Not yet grown! Youre holding him wrong!
A sharp, shrill cry cut through the air, sudden as a winter wind. Yet Claire didnt flinch. Over the past months she had grown accustomed to that voiceher former motherinlaw, always arriving at the most inconvenient second.
Claire turned slowly, clutching her baby to her chest. Eightmonthold Jamie cooed softly against her shoulder, swaddled in a warm onesie. HydePark was almost deserted on that weekday; only a handful of hurried walkers, shoulders hunched against the chill, passed by.
Good morning, Evelyn Harper, Claire said, her tone flat as a stone.
Evelyn brushed off the greeting as if swatting away an annoying fly. Her cheeks were flushed with indignation and cold. She stepped closer, lips pressed, eyes fixed on the infant.
What are you doing? Evelyns voice rang with outrage. Do you even realise what youre doing? Its freezing out there! And my grandson is dressed so lightly! Hell catch his death! Do you want the boy to fall ill?
Claire glanced at Jamieonesie, a snug hat, a scarf. All appropriate for the weather.
Its plus eight degrees, Evelyn. Hes dressed properly.
Properly? the motherinlaw advanced another foot. Do you even know how a child should be held? This will ruin his posture! Hell be a hunchback! And look at him, so skinny! Are you starving him?
Claires jaw tightened. Jamie was perfectly healthy; every paediatrician had praised his development. Yet Evelyns tirade persisted.
These endless walks of yours! Two hours each day, dragging the child through the wind! Are you mocking him? He needs warmth, calm, not this gale!
Claire shifted Jamie to her other arm. The baby squirmed, blinked, then slipped back into sleep.
Evelyn, can we not
Not? Evelyn interjected. Lets not! You know nothing about raising children! Ive raised three, and you? Firsttime mum, acting like youve mastered everything! So clever, arent you?
Inside Claire felt a knot tighten. The stream of accusations was painfully familiar. Every visit from Evelyn turned into an interrogation; every encounter a little hell.
And you, Evelyn stepped nearer, eyes glittering, are the cause of everything! You broke the family! My son was happy until you turned his life into a circus! You drove him away! You stole his childs father! All because of you!
Claire stood frozen. The air seemed to solidify, the words echoing like a slow drumbeat in her mind. Had she really destroyed a family?
We have to go, Claire whispered, turning away.
Youre fleeing from me? Evelyn shouted after her. Do my eyes deceive you? You have ruined my sons life! And his grandsons too!
Claire quickened her pace, her feet carrying her away from the park, from the voice, from the blame. Jamie fussed but did not wake. Evelyns shrieks faded behind her. Only when the distance grew enough for the shouts to die out did Claire exhale, hands trembling, heart thudding as if lodged in her throat.
Why did Evelyn dare speak as if Claire were the villain?
Memories surged like a tide. That night, the flat. The door Claire had opened an hour early. Her exhusband, his new partner, their bedroom, their bed.
Claire had not screamed then, nor wept. She simply began gathering his things. Serge tried to justify himself, mumbling about mistakes, about it meaning nothing. Claire pointed silently at the door. Three days later she filed for divorce.
Two weeks later she learned she was pregnant and told the stillpresent exhusband.
Evelyn rushed to the flat, knocked so insistently that Claire felt compelled to answer.
Cancel the divorce! Evelyn shrieked from the doorway. What are you doing? Youre pregnant! The child needs both parents! You must forgive my son! Youre not in the right place, my dear!
Claire leaned against the wall, weary. Evelyn pressed on:
Hes made a mistake. All men do sometimes, thats what they are. But youre a woman! You must forgive! Think of the family! Think of the child!
What child? Claire asked quietly. The one wholl be ashamed of his father?
Shame? Evelyn snapped. You should be ashamed! Youre tearing a family apart out of pride! Out of selfishness! Have you even imagined what its like for a child to grow up fatherless? Men err; we women must look past that for the sake of the child!
Claire closed her eyes.
Evelyn, please leave.
I wont! Evelyn stomped. I wont go until you see sense! Youre being obstinate! Youll ruin your childs future!
Claire did not rescind the divorce. The legal stamp soon tore the ties with Serge. Jamie was born soon after, small and warm, hers alone.
She never claimed child support, never listed Serge as father. He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the baby. Claire worked from home, earned well, her mother stepped in when she needed a break. She asked nothing from Serges familynot a penny. He never called, never asked if it was a boy or a girl, never cared.
Evelyn, however, hovered like a storm cloud. She turned up at the maternity ward uninvited, bouquet in hand.
What did you name him? she asked as Claire emerged with the infant cradled.
Jamie, Claire replied.
Evelyns face twisted.
Jamie? Why not Colin, after my father? I told you
You spoke, Evelyn, but this is my son and I named him as I wished.
Evelyns lips pressed together, but she said nothing.
