Dear Diary,
I can still hear my mothers voice echoing through the kitchen, the way she used to hurl at me, Youll never have a mother again! and Forget any notion of me being your mum. After youre married, Im not to be mentioned, not a whisper of the past. And I wont be handing over a penny for your wedding, either. If I didnt pick your bride, I wont foot the bill for this whole charade. It felt like a cold wind blowing through the house, and yet, when little Samuel curled up in my arms, saying, Mum, youre the best in the world. Ill do everything to keep your smile, my heart swelled. His innocent words turned my soul inside out. I was proud to have birthed such a darling, a little angel with golden curls, blue eyes and a face that seemed born of aristocracy. Watching him grow gave me a reason to start evaluating every possible future daughterinlaw with a meticulous eye: she must come from a respectable line, be wellkept, slender, educated, and possess flawless manners. A solid career in a reputable firm and a circle of influence were nonnegotiable.
The flat is already mine, I would say to any prospective match. Now I need a proper lady to keep it tidy, ready to welcome guests at any hourthree in the morning if need bebecause thats what a wife and housekeeper must be prepared for. Time passed, and my standards only hardened. No woman over twentyfive, lest she bear a frail child. And the child must be Samuels, unquestionably. The aunts would sigh, Margaret, youre being unreasonable. Theres no one who meets all your demands. If you want Sam to marry and have children, quit meddling, or hell remain a bachelor forever.
Samuel excelled at school and university, landed a wellpaid position in a London consultancy, yet his love life was a mess. Whenever he introduced a girl to me, I could always find a thousand reasons to turn her away. At each meeting Id tell him, Sam, could you slice some fruit in the kitchen while we chat? The first girl my mother met was Poppy Clarke, a girl from a modest backgroundher mother a clerk, her father a boiler operator, two younger brothers. Poppy worked as a pharmacy assistant, which set my mind racing: She has constant access to medicines. Could she poison my son? Or me? No, shes unsuitable. Her family are labourers; we need no such lot.
Poppy, you understand you cant marry Sam, dont you? I said sharply when we were alone. Youre too different. Hes grown up in a world you could never imagine. Find someone more ordinary. She stood, left without a word, and never said goodbye to Sam. When he asked why, she replied coldly, Ask your mother, who raised you in those special circumstances. She says youre too good for me; Ill look for someone simpler.
Mother, why did you hurt Poppy? I liked her, truly liked her. What did you tell her? Samuel pleaded. My reply was slow and deliberate, Son, I know better what will make you happy. It isnt any Poppy. Where did you find such a? It seems no respectable family fit our standards.
Samuel realised arguing with me was futile and walked away. He would occasionally mention a new girlfriend, but he never brought her to my house. I offered my help in setting up a family, but he politely declined, Ill choose my own wife. I muttered, I already know who youll picksome cleaning lady with nothing on her mind but mops and cloths. He laughed, At least the floors will shine. I snapped, Dont talk to your mother like that! He would retreat to his room, and eventually moved into the flat I owned, which we had been renting out together.
My estranged father, David, had been out of Samuels life since the divorce when Samuel was six. Recently he agreed to meet. He confessed, I left Margaret because she never gave me space. She controlled everythingwhere I went, what I did, what I said. She blamed my lack of education. She treated me like a beast of burden, then dumped me. She refused alimony and stripped me of parental rights. Samuel asked, Youre happy with that, arent you? David replied, Why ask? I bought you a flat, handed you the keys. Did she tell you?
I didnt believe you, Samuel said. David repeated, I saved ten years to give you a place of your own. If you stay with her, youll have no life of your own. She counts no one as a person. When Samuel asked why his father had never spoken to him, David said, I didnt want you to suffer. Margaret threatened to send you away, and I watched from a distance. Those words shifted Samuels view of his mother. He often said he wanted a partner who reminded him of her, and Margaret merely smiled, convinced hed never find someone like hershe was one in a million, if not a billion.
After Poppy, several other girls came and went, none of which satisfied me. Samuel finally gave me an ultimatum: Either stop interfering in my life, or Ill cut off contact with you. I retorted, Ungrateful child! I gave you a home, an education. How dare you speak to me like that? He pleaded, Mum, enough. I know who really bought that flat. I talked to father, he told me everything. I exploded, You trust that loser? My own son trusting my exhusband? His words left my face flushing with shame.
The next morning she didnt appear for breakfast. I knocked, hearing his angry shout: Leave me alone and go back to your worthless dad! Samuel opened the door, found me on the bed, hair disheveled, dress rumpled, staring at the ceilinga stark contrast to my usual neat, perfumed self. You know, son, Ive decided, I said slowly, marry whoever you likebe it a bloke from Papua with a penguinrhinoceros mix. Just forget you ever had a mother. After youre married, dont bother me, and I wont fund your wedding. If I didnt pick your bride, I wont pay a cent for the nonsense.
I understand, Mum, Samuel replied with a mock bow, closed the door quietly, and moved into his own flat.
Six months later he called me to a restaurant, Im getting married. I asked indifferently, And who is she? He answered, You wont like her, but I want you to know her name is Lizzie Hart. Shes twentysix, from a long line of doctorsquite the respectable catch. I rolled my eyes, Show me a photo. He produced his phone; the woman on the screen was of mixed AsianEuropean features. Is that a Gülçatay? I scoffed, She looks like a bulldogrhino hybrid. He smiled, Youll like her once you get to know her after the wedding. My breath caught; the thought of my future grandchildren made my stomach churn.
At the wedding Samuel pulled me aside, No drama, please. If Lizzie leaves because of you, Ill never forgive you. I sat silently, feeling like a mouse under a cats paw, watching the radiant bride and my son share smiles, dance, and laughter. The next day the newlyweds brought a box of treats for me, but I refused them at the door. Listen, son. Ive obeyed your wishes. Now hear mine: keep that halfbreed away from me. Do you realise what youre doing? You could have a thousand wives, but you only have one mother. They left, and I tossed the treats into the bin, muttering, I wont accept anything from this halfblood.
Soon after, I fell ill often, and Lizzie took it upon herself to look after me. We even hired a nighttime carer so I wouldnt be left alone. I could never accept her, still cursing the day Samuel dared compare me to her. You said youd find someone like me. Wheres the resemblance? I complained, forced to keep my tongue in check, which irritated me beyond measure. Theres a beauty on my head
When the phone rang, I answered in a sweet tone, Hello, dear Lizzie. How are you? My blood pressure is spikingcould you pop round and have a look? And that, dear diary, is where I am nowcaught between stubborn pride and an unexpected reliance on a daughterinlaw I never wanted.
