**A Stroke of Luck**
“Mum, how much longer will this go on?” snapped Evelyn with irritation. “Oliver is twenty now! Hes a grown man and ought to be living on his own. Yet you fuss over him like hes made of glass. Its sickening.”
“If it sickens you, dont look,” retorted Margaret. “Mind your own life, not ours. Youve got young Christopher to raise.”
“And I *am* raising him!”
“Poorly,” Margaret cut in. “That boys running wild.”
“He is *not*! Hes just at that difficult age! As if Oliver was some perfect angel at his age.”
“No, he wasnt an angel,” Margaret narrowed her eyes, “but he did well in school, helped around the house, never gave cheek. Christopher only knows how to beg for moneynever a word of thanks.”
“Well, so what? Youre his grandmother!”
“Does that mean he shouldnt show gratitude? Just take and take? Though I shouldnt be surprisedhe takes after *you*!”
“Whats *that* supposed to mean?!” Evelyn cried.
“Only that Ive never heard a kind word from younothing but complaints and accusations.”
“Mum!”
“What, ‘Mum’? Am I wrong? Youre raising that boy to be just as selfish. Everyone owes him something. Everyones to blame. Hes even started pestering Oliver’Dont you see I need a new laptop?’ Ive put up with his nonsense so far, but mark my words, my patience wont last.”
“And what then?” Evelyns eyes flashed with undisguised fury.
“Ill cut him off. Not another penny. And Ill tell Oliver to do the same.”
“Oh, how terrifying!” Evelyn scoffed. “I thought youd come up with something worse.”
“I dont need to ‘come up’ with anything,” Margaret frowned. “Hes my grandsonI love him. But I wont tolerate his cheek. Ill put him in his place so firmly hell forget the way here.”
“And how will your precious Oliver manage without his darling nephew?”
“*My* Oliver?” Margaret spun round and fixed her daughter with a glare.
“Well *ours*,” Evelyn faltered. “What does it matter? Hes so fond of him.”
Silence fell over the room. Margaret clenched her jaw, holding back words that burned on her tongue.
The door creaked softly, and Oliver stepped intall, lean, his hair slightly ruffled. He glanced wearily between his mother and sister.
“Again?” he asked. “Will you two ever stop quarrelling?”
“Stay out of it,” Evelyn snapped. “This isnt your business!”
“Not mineMums. But listen to your tone! And I *do* have a right to step in. Who else will stand up for her?”
“A *right*?” Evelyn smirked. “Your only right is to live off her and pretend everythings fine.”
“I live off her?” Oliver stepped closer, his voice sharp with indignation. “I work. I help at home. I dont cause scenes. *You* march in here and turn everything into a circus.”
“Mum just doesnt see youre becoming a freeloader!” Evelyn burst out. “She coddles you! Everything for you, everything about you!”
“Evelyn!” Margaret cut in sharply. “Enough. Youre being unfair.”
“Unfair?” Her daughters voice trembled with bitterness. “Ive never had half of what hes been givenall the care, all the affection! And what did I get? Scraps!”
“Whats any of this got to do with *me*?” Oliver asked quietly, stunned by her resentment. “Youre the one who pushes everyone awayalways bitter, always nursing grudges. Maybe thats why people avoid you?”
“Oh, so *Im* the villain now?” Evelyns eyes blazed.
Oliver opened his mouth to retort, but Margaret stepped between them.
“Dont,” she said firmly. “Evelyn is your elder sister. You *will* respect her.”
“But she respects no one!” Oliver shot back. “She storms in, picks fights, insults everyone. Its high time someone put herand Christopherin their place. Last week, he took a fair bit of cash from my wallet without asking.”
A heavy silence followed. His words struck like thunder.
Evelyns cheeks flushed, her eyes glitterednot just with anger, but something worse: helpless despair.
Margaret braced herself. One more word, and Evelyn would snapsay what must never be said. Not now.
But what came out was:
“Youre lying! Christopher would *never* do that! Hes my sonhes no thief!”
“Evelyn” Margaret kept her voice steady. “I trust Oliver. He doesnt lie. But Christophers behaviour *is* questionable. You need to talk to himgently.”
“Dont you *dare* accuse my son!” Evelyn gasped with rage.
“Then dont accuse *mine* of lying,” Margaret countered.
“*Yours*?” Evelyns eyes blazed. “What son?! Hes *no* son of yours!”
Margaret went very still.
“What?” Oliver stiffened. “Mum, whats she saying?”
“Shes telling the truth,” Margaret whispered, pale. “Im not your mother.”
For a moment, Oliver stood frozen. The words echoed in his head like a tolling bell.
Evelyn, breathing hard, collapsed onto the sofa. She couldnt believe what shed just done.
Memories crashed over her.
Shed been so young. Just out of school.
Hopelessly in love
She hadnt realised she was pregnant at first. By the time she did, it was too late to end it.
The boy had shrugged:
“Are you sure its mine?”
Shed confessed to her parents. Her mother had wept and raged. Her fatherstill alive thenhad threatened to throw her out for shaming the family.
But the storm passed. Theyd rallied around her.
Evelyn had the baby. Her parents adored their grandson.
Then her father died. Money grew tight. So Evelyn left for London to workMargaret agreed to care for Oliver.
The first year was fine: Evelyn visited, sent money.
Then she vanished.
A new love, a move, another sonone Margaret and Oliver knew nothing about for years.
Evelyns new man never knew Oliver existed.
Then he tossed her and her child onto the street, and she came home.
Oliver was ten by then, Christopher five. Margaret forgave her daughter but refused to live with her. She saw the truth: Evelyn felt nothing for Oliver. How could she? Shed last seen him at two. He called Margaret *Mum* now
So shed proposed a lie: Evelyn would be his sister, returned from afar.
***
Olivers voice dragged Evelyn back.
“Then who *is* my mother?” he asked softly, as if afraid of the answer.
Evelyn shuddered. She couldnt say itnot to his face.
Her hands shook. Tears fell unchecked.
“O-Oliver” she managed, but the words died.
Margaret saw the wreckage and acted.
She stepped to Oliver, embraced him, and whispered:
“Darling, dont be upset. The truth is Evelyn is your mother.”
Oliver went still.
He looked at Evelyncrumpled on the sofa, quietly weeping.
Disgust twisted inside him.
After a pause, he asked coldly:
“So you” he turned to Margaret, “are my grandmother? Or are you not even related?”
“Oliver!” Evelyn jolted upright. “Of course were family! Mother and daughter. And Christopherhes your little brother!”
Oliver laugheda hollow sound.
“What luck.”
His gaze locked onto Evelyn with such hatred she recoiled.
“Right. Ive heard enough,” he said, steel in his voice. “I need to be alone.”
He left.
The door clicked shut. The flat drowned in silence.
***
Evelyn sat trembling. Her face was ashen, her heart pounding wildly.
“What have I done?” she whispered. “Ive got my son backand now I dont know what to do. Hell hate me. And Christopherhow do I tell him Olivers his brother? He wont understand. Wont forgive Mum, why didnt you stop me?”
Margaret stood nearby. She knew: Evelyn was facing the ruin of her own illusionsand she was terrified. Scolding her now was pointless. Shed longed for the truth to come out.
Shed never considered the cost.
Margaret sat beside her and murmured:
“Itll be all right, love. Olivers a good lad. Hell come round.”
“What happens now
