And where do you think you’re going? Veronicas voice dripped with disapproval.
Emily sighed heavily, fastening her bag. Her chest tightened at her mothers familiar tone, the one that always meant another interrogation was coming.
To work, Mum, she replied, forcing calm into her voice.
What work?! Veronicas voice shot up an octave. Youre not on the rota today! I remember! Where are you really going? Spit it out!
Emily turned to face her. Her mother stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
They asked me to cover a shift at the shop. Extra cash never hurts, she explained flatly.
Youre lying! her mother snapped, stepping closer. Think I dont know? Off gallivanting with some lad, more like! Ungrateful! I raised you, gave up everything for you, and this is how you repay me?
Veronica was properly worked up now, her face flushing red.
Emily met her eyes. The exhaustion and years of pent-up hurt in her gaze made Veronica pause for a split second.
You can come with me if you dont believe me, Emily said quietly, then walked out without waiting for an answer.
She could hear her mother shouting something behind her, but the words were lost in the slam of the door.
Walking to work, Emilys thoughts fluttered like trapped birds. Twenty-four. She was twenty-four, and yet she lived under this scrutiny like she was twelve. It wasnt right, she thought, sidestepping a puddle on the pavement. Other girls her age had their own places, careers, boyfriends. And her? She hadnt even made it to university.
The memory stung. Shed dreamed of studying education. Shed revised, passed her A-levels, even got the grades. But her mother had thrown such a fit, such a scene, that Emily had given in.
What do you need uni for? Prancing about God knows where like those other students! And me? Wholl look after me? Veronica had shrieked.
So Emily had relented. Folded, as usual, under her mothers pressure.
It was her mum who got her the job at the corner shop. Five minutes walk, no farther.
“So I know where you are,” Veronica had said.
And she checked. Regularly. Shed show up mid-shift under the pretence of buying milk or breadreally just making sure her daughter hadnt dared to stray.
It had started much earlier, though. Emily remembered being a teen. Home to school and backstrict schedule. Her mother timed it. Two minutes late meant a full inquisition: where were you, who talked to you, why the delay? Wanting to hang with classmates after school? Scandal. A birthday party invite? Hours of begging, tears, and in the endstill no.
“Who knows what goes on at those parties,” her mother would say dismissively.
Emily pushed open the shops heavy door. The familiar jingle of the bell, the smell of fresh pastries from the bakery section. She slipped into the back room, changed into her uniform, and stepped onto the shop floor.
Somehow, shed accepted it. Day after day, year after year. As she stocked shelves, she overheard her coworkersHannah and Beth, girls around her agechatting excitedly about weekend plans.
Were trying that new café Saturday, Hannah chirped. Then the late cinema showing!
Perfect! Beth grinned. And if the weathers nice Sunday, we can just walk through the park.
Emily turned away. Her weekend plans? Home. And Mum. As always. Cleaning, cooking, telly under Veronicas watchful eye.
Two days later. Weekend breakfast. Emily mechanically chewed her porridge, lost in thought. The rebellion simmering inside her had finally hardened into a decision.
Veronica slapped the table. Emily jumped, her spoon clattering.
Whats that face for? Like youve lost a tenner and found a penny. Out with it! her mother demanded.
Emily looked up. Her heart hammered, mouth dry. The words tumbled out:
I want to move out.
A heavy silence swallowed the kitchen. Veronicas face darkenedpink, then red, then purple.
Move out? You? Have you lost the plot? her mother finally hissed. Only here, where I can protect you, are you safe! Out there, youll drown! The worlds cruel, men are all liars
Mum, other people manage, Emily tried, but Veronica cut her off.
If you mention leaving again, her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, Ill lock you in this flat. No going out. Ever. Understood?
Emily stared, tears spilling freely.
Why? she whispered. Why do this to me?
Veronica leaned back, something smug flickering behind her anger.
No reason. I had you for me, not so you could wander wherever. You stay. Always.
Emily froze. The words hit like ice water. Had her for her. Not love, not joy. For her. Like a thing. A pet.
Veronica scoffed and stood, leaving Emily alone to digest it.
The next two days, Emily played perfect. No arguments, no defiance. Veronica thawed, deciding her daughter had learned her lesson. She even smiled once, praised the dinner.
But Emily had made up her mind. Before her next shift, she secretly tucked her passport and the meagre savings shed hidden from her mothers prying eyes into her bag. Shed stashed the notes under her mattress, pound by pound.
After her shift, she didnt go home. She knocked on the managers office.
David, her voice shook, I need to quit. Today. No notice. Please.
He frowned. Emily was reliablenever late, never absent.
Whats wrong?
She hesitated, then spilled itthe control, the suffocation, the impossibility of a life.
David thought, then offered:
Listen, weve a branch across town. I can transfer you. Same pay. Your mumll have a harder time tracking you there.
Emily accepted gratefully. She left with a new contract, then found a room£500 a month, nothing fancy, but a start.
At the bus stop, she snapped her SIM card in half and tossed it. Shed get a new one tomorrow. That number? Only her mum and a few coworkers knew it. Gone.
A week in the tiny bedsit, peeling wallpaper and all, felt like a palace. She could wake when she wanted, eat what she liked, and breatheproperly breathe.
Sometimes her hand still twitched toward her phone. The habit of reporting every move ran deep. But she stopped herself. One call, and her mother would find her, drag her back.
It was terrifying. Loneliness crashed over her sometimes, making her doubt. But then she remembered: “I had you for me.” And she knewshed done the only thing she could.
Staying there, under that thumb, wasnt living. It was fading.
Now? She had a chance. To live for herself, not her mothers sickness. It was hard. Brutally hard. But there was no other way. She had to take it.
