Monday, 23October
I never signed up to be anyones housemaid, but this morning the phone rang with a familiar voice that set my heart pounding. Mum, weve got a problem. The landlady wants us out of the flat, and she needs it done yesterday. Sort out my room, clear as much space as you can. Well be there this evening, the whole family, my son Alex shouted through the receiver.
My mind went blank. Id heard that in winter its hard to evict someone from a rented place, especially without a formal tenancy agreement. Surely theyd be given some time to find a new home. But Alex cut me short. They wont give us any time Natalie had a row with the landlady yesterday, and shes furious.
The pieces fell into place. Natalie needed to learn to keep her tongue in check and show a modicum of respect to other people. I tried to warn Alex not to start a quarrel, but his reply was a curt, Mum, dont even start! He sounded angry, and then the line went dead. I heard only a few short beeps before I sat down, bewildered, on the kitchen floor.
Yesterday had been a marathon at work: two new clerks arrived, and my manager insisted I show them the ropes, while simultaneously demanding two reports for senior management and a dozen other tasks. By the time I trudged home, I felt Id crawled in on all fours.
I had weekend plans that now seemed absurd. Saturday I wanted to sleep in, then stroll through HydePark in the afternoon. Sunday Id meet my friend Poppy for a bit of shopping. How could I possibly accommodate four peoplemyself, Alex, Natalie, and my sevenyearold grandson Jackin this tiny twobedroom flat? My grand weekend vision crumbled into dust. I now had to clear Alexs former bedroom, shuffle a few belongings, hit the supermarket, and still have time to cook dinner.
I didnt resent Alex or Jack. My relationship with Natalie was, to put it mildly, strained. I always tried to treat her with courtesy for Alexs sake, hoping to avoid the flareups that periodically erupted in our family.
Despite the ruined plans and sour mood, I set to work tidying the room. Later I went shopping, then cooked a simple supper. By evening everything was ready. When Alex arrived with his family the flat filled with chatter and laughter, and I decided to retreat to my own room early. Alex and Natalie were still at the table, Jack glued to his cartoon on the tablet.
Good night then, Ill clear my own dishes, alright, Nat? I said as I slipped out of the kitchen.
Yeah, Natalie mumbled without looking up from her phone.
Halfasleep I heard their snorts and footsteps, but I pretended not to notice. I truly believed they were only staying briefly, just a night or two, until they could find their own place. Natalie, however, seemed determined to make the whole family stay longer, repeatedly brushing off my pleas for mutual respect.
The next morning the alarm dragged me to the kitchen, where a chaotic scene greeted me: two halfempty tea mugs, a pile of candy wrappers, and apple cores scattered across the table. The sink was a mountain of unwashed dishes.
Mom, whats for breakfast? Alex shouted, still in his car, his voice muffled by traffic.
Just toast and tea. Im only having coffee, I replied, trying to clear the remnants of last nights dinner.
Mom, Im stuck in a jam. A couple of slices wont keep me fed.
Then the blame falls on your wife. She should stop lingering in the bathroom for forty minutes and make you something. I didnt sign up to be your servant, but Im late for work and still have to wash this mess. You didnt even bother to tidy up yesterday.
No sooner had I finished speaking than Natalie appeared, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
So I knew it. Margaret, its half past seven and youre already complaining.
Im not complaining, Natalie, Im talking to Alex. Could you at least make him breakfast? I cant be the one constantly washing dishes and cooking.
Yeah, she said, still glued to her phone.
The next five days unfolded in a tense haze. I held my tongue as best I could, hoping Alex would sort out the housing issue within a week so I could finally have some peace.
Friday night brought no sign of them moving out. I guessed Alex simply didnt want to drag me into his mess. Saturday morning they slept like the dead. By lunchtime Alex finally emerged from his room, and I realized there were no plans to relocate at all.
On Sunday I asked him directly:
Alex, have you found a new flat?
Been looking. Everythings either too pricey or too far. Well probably stay with you another week.
Fine, stay then I said, resigned. I couldnt throw them out onto the street, so I braced for another week of endurance.
But nothing changed. The family settled in deeper, and the search for a new rental never materialised. Natalie made no effort with household chores; she left dirty plates in the sink and collapsed on the sofa. I spent the entire weekend laundering, ironing, cooking, and cleaning.
Natalie, could you mop the floor while Im at the shop?
Margaret, youre the lady of the house, arent you? Ill do something else later maybe tomorrow.
Remember, you live here too, I pointed out.
What are you nagging me about? My head hurts! she snapped.
Its absurd! I snapped back, and she retorted, Exactly, you caused it! I let the argument die; I went to the shop, finished the wet cleaning, then sat down with a cup of tea to rest.
A sudden thump woke me Jack was playing ball inside the flat.
Jack, you need to play outside, not in the flat. Its evening, and the neighbours can hear, I warned.
But Grandma, I want to play now. Mum and Dad wont take me out.
Stop it, I ordered.
Alex rose from the hallway.
Alex, tell Jack to stop.
Before he could answer, Natalie burst in.
Youve been on my case all morning, now youre picking on the child! What do you want, to drive us out? she shrieked.
If you cant follow my rules, perhaps you should find somewhere else to live, I replied.
A heavy silence fell.
Fine! Youre kicking us out! And Im pregnant, you know! I cant be stressed! Natalie wailed, storming into her room.
Alex, shes really pregnant, and youre arguing
First, I didnt know. Second, Im not asking for miracles. I just want my own home.
That evening Natalie packed her bags, announcing they would move to a nearby town and stay with her parents while Alex hunted for a new flat.
I felt a strange mix of relief and sorrow. I had tried to reason with her, but she was determined and unyielding, theatrically wiping her nose as she gathered her things.
Three days later Alex finally secured a flat and the family moved out. I gave the flat a thorough deep clean, took a weeks holiday, and life settled back into a familiar rhythm, though a bitter aftertaste lingered.
Our communication became so thin that I learned about the birth of my granddaughter only from mutual acquaintances. Its awkward to have such a rift with close family, but theres little I can do about it.
I now live for myself. Twice a year I retreat to a seaside resort, send money to the grandchildren on their birthdays, and Alex calls to wish me a happy birthdayalways over the phone. No spa or personal space can replace the warmth of a grandchilds hug, but happiness must first be found within. Ive made my choice, and whenever Im ready I can reach out to my grandchildren again. Whether Natalie allows it or not is entirely her decision, and the consequences rest on her conscience alone.
