Im sitting at the kitchen table, the old wooden surface scarred from years of family meals, and I feel compelled to put down what has been happening with Valerie and Katie over the past few months. Its a mess of arguments, unpaid bills and broken promises, and I need to make sense of it for myself.
Dont stick your nose in my business, Katie snapped, her voice edged with the fatigue of a girl who feels shes been left to fend for herself. You live off your pension and the rent, yet you never really helped us out! She said this as we all sat in Valeries modest flat in Camden, a thin layer of teatime sandwiches spread before ushomemade ham, thick slices of cheddar and smoked salmon, fresh rolls from the corner bakery. A vase of oranges, grapes and mandarins sat on the sideboard, a small but neat gesture from Valerie to make the moment feel less like a battlefield.
The grandson was perched on the sofa in a tiny superhero onesie, the same one Valerie had bought just a week ago for his birthday. The television played cartoons, filling the room with the usual background noise.
Katie, stop treating this like a comedy, Valerie replied, a hint of irritation in her tone. Im the one who puts shoes on your sons feet, dresses him, drives him to his earlylearning classes, even buys his medication. Hes completely dependent on me. And you still want more?
Katie shrugged, eyes rolling. Its your grandson, isnt it? Who else would we ask? Were already stretched thinloans, mortgage, council tax, nursery fees. After all that, theres barely enough left for bread and pasta.
What does that have to do with me? Valerie shot back. Did I force you to take out the loans? Did I push you into having children? Did I make you sell the flat? You told me not to interfere, so I stayed out of it. Do I owe you something now?
Mom! Katies face hardened. Look at how we live! I cant even do my own nails because the polish is finished. My boots are falling apart; if I step in a puddle, my feet stay wet and I catch a cold. Dan only has one decent shirt left. Were not living, were just surviving. And now you think you can teach me a lesson? Its easy for youyour breakfast is always salmon and toast!
Valerie listened, her lips pressed together, the sting of the accusation evident. Maybe she had been overprotective, maybe shed loved a bit too fiercely. But love isnt measured in cash; its measured in the consequences that follow.
Did I give you enough in life? she asked, squinting. You had everything. You wanted a touchscreen phone when everyone else still had buttonsso you got it. You asked for a mink coatso we bought it. I gave you a roof over your head. Youre no longer a little girl; you have to start paddling on your own.
Katie huffed and turned away, the same way shed turned away every toy she wasnt allowed to have as a child because the house was full.
Valeries mind drifted back to when Katie, then a small girl, raced around the flat in a new tracksuit encrusted with sequins. Her bedroom had a brandnew computer, a box with a camera tucked away in the wardrobea Christmas present. Katies whims changed as fast as the pounds exchange rate. One week she wanted to be a photographer, the next a hairdresser, then an actress. Valerie kept opening her purse, signing Katie up for extra lessons, trying to keep pace with every new fancy.
Let the girl enjoy her childhood, Paul, Valeries late husband, used to say with a grin. He had been a career soldier, respected in the neighbourhood, and his salary had allowed the family to live comfortably. Valerie worked parttime, not for the money but because she liked being among people, feeling useful.
One day Katie declared, I want to try felting! after watching a YouTube video. Valerie took her to a craft shop, handed her a basket, and within half an hour it was overflowing with colourful wool. Most parents would have given her only a few skeins and a basic needle, but Valerie believed in giving Katie every chance to explore. She saw it as a sacred duty to nurture her daughters development.
Katie would latch onto each new hobby with enthusiasm, then drop it weeks later for something else. It annoyed Valerie, but she convinced herself that the girl was simply testing herself. Over time Katie grew accustomed to getting whatever she wanted with a flick of a wrist.
Then Paul died. Valerie was left alone, though her grief was softened by the solid financial footing Paul had left behind. The interest from his savings was enough to live comfortably, but she kept working until health issues forced her to slow down.