Visits soon multiplied. Evelyn appeared five times a week, no warning, just at the door, demanding entry to see her grandchild. She dispensed endless advicehow to feed, swaddle, bathe, lull, hold, walk.
Claire endured, nodded, did things her own way, until one day she could take no more.
Enough, Evelyn! she shouted as the motherinlaw began yet another tirade about the formula. Stop telling me what to do! Hes my child, and I know how to care for him!
Evelyn turned ashen, then reddened like a tomato.
Youre shouting at me? At me?
Yes, I am! Claire met her stare. Because I cant stand this any longer! You come every day and poison me! You point, criticize, accuse! Im fed up!
Evelyn turned and stalked out, stomping loudly. She returned later, but only twice a week, each visit still feeling like torture.
Now there was no peace even on the street.
Claire slipped into her building, climbed to her flat. The house was quiet, warm. She placed Jamie in his crib, shed her coat, collapsed onto the sofa. Evelyns words still rang in her ears: You destroyed the family. But wasnt it Serge who shattered all their plans? Who betrayed? Claire had only wanted to keep her child, to raise him. What was so wrong with that?
Jamie sighed softly in the cradle. Claire rose, smoothed his blanket, and the baby smiled in his sleep.
Its all right, she whispered to herself. Everything is as it should be.
Two weeks passed, calm and quiet. Evelyn did not appear, did not call. Claire began to hope she had finally been left alone.
Then, on a Saturday morning, a sharp knock hammered at the door. Claire opened it to find Evelyn standing on the threshold.
Hello, Evelyn breezed past Claire into the flat.
Claire froze, unable to answer. Evelyn marched straight to the nursery where Jamie played on a soft mat, bent down, and cooed.
My dear grandson, my little bunny!
Claire followed, arms crossed.
Whats happening? she asked.
Evelyn turned, grin bright as sunrise.
Tomorrows the christening! Ive arranged everythingchurch, godparents, the whole lot!
Claire stared at her former motherinlaw.
What?
The christening, Evelyn repeated, as if stating a fact. Tomorrow, two oclock. I chose a lovely parish, found excellent godparents, sorted it all.
Claire stepped forward.
You cannot decide when my sons christening will be!
Evelyns smile hardened.
I can. Who else should decide? You, little piglet?
My son! Claire snapped, breath shaking. Im his mother!
You? Youre young, clueless! You know nothing! I am experienced! I know whats right! You must obey me, because alone you cant raise a child! Youre not grown enough.
Something inside Claire ignited, bright and fierce. All the months of slights, insults, humiliation burst forward like a flame.
You have no right to be here! Not a single one!
Evelyn stepped back, bewildered.
How can that be? He lives here!
Not on paper! Claire declared, moving toward her. My sons birth certificate has a blank where the fathers name should be. Legally he has no father, so you have no grandson! Until that changes, you are not welcome!
Evelyns face went pallid, her lips trembled with fury.
You youre throwing me out?
Yes, Claire said firmly. Leave.
Evelyn snatched her bag and fled. Jamie wailed in the mat. Claire lifted him, pressed him close.
Its all right, love, she whispered. Its all right.
A week of silence slipped by.
Then the doorbell rang again.
Claire opened it to find two figures: Evelyn and her exhusband, Serge, looking tired and irritated. Evelyn clutched his elbow as if fearing he would bolt.
Good day, Claire, Serge muttered, avoiding eye contact.
Evelyn shoved Serge forward into the flat. Claire could not stop them. Evelyn dragged Serge into the nursery.
Look! Evelyn exclaimed, pointing at Jamie. Hes your son! You must officially become his father! You are obliged!
Serge glanced at the child, then turned away.
Claire leaned against the doorframe, watching Serges stubborn expression. She knew what had to be done.
Ill claim child support, she said evenly.
Serge flinched, turning sharply toward her.
What?
Child support, Claire repeated. You earn well, Serge. The court will award me a fair sum.
Serges face twisted.
I dont want this child, he spat. Mother, leave me alone! Im done! I wont be responsible for anyone!
He stormed out of the flat. Evelyn chased after him, shouting, Serge! Wait! Because of you I cant see my grandchild! Do you understand?
I dont give a damn! Serges voice echoed from the stairwell. I dont care about you or this baby!
Claire closed the door, turned to Jamie, who reached for her with tiny hands. She lifted him, held him close, a smile tugging at her lips. The plan had worked. Serge didnt want his son, and Evelyn finally vanished from their lives. Jamie gurgled happily against her shoulder, warm and safe in her arms. Claire walked to the window, watching the sky soften into dusk, the streetlights flickering on one by one. For the first time in years, the silence felt peaceful, not heavy with judgment or dread. She hummed a lullaby, swaying gently, and felt the tiny weight of her son settle into her, trusting, whole. There would be no christening tomorrow, no unwanted hands reaching in. Just thisquiet, love, and the steady beat of a life built on her own terms.
