Hey love, let me tell you whats been going on with Margaret and her girls its a proper drama.
Mum, could you look after Max for me today? Katie begged, her voice ragged. Ive got to dash to work, there are some urgent papers I need to pick up.
Margaret flipped through her diary and said, Katie, Ive got a meeting with the editor at seven tonight, I cant.
Come on, Mum, you always have something, you never say yes! Its your grandson, isnt it? Is work really more important?
Margaret clenched her jaw. Again that guilttrip.
Katie, I told you it was reckless to have a baby with someone you barely know. You ignored me. This is your choice, your responsibility.
Right, so you dont care about me or the baby. Thanks for the support, Katie snapped and hung up.
Margaret had just turned fiftytwo and finally felt she could breathe. After a nasty divorce that turned her world upside down, she spent fifteen years pulling double shifts, raising two daughters on her own and giving up everything for them. Then, five years ago, Michael came along a steady, reliable bloke who accepted her whole baggage without demanding the impossible.
The girls grew up, got qualifications. Margaret and Michael bought Katie a onebed flat, and Lucy a studio in a new development. Margaret landed a decent senior role at a London publishing house, signed up for Italian classes and started saving for a trip to Italy her lifelong dream.
But Katie married the first guy she met at twentythree, had a baby six months later. Margaret warned her it was too fast, but Katie didnt listen. Now her husband turned out to be flaky, showing up to work only now and then, money coming in irregularly. Katie is torn between the newborn and odd jobs, just trying to make ends meet, and Margarets phone has been buzzing nonstop with her calls.
One evening Margaret leaned her forehead against the cool kitchen window, fed up with the endless selfsacrifice. Katie started dropping hints about moving back in with her parents it would be easier for everyone, especially with the baby. Margaret refused, saying she had her own life, job, plans. Katie broke down, crying into the phone about the youth shed lost.
And then, a week later, Lucy just twenty, fresh out of university announced she was pregnant. The dad is a boy shed only been seeing for three months, a courier living in a shared house with no prospects. She burst into the living room, all bright-eyed, and said, Mum, guess what? Victor and I are going to be parents! Were having a baby! She plopped down on the couch, grinning.
Margaret felt that familiar irritation rise. Lucy, have you two thought about how youll raise a child? Where will you live? A studio with a baby? How will you afford everything?
Lucy fidgeted with her cardigan. Well, Victor has a spare room well figure something out. Mum, youll help us, right? Well need you.
Margaret set her mug down a little harder than she meant to. No, Lucy. You have the right to have a baby, Im not opposed to that. But Im not going to fund a young family. The flats yours, Ive given you everything I could. Youll have to manage on your own.
Lucy leapt up, tears welling. How can you say that? Youre heartless! Im your daughter! The baby will be your grandchild!
Exactly why Im being honest, Margaret replied. You both are adults. Youve finished university, Victor works. If youve decided to have a child, you must take responsibility yourselves. Ive done my part. I have my own life and my own plans.
Your plans? What could be more important than family? What plans do you have when your own daughters are in trouble? Lucy shrieked, grabbing her bag. Katies right. Youre selfish!
Both girls stormed out, leaving Margaret standing in the hallway, eyes closed, the house echoing with accusations of selfishness and coldness. In the family group chat they both lambasted her, saying shed abandoned them, while Katie posted long messages about how hard it was and how a mother should help, and Lucy added that she never expected her mum to be so indifferent.
Michael tried to be supportive, giving hugs at night and calming things as best he could, but the tension kept building. Katie started dropping in unannounced with the baby, pushing the stroller through the front door and saying, Mum, Im here for a couple of hours, look after Max. Margaret tried to protest, but Katie was already racing down the stairs. Michael frowned but stayed silent. Lucy called, teary, demanding moral support, complaining Victor didnt understand, there was no money, she didnt know what to do.
Margaret felt cornered, as if she were an endless well they could keep tapping.
Saturday night was supposed to be quiet Margaret and Michael had planned a cosy film and to go over the details of their Italy trip. Then there was a knock at the door, urgent and insistent. Michael opened it to find Katie with suitcases and the baby, and behind her, Lucy with red eyes from crying.
