25October2025
Dear Diary,
James walked out of my life yesterday, taking the savings we had painstakingly set aside for a house and disappearing without a trace. I was left alone in a modest rented flat in Leeds with our sixmonthold daughter, Lily. My motherinlaw, Eleanor Whitaker, heard the news and turned up at the door, her voice sharp as she said:
Pack your things, youll move in with Lily at my place.
I tried to protest. Eleanor and I have been at odds for years, each word between us a battlefield, never a compliment exchanged. When James fled, she was the only one who reached out. My own mother told me there was no room for me in her house, and my older sister, who lives with her own children at our mothers, echoed the same sentiment. My mother, forever dancing around her problems, seemed to have no time for me.
Thank you, I muttered, my voice barely a whisper. It was the first time Id ever said thank you to Eleanor.
Dont be daft! Youre not a stranger, she snapped, scooping Lily into her arms. Come on, love. Let Mum get ready and we wont be in each others way. Will you live with Grandma, dear? Of course you will. Ill read you stories, take you for walks, braid your hair
She spoke in a tone so gentle I could not believe my ears. She had always warned me never to get near her old barn of a house. I gathered my few belongings and moved in with Eleanor. She arranged a large bedroom for us while she settled into a smaller room herself. I blinked in surprise as she said:
Right then, the little one needs space; shell be crawling soon enough. I dont need much room. Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be ready in an hour.
She offered steamed vegetables and boiled meat for supper and added:
Youre nursing, arent you? If youd like something fried I can do that, but a lighter diet is better for the baby. Its up to you.
The fridge was stocked with rows of baby jars.
Its time to try new flavours, isnt it? If Lily isnt happy with this selection well pick something else. Speak up, dont be shy, Eleanor said, smiling at me.
The kindness in her eyes broke me. I burst into tears, overwhelmed by a tenderness I had never imagined from the woman Id always seen as my chief adversary. She pulled me close and whispered:
Shh, little one, shh. Men are strange. I raised your husband alone after his father left when he was eight months old. I wont let my granddaughter grow up like that. Thats enough, youve cried enough. Pull yourself together.
Through my sobs I managed to tell Eleanor I never expected such generosity and thanked her:
Thank you, truly. If it werent for you, I dont know where Lily and I would be.
She replied, Im the one who failed raising my son properly. Ill try to mend what I can now. Come, wash your face and get some rest. Tomorrow will be brighter.
We celebrated Lilys first birthday togetherjust the three of us, Eleanor, Lily, and me, our favourite grandma and guardian angel. After putting Lily down for her afternoon nap, we sipped tea and nibbled cake when the doorbell rang. Eleanor answered.
Mum, meet Sophie, a young voice called. Sophie, this is my mother. Mum, could we stay with you for a while? I cant afford a rent, Im out of work.
Hearing Jamess name in that moment, my skin turned pale. I feared Eleanor would let them back in and throw Lily and me out. Tears welled up again.
Get out! Take your girl and go. You stole from your wife and child, leaving us penniless. Thats what life has handed you back. Leave now. And you, Sophie, watch outhe might abandon you too.
I was terribly wrong about Eleanor. She became more than a second mother; she was my first. We lived under the same roof for six years, until I remarried. At my wedding she stood in the place usually reserved for the brides mother. Lily now goes to primary school, and a baby brother is on the way. Eleanor beams with joy at the thought of a new grandchild.
I am grateful beyond words for the woman who turned from foe to family when I needed her most.
Claire Thompson.
