My mother, Margaret Turner, asks me to take a paternity test and I agree, even though I have never doubted that Emily is my daughter.
My name is Victor Turner, Im thirtyseven, and despite having everything I ever wanted, one thing still escapes me a family of my own. Since my father died six years ago, Ive been sharing a twobedroom flat with my mum. I didnt want to let her down, so I earned a respectable degree, landed a solid job in London, and met the expectations she set for me. She waits impatiently for the day Ill announce Ive found a partner, so she can start doting on grandchildren.
Eventually I meet a girl called Angelina Hughes, whos come from a small village in Yorkshire and, at the time, is still a university student. Her family isnt wealthy, but that matters little to me. My mother disapproves, saying Angelina isnt suitable for me. For the first time I follow my heart and start dating her. After a few months I bring her home, tell my mum well be moving in together, and let her know shes pregnant with my child. My mother insists that Angelina is only staying in the city on a whim.
Even though Margaret objects, Angelina moves in with us, and my mum reluctantly accepts her. At first Margaret isnt thrilled about Angelina, but over time she grows more tolerant. Angelina proves to be a wonderful homemaker, and Margaret seems to settle down. Still, she hopes to drive a wedge between us.
A few months later we welcome a baby girl, Emily. My mother asks for a paternity test; we comply, though I never doubted that Emily is mine. The test confirms Im the father, yet Margaret still refuses to embrace Angelina as part of the family. She even suggests I should part ways with Angelina and give the child to her.
Im furious and decide to leave my mothers house with Angelina and little Emily. Since then I keep in touch with Margaret only minimally, because I see her as selfish and indifferent to my feelings. Its a shame she couldnt accept Angelina as family, but Im not willing to tolerate her behaviour any longer.
