Im no longer your mother, Emma Simon said, his eyes glued to the floor, voice thin as cracked glass.
Well have to sell the flat, he continued, the words falling like ash. And the car too. Those men wont leave us alone. Its not just me they want to ruin; you and Millie are in their crosshairs.
Cant we go to the police? Natalies breath trembled.
The police? he lifted his head, a bitter smile flickering. I owe them, Emma. Every day the interest climbs higher than a mountain; I could hang myself and still be in the red. Youll have to stay with my mother while the storm passes.
And you? she whispered.
I have to get out of here. I wont ever settle those debts; the firms already been stripped from me. Ill head north. The oil rigs pay well now; maybe, just maybe, things will settle.
Natalie had known the danger was creeping in when roughlooking men with a criminal past started knocking on their door, dragging Simon out onto the street for conversations. He returned each time hollow, his temper flaring, lashing out at Millie for the slightest misstep. The child was barely four, not a trained pet to be scolded.
Simons business was a shadow. Yes, his company sold computers online, but where the laptops and monitors appeared from was a mystery. Most likely they were counterfeit, because whole batches were pulled from the market at regular intervals, forcing Simon to borrow money just to stay afloat. Hed managed to wiggle out a few times, but this time the knot tightened and wouldnt loosen.
Natalie had grown up in a village in the Cotswolds. Even without a polished city flat she could have lived with her parents, but she couldnt quit her job. She was deputy head at an elite private school that taught English literature, and the headmistressMrs. Catherinehad already announced her retirement in a year. Walking away now would be madness.
Living under her motherinlaws roof was no sanctuary either. From the moment they met, the relationship had been strained. At first Natalie was the unwanted daughterinlaw, you look like you came from a milewide field. When she graduated with honours and took a teaching post at the English preparatory school, Mrs. Catherine sneered, Youre a foreign fancy lady who cant even cook a proper stew. Yet Simon praised Natalies borscht, calling it the best hed ever tasted. The longday classes left little time for home cooking; the school ran until dusk.
Mrs. Catherine delighted in her granddaughter, but her affection for Natalie was thin:
Good wives dont run off to the North. she snapped.
He didnt run from me; he fled his creditors. Hes drowning in debt.
And where have you been looking? A good wife keeps the households purse tight. In your house, theres never a decent dinner on the table.
I cook whenever I can.
Then why is there never a proper meal? Whats that school you have, staying till midnight? Ill check it myself. Youre practically a stepdaughter now, not a proper wife
She paid an unexpected evening visit to the school, looking over every classroom, every poster in foreign script. Better you hadnt come, she muttered, her list of complaints growing. Cats roaming the corridors? Thats unsanitary, like a zoo. Respectable ladies wouldnt work in such chaos. She stared at Natalie as if trying to see right through her, a tall, lanky man in a tweed jacket watching from a distance.
That lanky man was David Sinclair, also an English teacher. He seemed genuinely fond of Natalie, yet kept his distance, aware of her family ties.
The school followed a British educational method that welcomed catsBritish Shorthairsinto classrooms, believing that proximity to animals softened childrens hearts. The felines were allowed to climb on desks, nap on books, and generally behave with the decorum expected of a respectable British cat.
Simon sent occasional emails, vague about his whereabouts. When the men with criminal records knocked again, they asked where Simon was hiding. He stopped writing altogether, and Natalies anxiety grew. What if the creditors have found him? she feared, but her motherinlaw remained oddly calm.
If theyd found him, theyd stop coming here. she said.
Then why has he gone silent?
You dont understand. Hes a good man; he wont stay alone forever
A year later, just before the school term ended, Simon finally wrote. Hed met another woman and was now living with her. He didnt call it an affair; after all, theyd never been legally married. He never mentioned Millie, as if the child never existed. Mrs. Catherine immediately offered an excuse.
He must know Millie isnt his. she declared.
How? She was born while he was with us.
With him, yes; not from him, you understand?
Stop this nonsense, Mother!
Im no longer your mother. I may be a grandmother to Millie, but from today Im Elizabeth Marloweor perhaps nothing at all, which might be better.
Natalie knew she had to move out of the former motherinlaws flat. Renting in London was exorbitant, and she still had to raise Millie. She could pull herself together, but why stay in a city where, aside from her daughter, she had no one? Her own parents, after hearing about her woes, invited her back to the village, promising a teaching postrural schools always needed staff.
Mrs. Catherine quickly put the schools future on hold.
You, dear, dont catch a fever now. I intend to keep the school open; the board is fine with it.
Where will Millie and I live?
Ill speak with the board. Perhaps theyll fund a modest flat or give a loan. In the meantime, move into my cottage. The academic years ending, May is here, and the cottage needs no heating. My husband only visits on weekends. In the summer, you can take a break and go to your parents.
David offered to drive their few belongingsclothes, a handful of dishesout to the cottage. On the way, he asked:
Where will you stay in winter?
Mrs. Catherine promised a rental.
Why bother? David chuckled I have a spare onebedroom flat. I stay with my mother most of the time; shes ill and cooks for me. Surviving on frozen pies and instant noodles forever isnt sustainable.
Ill see. In summer Ill head back to the village, maybe stay there permanently.
And the school? Youre being set up as head
They tried to marry me off before; schools are everywhere, you know.
At the cottage Millie thrived. The fresh air reddened her cheeks, and she laughed with both Mrs. Catherine and Davids husband, becoming almost a family.
Natalie thought less of her former life. It hurt, but perhaps it was for the best. Simon would have left anyway; he never wanted to stand at the registry.
David drove them back to the village with Millie. The farewell dinner was laid out as dusk fell. They unloaded the car, and David began to pull away, but Natalies motherinlaw stopped him.
Stay a while, well have fresh milk, sit down for supper
Natalie followed her, sighing:
Mother, did you really think David was a suitor for me?
Isnt that so?
No, theres nothing between us, never will be.
Youre wrong. I see the way he looks at you. Millie could be his child too
From a distance Natalie watched David and Millie chat and laugh. Maybe there was a hint of something after all.
A warmth settled in Natalies chest, a quiet calm like the evenings of her childhood.