Katies conscience was clean at the time. She paid for her own studies in Manchester, bought a onebedroom flat in a new development, had it nicely finished. Valerie felt she had ticked all the boxes of a good mother. Ive given her everything she needs to start, she thought. Ill help while she studies, then shell manage on her own.
But the plan cracked.
Katie was barely into her second year when she announced she had a boyfriend, Dan, who owned an iPhone (not the newest model) and had barely any savings. Both families were welloff, but Dans smile was cocky, his approach to domestic life clueless.
Katie, finish your degree first, Valerie pleaded after hearing about Dan. If you want to live together, go ahead, but dont rush. Get a qualification, stand on your own feet, then think about family.
Dont interfere, Mom, Katie replied, frowning. This is my life.
Valerie kept her distance, but life didnt turn out as Katie had imagined. At first things were pleasant. They lived together in Katies flat; Valerie covered the council tax and gave pocket money for food and clothes. The young couple spent their evenings bingewatching series and strolling out at dawn.
Dan soon quit university, saying he saw no point. Im only doing this because my parents wanted me to, he told Katie. Otherwise its a waste of time.
Katie then dropped out as well, not for the same idealistic reasons but because she was pregnant. Mom, Im pregnant, she said over the phone one afternoon. Dan and I have decided. Ill keep the baby, maybe take a short break from studies, and well see what happens.
Valerie sighed, covering her face with her hand, then gave a muted, Do what you must, then. When Katie asked, Will you help us? Valerie answered, Ill look after the grandson. Youre adults now; you have more than I ever had at your age. Manage yourselves. Inside, a knot tightened.
Silence lingered.
Right I get it, Katie muttered, ending the call.
The next weeks were a whirlwind of tantrums, manipulations, and thinly veiled pleas. Katie complained about a broken fridge, a wornout winter coat, low iron levels from poor nutrition. Valerie only reacted to the last the health of the unborn child and that too reluctantly.
Grandson shouldnt suffer because his parents are foolish, she muttered while lugging grocery bags.
Then Katie dropped another bomb. Were selling the flat, getting a twobedroom. Think, Katie. The baby will still be with you, Valerie warned. No, Mum. Weve decided. We want a wedding, a honeymoon, everything proper.
Valerie clenched her teeth but didnt intervene. Money slipped through their fingers: a wedding banquet, a photographer, the latest iPhones, laptops, a vacation in Spain, a deposit on a mortgage. The young couple even took out more loans.
Mortgage payments ballooned. Credit cards multiplied. Soon Katie was complaining that she didnt have enough to get through the month. Valerie continued to feed the grandsonbuying formula, baby food, nappieswhile he lived with her for the past six months.
Dan found work as a camera operator and picked up courier gigs. Ill start working from home, Valerie said, Well manage somehow. Can you take Leo in for a while? Katie agreed, but only so far. The child had everything; the adults would have to settle for advice, which they were unlikely to heed.
One evening Katie stared out the window, then turned to her mother. If you dont help, Ill take Leo away, she threatened. And youll never see him again.
Valerie laughed, though anxiety knotted her stomach. Fine, go ahead. Lets see how quickly you get fired and what youll survive on. At least you have money for nursery fees, right?
Katie stared, breath shallow, unable to argue. In a few days she would have to come back begging for a handout as another bill loomed.
Everything you had was yours, Valerie said coldly. Im not to blame for the mess you made. And you cant drag me and Leo down with you. Grow up and sort it out yourselves.
Katie left her sandwiches untouched, grabbed her coat, and walked out. Valerie didnt try to stop her.
When the door shut, she slipped into the living room, turned off the TV so Leo wouldnt wake, and looked at the little boy curled around a plush owl. For his sake Id move mountains, she thought, but for the two of them let life be the teacher.
Writing this down reminds me that love and provision have limits. I can give a roof and a warm meal, but I cannot live their lives for them. The lesson Im learning, bitter as it is, is that sometimes the hardest thing a parent can do is to step back and let their children face the consequences of their choices. Its painful, but perhaps the only way theyll truly learn to stand on their own.
