Don’t stick your nose in, that’s my life!
You sleep on a pile of cash while I’m scrambling for pennies! You’re supposed to be a grandma a mother! Give me a proper hand for once! Katie snapped, hurt.
The absurdity was that, at that very moment, Katie was sitting at her mothers kitchen table. Valerie Anderson had thrown together a quick but decent spread: sandwiches with sliced ham, generous slabs of cheese and smoked salmon, fresh rolls from the corner bakery, and a bowl of fruitgrapes, pomegranates, mandarins. No exotic bird and pineapple, but it was a respectable welcome.
Her grandson was glued to cartoons in the living room, dressed in the new tracksuit his grandma had bought him a few days earlier.
Katie, stop ruining the comedy, Valerie replied, irritated. Im the one who shoed his boots, dresses him, drives him to his earlylearning classes, buys his medicine. He lives on me. And you still want more?
Its your grandson, after all. Who else? Dave and I cant even figure out where the next pound will come from. Mortgages, council tax, nursery fees after all that, whats left barely covers bread and pasta.
So whats my part in this? Did I take out the loans for you? Or force you to have kids? Did I make you sell the flat? You told me not to meddle, so I stayed out of it. Now you expect me to owe you something?
Mum! Katie frowned. You see how we live! I cant even do my own manicure because Ive run out of polish! My boots are falling apart; a single puddle and my feet are soggy, then I get sick. Dave has only one decent shirt left. Were surviving, not living. And now you decide to raise me! Easy for you, with your daily salmon breakfast!
Valerie listened, her lips pressed together. She knew, perhaps, shed been overprotective, loving a bit too much. Fixing it wouldnt be about throwing money at the problem but about facing the consequences.
Katie, havent I given you enough in life? the woman said, squinting. You had everything. You wanted a touchscreen phone when everyone else still had buttonsyou got it. You asked for a mink coatgot that too. I gave you a roof. Youre not a little girl any more; you have to fend for yourself.
Katie pouted and turned away, just as she had when a toy was denied because there was no room left in the house.
Valerie remembered tiny Katie racing around in a new sequined tracksuit, a brandnew computer in her room, a box of a camera tucked away in a wardrobea Christmas present. Katies wishes changed faster than the pounds exchange rate. One week she wanted to be a photographer, the next a hairdresser, then an actress. Valerie could barely keep up, pulling out her wallet and signing her up for extra classes.
Let the girl enjoy herself. Childhood only comes once, her husband Paul would say with a grin.
Paul was a respected military man, one of the towns notable figures. His salary meant the family never went without. Valerie also worked, more for the joy of it than the money. She could have stayed at home, but she liked being out there, useful to the community.
I want to try needle felting! Katie declared after watching a YouTube video.
So Valerie took her to a craft shop and handed her a basket. In half an hour it was overflowing.
Other parents might have given just a couple of skeins and a basic needle. But Valerie believed wholeheartedly that nurturing her daughters talents was sacred. They could afford it, so why not?
Katie grabbed every new hobby with gusto, then dropped it weeks later for something else. It baffled Valerie, but she trusted that her daughter was merely testing the waters. Meanwhile Katie grew accustomed to getting anything at the snap of a finger.
Then Paul passed away, leaving Valerie alone. She mourned, but at least the ground beneath her feet felt solid. Hed left her a tidy estate. Interest from the savings could have kept them comfortable, yet Valerie kept working until health problems forced her to stop.
Katies conscience was clear. She paid for her daughters studies in London, bought a onebed flat in a new development, and oversaw a solid renovation. Valerie thought shed checked all the boxes of a “good mum”. Ive given her everything she needs to start. Ill help while she studies, then shell manage on her own, she decided firmly.
But things didnt go as planned.
Katie had just started her second year when she announced she had a boyfriend. Dave also owned an iPhone, albeit an older model, and was penniless. Their parents were equally welloff. He wore a cheeky grin and seemed completely out of touch with domestic life.
Katie, finish your studies first, Valerie said after hearing about Dave. If you want to live together, go ahead, but dont rush. Get a qualification, stand on your own feet, then think about starting a family.
Mum, mind your own business, Katie retorted, frowning. This is my life.
And Valerie really did stay out of it. Yet Katies reality turned out very different from what she imagined.
At first everything was rosy. They lived in Katies flat. Valerie paid the council tax and gave pocket money for food and clothes. The young couple just enjoyed life, bingewatched series and stayed out until dawn.
Dave soon dropped out of university, claiming he saw no point.
I enrolled because my parents wanted me to, he said. Its just a fad, a waste of time. Im not going down that road.
Then Katie quit her studies too, not for the same idealistic reasons.
Mum, Im pregnant, she blurted over the phone one day. Dave and I have decided. Ill have the baby. Ill probably take a break from school, see how things go.
Katie Valerie sighed, covering her face with her hand, then held back. Fine, if youre set on it.
Will you help us? Katie asked, hopeful.
Ill help the baby, of course. But youre adults now. You have more than I did at your age. Sort it out yourselves, Valerie replied, though her stomach tightened.
A heavy pause.
Right thats that.
Katie hung up.
There were tantrums, manipulations, careful probing. Katie complained about a broken fridge, a wornout coat, low iron levels from poor nutrition. Valerie only reacted to the last, and even then only because it mattered for the pregnancy and breastfeeding.
The grandson shouldnt suffer because his parents are daft, she muttered while hauling grocery bags.
Then Katie dropped another bomb.
Were selling the flat. Well get a twobed house.
Katie think about it. The baby will still be with you.
No, Mum. Weve decided. We want a wedding, a honeymoon, the whole romantic thing.
Valerie clenched her teeth but didnt intervene.
Money slipped through their fingers: a wedding with a banquet and photo shoot, the latest iPhones, laptops, a Turkish holiday, a deposit on a mortgage. The young couple even took out loans.
Mortgage payments became monstrous. The debt pile grew. Soon Katie complained shed run out of cash before months end. Valerie still funded the grandsonbuying formula, purées, nappies. For six months he lived with her.
Dave got a job as a camera operator and does courier gigs on the side. Ill start remote work too; well manage. Can you look after Leo for a while? Katie asked.
Valerie agreed, but only to a degree. The child had everything he needed. For the adults she could offer only wellmeaning advice, which they were unlikely to follow.
Katie stared out the window, then turned to her mother.
If you dont help, Ill take Leo, she threatened. And youll never see him again.
Valerie only laughed, though anxiety gnawed inside.
Fine, go ahead. Lets see how fast you get sacked and what youll live on. At least youll have money for nursery fees, right?
Katie clenched her jaw, breathing hard, unable to argue. In a few days shed have to knock on her mothers door again, another bill looming.
You had everything. Im not to blame for you blowing it, Valerie continued. And you think you can drag Leo and me down with you? No. Youre adults; fumble on your own.
Katie didnt finish her sandwich. She stood, grabbed her coat, and walked out. Valerie, of course, didnt try to stop her.
When the door shut, Valerie slipped into the lounge. Leo was asleep on the sofa, clutching a plush owl pillow. She turned off the TV so he wouldnt wake. Id move mountains for him, she thought, but for the two of them let life be the teacher.