Mom, were moving in temporarily, Katie blurted, dumping a suitcase in the hallway. Serge will bring the rest of the stuff later. Well rent out my flat to get some cash, so I can spend more time with Max and work.
What?! Margaret froze in the doorway. Katie, what are you talking about? We never discussed this.
Do I need to? Youre my mum, youre supposed to help. Who else will? Katie said, clutching the stroller tighter.
Lucy slipped in behind her. Mum, we need money for a cot. Weve got nothing. Victor earns hardly anything, I cant stay on maternity leave, I need to work.
All the fatigue, irritation and hurt of the past months burst out of Margaret. No, she said sharply, stepping forward. Katie, turn around and go back home. Lucy, there will be no money. Thats it.
Both girls stared at her, stunned.
Are you serious, Mum? Katie asked, rocking Max, tears in her eyes. You cant be serious.
Absolutely, Margaret crossed her arms. I raised you, gave you education, bought you flats. Now fly out of the nest and make your own lives. Dont hang me with your children.
How can you say that? Lucy shrieked. Were your daughters! Your blood!
I can because youre adults. You chose your partners, you chose to have kids. I warned you, gave advice. You ignored it. Its your responsibility, not mine.
Katie switched the baby to her other arm, looking at Margaret with a mix of anger and disbelief. Youre kicking us out? With a baby?
No, you have a house, Margaret replied, not breaking eye contact. And you have a husband, Katie. Sort your own problems.
You heartless selfish witch! Lucy yelled, stamping her foot. You dont mean anything to us! All you think about is Italy!
Yes, Italy is my dream, Margaret said calmly. My plans, my life. I spent twenty years living for you. What more do you want? To be a nanny until the grave?
The sisters exchanged a look. Katie grabbed her suitcase, turned, and headed for the door. Lucy followed. Margaret heard them descending the stairs, their voices a muffled mix of insults and hurt.
For a week there was radio silence. Michael told her shed done the right thing, but inside Margaret felt a knot of anxiety. Had she been too harsh?
Later she learned Katie had indeed sold her flat and moved in with her husbands parents, cramped into a tiny twobedroom where she was piled with chores and criticized for everything. Her motherinlaw raised Max the way she thought best, while the fatherinlaw grumbled about how lazy young people were.
Lucys situation came to light through a neighbour who saw her crying on a bench outside their block. Victor had fled, scared of responsibility, and vanished with just a suitcase. Lucy was left pregnant, penniless, and alone.
Margaret stood in the kitchen, torn between compassion and the firm decision to stay out of their mess. Shed given them a solid start education, roofs over their heads, love. How they used it was no longer her problem.
The girls kept calling. Katie complained about the inlaws, sobbing that she couldnt take it any longer. Lucy cried about being completely alone, not coping. Margaret listened, sympathised, but offered only advice, never cash or a roof.
But they wanted more than advice they wanted Margaret to solve everything. Every time she said no, they pressed harder.
She and Michael finally booked three weeks in Italy a longawaited holiday that had been postponed countless times. Before they left, Margaret phoned the girls.
Are you having a stroke, Katie? she asked lightly. What about us?
Theyre grownups, theyll manage, Margaret replied, eyeing the suitcase by the door. When you learn to solve your own problems and stop treating me as a free nanny and cash source, Ill be happy to chat as equals. Grow up, please.
Youre abandoning us? Katie whispered. What are we supposed to do
Im not abandoning you. You have the right to make mistakes. I have the right not to foot the bill for them, Margaret said, grabbing her coat. Ill always be your mum, but Im not obligated to sacrifice myself for adult childrens reckless choices.
Michael waited by the car. Margaret got in, took a deep breath, and felt a weight lift. Shed done everything she could: education, a roof, love, advice. It was time to think about herself.
She started dreaming of strolling through Romes cobblestones, admiring the art in Florence, drifting along Venices canals the freedom shed earned. It felt wonderful.
