My dear daughter dropped a bombshell on meshe told me I had to be out of my flat by tomorrow.
The kettle whistled softly on the stove while Elaine sorted through her little packets of tea. Chamomile, peppermint, Earl Grey Vicky had brought them back from her last business trip to London. Elaine smiled, remembering how her daughter had proudly handed her the keys to this flat five years ago.
“Now youll have your own place, Mum,” Vicky had said back then. “No more rented rooms or shared spaces.”
The old kitchen had become her favourite spot. Everything here felt warm and familiarthe worn-out tablecloth, the pots of geraniums on the windowsill, even the crack in the tile near the stove seemed like part of the family. She was just about to pour herself a cuppa when the doorbell rang.
Vicky stood on the doorstepsharp in a business suit, hair perfectly styled, face unreadable.
“Mum, we need to talk.”
Elaine stepped aside, letting her in. Something in her daughters voice made her chest tighten.
“Come in, love. Ive just brewed your favouritethat Earl Grey you brought back.”
“No, thanks,” Vicky stayed rooted in the middle of the kitchen. “I wont be long. Mum, I need you to move out. By tomorrow.”
Elaine froze, the teapot still in her hand. She mustve misheard.
“Sorry, what?”
“The flat needs to be empty. Tomorrow. I cant delay this any longer.”
Hot tea sloshed onto her hand, but she barely felt the sting.
“Vicky, I dontthis is my home. You gave it to me.”
“Its just a flat, Mum.” Vicky pulled out her phone, scrolling through something. “Youve stayed here, but I cant keep supporting you.”
“Supporting me?” Elaine let out a nervous laugh. “Love, I pay the bills, I clean”
“Mum, lets not do this.” Vicky winced. “The decisions made. Leave the keys on the table.”
She turned to leave, but Elaine grabbed her wrist.
“Wait! At least explainwhy? Whats happened?”
“Nothings happened. Its just business, Mum. The flat could be rented for more.”
The door clicked shut, and Elaine was alone. A ringing filled her ears. She sank onto a stool, staring at the spilled tea. The evening sun danced in the puddle, golden and mocking.
Like she was sleepwalking, she drifted into the bedroom. Photos lined the wallsVicky at graduation, radiant in a white dress. Another of them at the seaside, her daughter building a sandcastle while Elaine laughed, trying to shield it from the waves. Shed sold her cottage back then to pay for Vickys university. Had it been a sacrifice? No. Just love.
“Sweetheart,” Elaine whispered, tracing the photo. “How did we get here?”
Night crept in. She packed mechanically into an old suitcase, pausing now and then to take in the flats detailsthe chipped paint in the corner shed meant to fix, the warm glow of her favourite lamp, the shadow of the geranium on the wall. Every little thing suddenly precious.
Somewhere deep down, she hoped the phone would ring in the morningVicky saying it was all a mistake. A stupid joke. Anything. But the phone stayed silent, and the clock ticked away her last hours in the place shed called home.
The first night was stifling. Elaine sat on a park bench, clutching her battered suitcase, staring at the stars. Somewhere out there, people were asleep in warm beds, and sheGod, how had it come to this?
Shed left the keys on the kitchen table, polished them with a napkin. For some reason, it mattered that they shined. Maybe Vicky would notice and remember how her mum always cared about the little things.
“Evening,” came a rough voice beside her. Elaine startled. A scruffy bloke in a worn-out jacket sat at the other end of the bench. “Dont mind mejust restin my feet. You stayin out too?”
She hugged the suitcase tighter. “No, Ijust fancied a walk.”
He chuckled. “At three in the mornin? With a suitcase?”
“Yeah, well,” she tried to smile, but her lips trembled. “I like night walks.”
“Right.” He pulled an apple from his pocket, offering it. “Want one? Just washed it in the fountain.”
She shook her head, but her stomach betrayed her with a growl. She hadnt eaten since yesterday.
“Names Simon, by the way,” he took a bite. “Been out here three months. Wife kicked me out. You?”
“Daughter,” she murmured, surprising herself with the honesty.
“Ah.” Simon shook his head. “Kids these days Different breed. My lads in Americabeen waitin two years for a call.”
By dawn, the air turned crisp. Elaine dozed against the bench. Simon had left hours ago, slipping her a second apple and an address for a shelter. “Its warm there,” hed said. “Sometimes they feed ya.”
When the sky lightened, she stood, stiff from the cold. Where to go? The shelter didnt feel right, not yet. Maybe Anne? Her neighbour had always been kind, popping over for tea sometimes
Knocking on Annes door was harder than she expected. Her hand hovered, hesitated, then finally tapped.
“Elaine?” Anne appeared in a floral dressing gown. “Bloody hellyou look like death warmed up!”
“Anne” her voice wobbled. “Can I stay with you? Just a few days?”
Annes tiny kitchen smelled of sugar and baking. Shed been making sconesa morning treat.
“Well, I always said you spoiled her,” Anne sighed, listening to Elaines jumbled story. “Remember when she snapped at you on your birthday? And you just brushed it offOh, my darling girl this and that.”
“Dont, Anne.”
“I will, Elaine!” Anne smacked her cup down. “How longve you been kidding yourself? Shes always been like this. Remember when you gave her your savings for that wedding? Not even a ta!”
Elaine watched the city wake through the window. Somewhere out there, people hurried to workpeople with homes, families, certainty.
“Youll bounce back, love,” Anne squeezed her shoulder. “You always do.”
Three days passed in a blur. Elaine tried to make herself usefulcooking, cleaning, even fixing Annes leaky tap. But with each day, she felt more like a burden.
“Robert!” she suddenly remembered, flipping through an old address book. A family friend, worked with her late husband. Hed offered help years ago
Dialling his number was terrifying. What if he didnt remember her? Worsewhat if he remembered and said no?
“Hello, Robert? Its Elaine Elaine Carter.”
An hour later, she sat in his cluttered officea tiny room attached to a city shelter where Robert worked as manager.
“So, your daughter kicked you out?” He tapped his pencil. “Right Well, our cook just quit. Temporary, mind you, but still Can you cook?”
“Ive been doing it my whole” Elaine faltered. “But where would I live?”
“Youll live here,” Robert smiled. “Theres a staff roomsmall, mind. But its yours. Youre tougher than you think, Elaine. Youll manage.”
That evening, she stepped into the shelter not as a guest, but as staff. The smell of stew mixed with bleach. Voices hummed in the dining hallpeople from all walks of life. An old man in a threadbare jacket chatted animatedly with a young mum. Simon (of all people!) was helping set the tables.
“Elaine!” A middle-aged woman waved her over. “Im TamaraIll show you the ropes. Dont worry, loveweve all been through something.”
Her little staff room was clean, unexpectedly cosy. She sat on the bed, pulling out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Vickys number No. Not yet.
“Well then,” she said to her reflection in the window. “Life goes on, eh?”
Three months flew by. Elaine settled into the workcooking for a crowd was oddly fun. Being busy left less room for the ache in her chest.
“Elaine!” Tamara peeked into the kitchen. “New girl just came inhardly more than a kid. Fancy making her a cuppa?”
In the dining hall, a thin girl in an oversized jumper picked at her sleeves.
“Fancy some tea?” Elaine set down a cup. “Earl Grey. From London.”
The girl looked up, eyes red. “Ta. You been here long?”
“Three months,” Elaine sat beside her. “Thought it was the end of the world at first. Turns out its the
