“I dont have a spare room,” my daughter said when I arrived with my bags.
“Mum, did you pack everything? Did you remember your documents?” Charlotte fidgeted with her handbag strap, standing by the kitchen window.
“Do you think Ive completely lost my mind?” Margaret waved her off, checking the contents of her suitcase for the third time. “Passports here, moneys here, medicine Oh, I forgot my dressing gown! Charlie, wheres my blue one?”
“In the wardrobe. Mum, do you really need it? Im sure Emma will have something you can borrow.”
Margaret stopped and gave her daughter a long look.
“Charlie, love, Im not just staying overnight. Emma invited me for a proper visit, a break from the city. The airs lovely there, and the rivers close by. You said yourself itd do me good.”
“I did, I did” Charlotte turned back to the window. “I just didnt know then that James would be out of work again. Third time this year.”
Her mother moved closer, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“You didnt tell me. What happened?”
“Whats there to say? They brought in a new manager, wanted to refresh the team. James was first on the chopping block. Years of experience didnt mattertheyre hiring kids wholl work for peanuts.”
Margaret sighed and sat down on a stool.
“Oh, love, thats hard. Maybe I should stay? Help you both out”
“Dont, Mum. Go. Emmas expecting youshes got everything ready.” Charlotte forced a smile, but it didnt reach her eyes. “Youll have a proper rest, recharge.”
Margaret opened her mouth to reply, but the phone rang.
“Hello? Mum? Its me, Emma! Are you still coming? Ive aired out the room, fresh sheets and everything!”
“Im coming, love. Charlies taking me to the station soon.”
“Brilliant! I was starting to worry. Oh, Mum, Ive missed you! Its gorgeous hereapple trees in bloom, the airs so clean. Youll feel the difference straight away after London smog.”
“Lovely, love. See you soon.”
Margaret hung up and glanced at Charlotte.
“See how happy she is? Hasnt seen me in months.”
“Yeah. Thrilled.” Charlotte grabbed her car keys. “Come on, Mum, youll miss your train.”
The drive to the station was quiet. Margaret tried a few times to talk, but Charlotte gave short answers, lost in thought.
“Charlie, maybe I *should* stay? I can tell youre struggling.”
“Mum, stop. Its fine. James has been jobless beforehell find something.”
“But what about money? How will you manage?”
Charlotte braked sharply at a red light.
“Well manage. Ive got my salary, hell get benefits. We wont starve.”
“But the mortgage”
“Mum, *please*. Stay out of it. Were adults; well sort it.”
Margaret turned to the window, uneasy. Charlotte had never been this sharp with her. Something was wrongsomething serious.
At the station, as she saw her mother off, Charlotte suddenly hugged her tight.
“Sorry, Mum. Im just on edge.”
“I know, love. Call me if you need me. Ill come straight back.”
“Have a good rest. Say hi to Emma for me.”
The train pulled away, and Margaret waved from the window until Charlotte disappeared from view.
Emma met her at the station with a bouquet of lilacs and a bright smile.
“Mum! Youre here!” She squeezed her tight. “How was the journey? Tired?”
“Not too bad. You look wonderful, love! So tanned and healthy.”
“Country air. Beats choking on city fumes. Come on, lets get you homeyou havent seen the new house yet!”
The house *was* lovelycozy, with a big garden and a view of the river. Emma gave a proud tour, pointing out new furniture, fresh paint.
“Thisll be your room,” she said, opening the door to a sunlit space with two windows. “See? Morning sun, river views in the evening.”
“Gorgeous, love. Wheres Tom?”
“Still at work. Hell be chuffed to see youkeeps asking when youll bake your famous pies again.”
“Ill whip some up, dont worry.” Margaret sat on the bed, taking it in. “Its so peaceful here.”
“We love it. Toms got steady work, I do bits here and there. Were thinking of starting a family soon.”
“Oh, thatd be wonderful! Grandbabies at last.”
Emma sat beside her, taking her hand.
“Mum hows Charlotte? She sounded off when I called.”
“Trouble with James. He lost his job again.”
“*Again*? But hes brilliant at what he does!”
“Just unlucky, I suppose. Charlies taking it hard.”
Emma frowned. “What if they moved here? Plenty of jobs, cheaper living. Tom could ask around.”
“I dont know, love. Theyre city people. And the flat mortgage still pending.”
“Yeah. Tricky.” Emma stood. “Rest a bit, Mum. Ill start dinner.”
That evening, Tom was delighted to see her. They lingered on the patio with tea, chatting as Margaret felt the weight of the past months lift. Here, in this quiet place, she could breathe.
