28 October
The shriek came out of nowhere, sharp and highpitched, but I didnt flinch. Over the past months Id grown used to that voicemy exmotherinlaw, always appearing at the most inconvenient moments.
I turned slowly, cradling my eightmonthold son, Charlie, bundled snugly in a warm onesie. The park, a quiet corner of HydePark on a weekday, was almost empty; only a few hurried walkers trudged past, shoulders hunched against the chill.
Good afternoon, Margaret, I said flatly, trying not to show any irritation.
Margaret brushed off my greeting as if it were a bothersome fly. Her cheeks were flushed, not only from the cold but from anger. She stepped closer, lips pressed tight, eyes fixed on the boy.
What are you doing? she snapped, voice trembling with outrage. Do you even realise what youre putting him through? Its freezing out there! Hes dressed so lightlyhell catch his death! You want him to fall ill?
I glanced at Charlie. He had a thick coat, a woolen hat, a soft scarfeverything suitable for the weather.
Margaret, the temperature is eight degrees. Hes dressed appropriately.
Appropriately? she pressed, moving another step forward. Do you even know how a child should be held? Youre ruining his posture, youll make him a hunchback. Hes so skinnyare you starving him?
My jaw clenched. Charlie was perfectly healthy; the paediatrician praised his development at every checkup. Yet Margaret kept firing.
And these walks of yours! she continued, relentless. Two hours out in the wind every day! Are you torturing him? He needs warmth and rest, not your endless rambling in the cold!
I shifted Charlie to my other arm. He fussed, opened his eyes, then settled back to sleep.
Margaret, can we please
Please what? she interrupted, her tone dripping with disdain. Lets do this! You think you know how to raise a child? I brought up three of my own, and youre here, a firsttime mother, acting like youre an expert! Smart, arent you?
A familiar tightness coiled inside me. Each visit from Margaret felt like a tribunal, each encounter a piece of personal hell.
And youre to blame for everything! she declared, stepping even closer, eyes glittering. You tore the family apart! My son was happy until you created this circus! You drove him out, left the child fatherlessall your fault!
The words hung in the air, echoing in my mind. My guilt? Had I really broken the family?
We should go, I whispered, turning away.
Youre running from me? Margaret shouted after me. Youve ruined my sons life, and his grandsons too!
I quickened my pace, the park receding behind me, the accusations trailing like a fading echo. Charlie twitched but didnt wake. Margarets voice kept shouting, but I could no longer hear her. Only when the distance grew enough for the shouting to die out did I finally exhale, hands shaking, throat tight.
Why did Margaret think she could lay the blame at my feet?
The memory of that night flooded backmy flat, the door Id opened an hour early, my exhusband Daniel and the other woman in our bedroom, the same bedroom that should have been ours.
I didnt scream, didnt sob. I simply began packing his things. Daniel stammered, tried to justify himself, muttering about mistakes that didnt matter. I pointed toward the doorway. Three days later I filed for divorce.
Two weeks after that I discovered I was pregnant and told Daniel before we were officially separated. Margaret arrived at my flat that afternoon, pounding on the door until I opened it.
Cancel the divorce! she shouted from the threshold. What are you doing? Youre pregnant! The child needs both parents! You must forgive my son! Youre not in the right position, my dear!
I leaned wearily against the wall as she continued.
He made a mistake. Men do thatit’s what they are. But youre a woman! You must forgive, think of the family, think of the child!
What child? I asked quietly. The one wholl be ashamed of his father?
Shame? she snapped. You should be the one feeling shame! Youre destroying the family out of pride, selfishness! Imagine raising a child without a fatherthink of it! For the childs sake, one can turn a blind eye!
I closed my eyes.
Margaret, please go, I said. Leave.
I wont! she stamped her foot. I wont leave until you change your mind! Youre being obstinate, ruining your childs future, stubborn girl
But I didnt rescind the divorce. The legal stamp on my passport severed any tie with Daniel. Soon after, Charlie was borntiny, warm, my only child.
I never pursued child support; I didnt list Daniel as the father. He made it clear he wanted nothing to do with the boy. I worked from home, earned a decent wage, and my mother helped whenever I needed a break. I asked nothing from Daniels family, not even a penny. He never called to ask about the baby, never cared.
