“You’re a Monster, Mum! Kids aren’t for people like you!”
She kept studying, burying herself in books. One day, she went out with friends to a nightclub in London and met Richard. Handsome, with his parents abroad for work, she fell head over heels and quickly moved in with him.
They lived largehis parents sent money. Every night was either parties out or parties in. At first, Eleanor loved it. Before she knew it, she was drowning in debt, skipping lectures, and failing her winter exams. She was on the verge of being kicked out.
She promised to change and retake the tests. Buried in books, she barely noticed when Richards mates came over, locking herself in the loo to study. She scraped through but begged Richard to tone it down. He was in his final year, nearly done.
“Dont be daft, Eleanor. You only live once. Youth doesnt last. When else are we supposed to have fun?” he shot back, unbothered.
She was too ashamed to tell her mum they werent married. Every call home was a lieclaiming theyd tied the knot quietly and would celebrate properly when his parents returned.
Then, one day, Eleanor felt sick in class. Dizzy, nauseous. Horror struckshe was pregnant. The test confirmed her worst fear.
At first, Richard insisted she get rid of it. They fought like never before, and he vanished for two days. When he returned, he wasnt alone. A drunk blonde clung to him, barely standing. Exhausted, Eleanor screamed at him, trying to shove the girl out.
“Shes not going anywhere. If you dont like it, *you* can leave, you mad cow!” he shouted, shoving her hard.
She grabbed her coat and ran. Walked all the way to student halls, face swollen, mascara streaked, banging on the door. The porter took pity and let her in.
Next day, Richard turned up, begging forgiveness, swearing hed never touch her again, pleading for her to come back. For the babys sake, she believed him.
She barely passed first year. Too scared to go homewhat would her mum say? But staying in London terrified her too. Richards parents were due back, and she was pregnant, a mess.
When they arrived and learned Eleanor was from up north and barely scraping by, his father gave her a brutal ultimatum: take the money and leave his son alone.
“Think about itwhat kind of dad would he be? All he cares about is partying. And whos to say the kids even his? Take the cash and go home. Trust me, its for the best.”
Humiliated, Eleanor refused, though shed regret it later. Richard stayed silent. She packed her bags and went back to her mum.
The second her mum saw the bump at the door, she knew.
“So, youre back alone? Didnt marry him, then. The London boy had his fun and kicked you out? Did he at least give you money?” she snapped, not letting her past the doorstep.
“Mum, how can you? I dont want his money.”
“Then why come here? This flats barely big enough for two. I thought youd landed on your feetmarried to some posh Londoner. Instead, youre knocked up. Where are we supposed to fit? And with a kid?”
“We?” Eleanor frowned.
“While you were gone, I met someone. Im still youngI deserve happiness too. Raised you alone, never thought of myself. Now its my turn. Hes younger. I wont have him eyeing you up.”
“Where am I supposed to go, Mum? The babys due soon,” she whispered, choking back tears.
“Go back to the father. Let *him* take care of you.”
Her mum was ice. No warmth, no pityjust a stranger shutting the door.
Eleanor sat on a bench and sobbed. Where could she go? If her own mother didnt want her, who would? For a moment, she thought of stepping in front of a car. Then the baby kickedlike it sensed danger. She couldnt do it.
“Eleanor?” A voice cut through. Sophie, an old school friend, found her therepregnant, weepingand took her in.
“Stay with me. My parents are in the countryside till autumn. Well figure it out.”
She had no choice but to accept.
Sophie worked at a hospital, training to be a nurse. Two days later, she rushed inan elderly woman needed a carer. Her daughter refused to take her in.
“Didnt tell her youre pregnant. Come on, this is your chance.”
Eleanor hesitated. How could she care for a bedridden woman *and* a baby? But she was desperate.
The daughter, sharp-tongued and cold, agreedbut only if Eleanor took the old womans pension for expenses. “The house is *mine*. Dont get any ideas.”
So Eleanor moved in with Mrs. Wilkins, tending to her, sharing her story. When little Matilda was born, the old woman even helped soothe her.
Time passed. Matilda took her first steps, but Mrs. Wilkins grew weaker. After she died, the daughter showed upjust for the funeraland demanded Eleanor leave.
“I warned you the house wasnt yours.”
But while sorting papers, they found a will. The flat was Eleanors. The daughter raged, threatening court, but neighbours vouched for Eleanors care.
With a home at last, she worked hard, raising Matilda. Years later, her mum reappeared, claiming she was ill, had sold her flat for treatment. Out of pity, Eleanor took her in.
Until she overheard a phone call: “Shes not listening skimming rent money Ill be there soon”
All lies. Her mum had never sold the flatjust rented it out to fund some boyfriend.
“*Mum*! Youre a monster! Lying to me again!”
“Wait, its not what you think”
“I dont care. Get out of my house.”
Sophie tried to calm her: “You dont choose family. She messed up, but shes still your mum.”
Eleanor relentedbut her mum had already gone. Years later, when she fell truly ill, Eleanor cared for her till the end.
Hate just breeds more hate. If a mother cant love her daughter, what love can she expect in return? But a mother…
