My husband walked out, taking the small nestegg we had saved for a house and disappearing down a fogfilled street in London. I was left in a rented flat in Camden with my sixmonthold daughter, Poppy. Word of my ruin reached my motherinlaw, Evelyn, who arrived at my door clutching a battered handbag.
Pack your things, she said, eyes glinting like streetlamps. Youll live with me and the little one.
I tried to refuse. For years Evelyn and I had sparred, each word a dull clatter of kitchen knives. No kind phrase ever passed between us. Yet when James fled, Evelyn was the only one who reached out. My own mother declared there was no room for me under her roof, and my elder sister, Helen, scoffed, living with her own brood in Manchester. My mothers whole life seemed a dance she could never stop.
Ill be grateful for your hospitality, I whispered, my voice a cracked lullaby.
It was the first time I ever said thank you to Evelyn.
Dont be absurd, she chuckled, lifting Poppy into her arms. Come, darling, let mum get ready. We wont be a bother. Will you live with Grandmum, love? Of course you will. Grandma will spin tales, take you on walks, braid your hair
Her soft, humming tone felt surreal, as if the walls were breathing. She had always warned me never to draw near her old oak.
I gathered my modest belongings, and we moved into Evelyns cottage in the Cotswolds. She prepared a spacious bedroom for us while she settled into a cosy attic. I rubbed my eyes, bewildered, as she smiled.
Whats the matter? she asked. The child needs room to tumble; shell be crawling soon. I dont need much space myself. Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be ready in an hour.
She offered steamed vegetables and boiled beef for supper, saying, Youre nursing, of course. If youd like, I can fry something, but a light meal is better for the baby. Its up to you.
The fridge was lined with rows of tiny jars of baby food.
Its time for new flavours, isnt it? If Poppy dislikes this batch, well pick up something else. Speak up, dont be shy, Evelyn said, her smile widening.
Tears welled and spilled over. Her unexpected kindness struck me like a sudden gust of wind in a nighttime meadow. No one had ever cared for me and my daughter as she now did, the very woman Id always regarded as my chief adversary. She pulled me close.
Shh, dear, shh. Men are odd creatures. I raised your husband alone after his father vanished when the boy was eight months old. I wont let my granddaughter grow up like this. Thats enough crying, love. Pull yourself together.
Through sobs I explained that I had never imagined such tenderness from her and thanked her again.
Thank you, truly. If not for you, I dont know where Poppy and I would be.
Youre not blameless either, she replied, I raised that boy carelessly. Ill try to mend what I can. Come, wash your face and go to bed. Tomorrow will be brighter.
We celebrated Poppys first birthday togetherme, Evelyn, and our little angellike three spirits in a sundrenched garden. We laid Poppy down for an afternoon nap, sipping tea and nibbling cake, when a knock echoed through the cottage door. Evelyn opened it.
Mum, meet Lucy, a voice called. Lucy, this is my mother. Mum, can we stay with you for a while? I cant afford rent, Ive lost my job.
Hearing Jamess name, my skin turned to ash. Fear flooded me that Evelyn would let him and his new partner inside, casting us out. Tears rushed to my eyes.
Get out! Take your girl with you. You robbed your wife and child, left them penniless. Thats the price life has paid you. Go! And you, Lucywatch out. He might leave you emptyhanded too.
I had been terribly wrong about Evelyn. She became not a second mother, but the first. We lived under one roof for six years, until I married again. At my second wedding she stood where a mother of the bride would, a quiet sentinel. Poppy now goes to school, and a baby boy is on the way. Evelyn beams at the thought of a new grandchild, her garden humming with the promise of another dream.