Margaret, however, pressed from all sides. She turned up at the hospital for the discharge without invitation, bouquet in hand.
What did you name him? she asked the moment I emerged with Charlie cradled.
Charlie, I replied.
Her face twisted.
Charlie? Why not Colin, after my father? I asked, I told you
I told you, Margaret. Hes my son, and I chose the name I wanted.
She pursed her lips but said nothing.
Then the visits beganfive times a week, unannounced, just showing up at the door demanding to see her grandson. She offered endless advice on feeding, swaddling, bathing, sleeping, holding, walking. I listened in silence, nodded, and did things my own way.
One day I finally snapped.
Enough, Margaret! I shouted as she began another tirade about the formula Id chosen. Stop telling me what to do! Hes my child, I know how to care for him!
She went from ashen to scarletred in an instant.
Youre shouting at me? she demanded.
Yes, I am! I met her gaze. I cant take it any longer. You come here every day and tear me down, criticize, accuseI’m fed up!
She turned and stalked away, stomping loudly. After that she showed up only twice a week, but each visit still felt like a punishment.
Now there was no peace even on the street.
I walked up to my flat, closed the door, and let the quiet settle over the apartment. I tucked Charlie into his cot, slipped off my coat, and sank onto the sofa. Margarets words still rang in my ears: You destroyed the family. Was it really me, or was it Daniel who shattered all our plans, who betrayed us? All I wanted was to raise my child.
Charlie breathed softly in his cot. I brushed his blanket, smiled at his sleepy grin. Its all right, I whispered to him. Everythings as it should be.
Two weeks passed in a calm hush. Margaret didnt appear, didnt call. I allowed myself a sliver of hope that she might finally be gone. Then, on Saturday morning, a sharp knock rattled the door.
I opened it to find Margaret standing there, eyes bright.
Hello, she said, drifting past me into the living room where Charlie was playing on the carpet. She knelt, cooing, My little bunny! My sweet, beautiful boy!
I followed, arms crossed.
Whats happening? I asked.
She turned, smiling broadly. Tomorrows baptism! Ive arranged everythingchurch, godparents, the whole lot.
My stare hardened.
What?
The baptism, she repeated, as if stating a fact. Tomorrow at twop.m. I chose a lovely parish, found wonderful godparents. All set.
Im the mother; I decide when my sons baptism is, I said, stepping forward.
She straightened, her smile turning steel.
I can decide. Who else is going to make the decision? You, you little piglet?
Its my child! I exhaled, voice shaking.
You? Youre young and foolish! You dont understand! I have experience! You should obey me, because you cant raise a son on your ownyoure not up to it yet.
Something inside me ignited, a blaze of anger and all the months of humiliation flooding back.
You have no right to be here! I shouted. No reason at all!
She took a step back, stunned.
This is my grandsons home! she protested.
Its not on paper! I retorted, moving closer. My exhusbands name is blank on the birth certificate. Legally he has no father, so you have no grandson!
Her face went pale, lips trembling.
Youre youre throwing me out?
Yes, I said firmly. Leave now.
She grabbed her bag and bolted out, Charlies cry echoing through the room. I lifted him, pressed him to my chest.
Its all right, love. Its all right, I murmured.
The week passed in a quiet lull.
Then the doorbell rang again. I opened it to see two figures: Margaret and Daniel, looking exhausted and irritable. Daniel clutched his coat as if ready to run.
Hello, Emma, Daniel muttered, avoiding my eyes.
Margaret shoved him forward. Before I could stop her, she dragged Daniel into the nursery.
Look! she exclaimed, pointing at Charlie. Your son! You must legally become his father! Its your duty!
Daniel glanced at the child, then turned away.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching his stubborn stare. I knew what I had to do.
Ill claim child support, I said evenly.
Daniel flinched, turning sharply toward me.
What?
Child support, I repeated. You earn well, Daniel. The court will award me a fair amount.
His face twisted with rage.
I dont want this child, he spat. Enough! Leave me alone! Im not responsible for anyone!
He stormed out, Margaret trailing after him, shouting, Daniel! Youre ruining my chances to see my grandson!
I shut the door, went to Charlie, who reached for my hands. I lifted him, cradling him close. A small smile crossed my lips. The plan had worked: Daniel didnt want his son, and Margaret was finally driven out.
Now I could finally breathe.