A week passed. Margaret helped in the garden, explored the village, read. She called Charlotte daily, but the calls were tense and brief.
“Hows it going, love?”
“Fine. James has interviews lined up.”
“And you? Not overdoing it?”
“Exhausted. But coping.”
“Charlie, maybe I should come back?”
“*No*, Mum. Emma was so excited for this. Stay.”
“But if you need me”
“Mum, *stop*. Were fine.”
Yet Margaret worried. Charlottes voice grew thinner; once, shed even cried before quickly brushing it off.
“Emma, I think Ill head home,” Margaret said over breakfast. “Somethings not right with Charlie.”
“Mum, youve barely *been* here! I wanted to show you the market, take you boating”
“I know, love. But my guts telling me shes in trouble.”
Emma sighed. “If youre sure, Tomll drive you.”
On the train, Margarets unease grew. She tried callingno answer.
She reached the flat by evening. The lift creaked louder than usual; the hallway felt stifling. Her key turned, but the door was latched from inside.
“Charlie? Its me!”
Silence, then footsteps.
“Mum? Youre supposed to be at Emmas”
“Open the door, love.”
When it swung open, Charlotte stood therehollow-eyed, thinner, tear-streaked.
“Charlie! Whats happened?”
“Nothing. Just tired.”
Inside, suitcases sat in the hall. Papers covered the table.
“Whats going on? Wheres James?”
Charlotte collapsed onto the sofa, face in her hands.
“Mum, I didnt know how to tell you. Didnt want to ruin your trip.”
“Tell me *now*.”
“Hes gone. For good. Said we were dragging each other down. Moved in with a mate.”
Margaret pulled her close. “Oh, love I thought it was just the job.”
“That too. Doesnt matter now.” Charlotte looked up. “Mum, Im selling the flat. Cant keep up the mortgage alone. Buyers are lined upsigning next week.”
“But where will you *live*?”
“Rent a room somewhere.”
Margaret hesitated. “Come stay with me?”
“Mum, your flats tiny. Where would I *sleep*?”
“Well manage. Sofas comfy, and”
“I wont cramp you. And my jobs miles from yours.”
“What about Emmas? She mentioned jobs there.”
Charlotte shook her head. “I wont be a burden.”
They sat in silence, holding each other. Margaret knew words wouldnt helpjust being there would.
The next day, they sorted the flat sale. The buyers were decent, no haggling.
“Feels like a weights lifted,” Charlotte admitted after signing. “Mortgage cleared, bit left over. Enough to start fresh.”
“And then what?”
“Ill figure it out. Maybe maybe Emmas right. She rang again last night.”
“Go, love. Clean air, good people. Youll find work.”
Charlotte stopped mid-step.
“Will you come with me?”
“Me? Ive got my life herethe library, my doctor”
“But youll be *alone*.”
Margaret smiled. “Ill manage. And Ill visit loads.”
On moving day, Charlotte packed only essentialsclothes, documents, a few treasured trinkets.
“Rest can be sold,” she said, eyeing the near-empty flat. “Fresh start, fresh things.”
“Good attitude.”
At the station, Charlotte broke down.
“Mum, Im *sorry*. For snapping, for hiding things I was *ashamed*.”
“Dont be daft. Lifes just beginning.” Margaret hugged her tight. “Youll thrive. Emmas thrilled to have you, Tomll help. Ill visit soon.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
The train left. Margaret waved until it vanished, then walked home slowly. The flat felt too quiet, but not lonely. Shed done the right thingnot smothering, not clinging.
A week later, Charlotte called, voice bright.
“Mum! Guess what? Ive got a *job*! Local school needed a history teacher. The deputy took one look at my CV and hired me on the spot!”
“Thats *wonderful*! And the room?”
“Staying with Emma for now. She says theres no rushtheir place is huge.”
“Emmas always had a big heart.”
“Yeah. And Mum? Ive slept better here than in *years*. Maybe maybe this *is* where I belong.”
Hanging up, Margaret smiled. Charlotte would be alright. And she? Shed stay in her own world, content knowing both daughters had found their paths.
That evening, she wrote to Emmathanking her for taking Charlotte in, for her kindness. Sometimes the best help was simply *being there*, no questions asked.
The next day, Margaret rang a travel agent, browsing seaside holidays. At her age, new beginnings were possible toofreer, fuller ones. The girls were settled. Now it was *her* turn.
*”I dont have a spare room,”* Charlotte had said. And she was right. There *are* no spare roomsjust the right time and place for everyone. A parents wisdom lies in knowing when to let go.
