesn’t care.
Later, Margaret prepared to leave. Maude saw her to the gate.
— Come again soon, please, — she pleaded. — It’s ever so nice having you…
— I will, Nana. Promise. I’ll bring Edward too.
— Don’t promise if you’re not sure. Better just be honest, love.
— I *will* bring him, — Margaret insisted firmly.
She got home late. Edward was in the kitchen, eating reheated dinner.
— So, Nana alright? — he asked, eyes on his plate.
— Not at all alright. Really poorly.
— How poorly?
— Her heart’s bad. Blood pressure bouncing. Doctor says she needs constant looking after.
— And what do you suggest? — Edward
David vowed to visit often but invariably let work deadlines and weekend leisure pave over every good intention, leaving Lily waiting with fading hope for his promised calls and visits until her final lonely days arrived unannounced.