I’m no longer your mother, she said, voice flat.
Listen, well have to sell the flat, Simon stared at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes. And the car, too. Those people wont leave us alone. It wont just be me who suffers; you and Eleanor will pay the price as well.
What about going to the police? Eleanor asked, clutching the edge of her coat.
The police? I owe them, honestly, Simon finally lifted his gaze, his hands trembling. Every day the interest piles up so fast I could choke. Youll have to live with our daughter at my mothers house for a while.
And you?
Ive got to get out of here. I wont be able to repay any of the debts; the firm has already been taken over. Im heading norththeres decent work for itinerant labourers. Maybe things will settle down there.
Eleanor had sensed the danger growing when grimlooking men with obvious criminal records started knocking on their door, demanding Simon step out onto the pavement for a chat. After each encounter he returned holloweyed, sometimes angry, berating Eleanor over the smallest offences. Their fouryearold daughter, Poppy, could not possibly understand why her mother was being shouted at as if she were a misbehaving pet.
Simons business was murky at best. He ran an online shop selling computer hardware, yet Eleanor never saw where the laptops and monitors came from. Most likely they were counterfeit, because whole batches were repeatedly pulled from sale. Each time that happened Simon had to borrow more money just to stay afloat, and although hed managed to wriggle out of trouble before, this time he hadnt.
Eleanor had grown up in a small village in the West Country and could have moved back in with her parents if she wanted a simple life. She didnt want to quit her job, thoughshe was deputy headmistress at St. Michaels, an elite private school that taught English as a second language, and a headship seemed within reach now that Mrs. Margaret Hargreaves, the current head, had announced her retirement in a year. Walking away would have been foolish.
Living under the roof of her motherinlaw was another nightmare. From the start their relationship had been strained. At first Eleanor was an unwanted daughterinlaw, dismissed as a country lass who could be seen from a mile away. After she earned top marks at university and began teaching at the specialist language school, she was labeled a foreign fussy cook who shouldnt be expected to make proper stew. Yet Simon praised Eleanors borscht, calling it the best hed ever tasted. Time at the school often ran late, so she rarely had a chance to cook at home.
Mrs. Hargreaves, who adored her granddaughter, was less than pleased with Eleanor:
Good wives never run off to the North.
Its not me hes fleeing, its his creditors. Hes deep in debt.
And where have you been looking? A good wife keeps the familys finances in order. Back in our day we called that running the household. Youve never managed a decent dinner for your own child.
When I have time, I do cook.
And why dont you have any? What sort of school keeps you until midnight? Ill check on that, you know. Im sure youre just trying to make a life for yourself without a proper husband.
One evening Eleanor was summoned to the school for an inspection. She arrived to find the corridors plastered with foreignlanguage signagefine, she thought, but the roaming cats were another matter. Cats everywhere? This is a school, not a zoo, the headmistress scolded. Decent women wont work in such chaos. She also noted how a lanky man seemed to stare at Eleanor, as if trying to read her thoughts.
That lanky man was David Sinclair, a fellow English teacher. He appeared to like Eleanor, but he never crossed the line, aware of her family commitments.
The cats, in fact, were part of a British educational programme that believed close contact with animals made children kinder. The school kept a few Britishshorthair cats that were allowed to wander onto desks during lessons, though they behaved far better than the headmistress feared.
Simon occasionally sent emails, vague about his whereabouts, and the tone suggested he was in danger. A few times men with obvious criminal backgrounds turned up at the house, asking after him. Then the messages stopped altogether. Eleanor feared the creditors had found him, but her motherinlaw remained oddly optimistic:
If theyd found him, theyd have stopped bothering us.
Then why did he go silent?
Youll see. Hes a good lad; he wont stay alone forever.
A year later, just before the school term ended, Simon wrote that he had met another woman and was now living with her. He insisted it wasnt an affair because they were never legally married. He said nothing about Poppy, as if the child never existed. Mrs. Hargreaves seized the moment to justify herself:
Clearly he knows Poppy isnt his.
What? She was born while they were together!
She was with him, not from him. Thats possible.
Dont speak like that, mother!
Im no longer your mother. I may remain Poppys grandmother, but from today Ill be known as Elizabeth Marloweor perhaps nobody at all, which might be better.
Eleanor now had to leave the flat shed been renting from her motherinlaw. Paying rent in London while raising Poppy seemed impossible. She could try to scrimp, but with no family left in the city, staying felt pointless. Her own parents, hearing of her troubles, invited her back to the village, promising a teaching position where teachers were always in demand.
Mrs. Hargreaves postponed her resignation, saying:
Dont lose hope, love. I intend to keep the school running, and the board isnt against that.
Where will we live now?
Ill speak to the board. They might help with a housing allowance or a loan. In the meantime, you and Poppy can stay at my cottage. The heatings free, and we only need to come up on weekends. When summer comes, you can go to your parents.
David Sinclair offered to drive Eleanors belongings to the cottage. They had only a few bags of clothes and some dishes left. On the way, David asked:
Where will you stay in winter?
The headmistress promised to find somewhere to rent.
Why bother? I have a spare room in my mothers house. Shes ill and needs help, and I cant survive on instant noodles forever.
Ill see what happens. Im thinking of moving back to the village for good.
The school?
Theyll find someone else to be head. Ive been set up for marriage before; schools are everywhere.
At the cottage Poppy thrived. The fresh air turned her cheeks rosy, and Eleanor bonded quickly with Mrs. Hargreaves and her husband, feeling as if they were one big family.
Memories of the former life faded. It was painful, yes, but perhaps a blessing. Simon would have left anyway; he never wanted to register at the registry office.
David drove them to the village, where Mrs. Hargreaves had prepared a farewell dinner. They arrived in the early evening, unloaded the car, and David began to leave, but Eleanors motherinlaw stopped him:
Stay a while, dear. Ill bring fresh milk; well have supper together.
Eleanor followed, saying:
Did you ever think of David as a husband for me?
Didnt you?
No, we have no relationship, and none is planned.
But youre not blind to how he looks at you, and Poppy could be happy with him
From a distance Eleanor watched David and Poppy laughing together. Maybe a new chapter could begin after all.
She felt a warmth settle over her, a calm she hadnt known since childhood. In the end, she realized that no matter how tangled the past, the future holds space for hope, kindness, and the courage to rebuild ones life from whatever remains. The true lesson was simple: when the world strips away what you think defines you, the strength to create a new identity lies within, and lovewhether from family, friends, or unexpected alliescan guide you back to a place of peace.
