“Take him away, someone”
“Laura, are you out of your mind? What do you mean, ‘take him’? Paul is your son! You cant just hand him over like some unwanted baggage!” Margaret stood in the middle of the kitchen, gripping a tea towel so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Laura sat at the table, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the lace tablecloth.
“Mum, why are you making such a scene?” She leaned back in her chair, feigning indifference. “Im not obligated to sacrifice my life for a child. Im only thirty-two, in case youve forgotten.”
Margaret sank into the chair opposite, her chest tightening with dread. Laura pressed on.
“Ive finally met a good man, Mum. Daniels proposed. We want to move in together, start fresh.” Laura met her mothers gaze. “But Paul hell just get in the way. You understandnew relationship, adjustments, all that.”
“Pauls only twelve, Laura!” Margarets voice trembled. “He needs his mother. Hell know youve tossed him aside forfor Daniel.”
Laura flinched but quickly composed herself, waving a hand dismissively.
“Dont be dramatic, Mum. Itll be fine. I need to sort my life out, not spend every second fussing over him. Besides, hes old enough to manage. Plenty of boys his age are independent.”
Margaret stared, struggling to recognise the woman before her. When had her sweet girl become so selfish? She rose and moved to the window.
“No, Laura. Absolutely not.” Margaret turned back sharply. “You cant do this to your own son.”
“Oh, here we go again!” Laura snatched her handbag from the chair. “I thought youd understand. Support me. But fineIll handle it myself.”
The door slammed behind her. Margaret stood frozen, staring at the emptiness where her daughter had been. Her heart ached with foreboding.
Three months later, Margaret stood in a banquet hall, watching her daughters wedding. Laughter and music filled the air, but joy eluded her. She smiled at guests, exchanged pleasantries, yet unease gnawed at her insides.
Finally, she approached the newlyweds. Daniel was regaling his friends with some story, Laura radiant beside him in white lace.
“Laura,” Margaret touched her daughters shoulder. “Wheres Paul? I dont see him.”
Laura whirled around, irritation flashing in her eyes. She seized Margarets arm and pulled her aside.
“Mum, have you lost it? Why bring him up now?”
“Where is your son? Is he not at his own mothers wedding?”
Laura pressed her lips together, gaze darting away.
“Daniel doesnt get on with Paul.” The words rushed out, brittle. “So he stayed home. No point spoiling the day, right? Hed have been bored anyway.”
Margaret stepped back, eyes widening. Her chest constricted.
“You left a twelve-year-old alone on your wedding day because your new husband doesnt like him?” Her voice shook with rage. “Laura, whats happened to you? Hes your child!”
“Mum, dont make a scene!” Laura glanced nervously at the guests. “This is my day. Dont ruin it.”
Margaret turned and walked out. Laura called after her, but she didnt look back. A cab took her to Primrose Lane, number eighteen.
The entire ride, Margaret thought of Paul. Was he crying? Scared? His father gone, now abandoned by his mother.
She reached the fourth floor and knocked.
“Paul? Its Gran! Open up, love.”
Footsteps. The door cracked open. Paul stood theremessy-haired, eyes red.
“Gran is it really you?”
“Of course, darling.” She pulled him into a fierce hug.
His small voice trembled. “Gran does Mum not love me anymore? She left me here. Said to stay quiet.”
Margaret held him tighter. “Pack your things, love. Youre coming home with me.”
As Paul gathered his belongings, Margaret texted Laura: *”Pauls staying with me.”*
The reply came instantly: *”See? I told you this was the answer.”*
Margaret turned off her phone.
Her two-bedroom flat fit them both. Paul took Lauras old room. He was quiet at first, withdrawn, but Margaret coaxed him out.
“Paul, want to learn how to make the best pancakes in the world?”
He nodded, and they stood side by side at the stove, mixing batter.
“Gran why doesnt Mum call?”
Margaret paused. “Grown-ups make mistakes, love. Big ones. But its not your fault. Youre wonderful, and I love you.”
Life settled. Margaret enrolled Paul in swimming and codinghed always wanted to design games. He blossomed, grew confident.
Years slipped by. Paul became a tall, steady young man. Laura called only a handful of times, always for paperwork. Shed had a daughter with Daniel, her new family glowing in sparse social media posts.
On Pauls eighteenth birthday, after the last guest left, Margaret turned to him.
“Paul theres something you should know.”
She explained the willhow his father, before passing, had left him the flat Laura lived in.
Paul stared. “Its mine?”
Margaret nodded.
Two weeks later, Laura called at dawn, hysterical.
“Mum, what have you done? Pauls threatening to evict us!”
Margaret exhaled. “That flat is his, Laura. His fathers gift. Youve ignored him for years, but you want his home? No.”
Laura shrieked about her family, her life.
“Ask Daniel to house you,” Margaret said coldly. “Not in a boys home you cast him out of.”
She hung up.
Paul stood in the doorway, smiling faintly.
“Thank you, Gran.”
She smiled back. “Well get your home back, love.”
He hugged her tightlyjust as shed hugged him years ago at that wedding.
“Gran, youve been my mum and dad. I love you. Ill never leave you. Were family.”
