I had become their unpaid nanny and cook, until they saw me at the airport with a one-way ticket.
“Nan, hi! Am I interrupting?” The voice of my daughter-in-law, Emily, chirped with forced cheer on the other end of the line.
I stirred the long-cold soup in silence. Interrupting? I was never too busy when they needed something.
“Go on, Emily.”
“Weve got newsabsolute bombshell! Me and James have booked tickets, were off to Spain for two weeks! All-inclusive, can you believe it? Last-minute deal!”
I could picture it. Sun, sea, James and Emily. And just out of frametheir five-year-old son, Alfie. My grandson.
“Congratulations. Im happy for you,” I said flatly, the words lifeless, like a medicine leaflet.
“So! Youll take Alfie, wont you? He cant go to nursery now, theres chickenpox going round again.”
And swimming lessons, cant miss those. And the speech therapist next week, Ill send you the schedule.
She spoke quickly, not letting me get a word in, as if afraid Id think too hard and refuse. Though I never refused.
“Emily, I was thinking of going to the cottage for a few days while the weather holds,” I began, already disbelieving my own weak protest.
“The cottage?” Her voice dripped with genuine bafflement, as if Id announced plans to fly to Mars. “Nan, what cottage? Seriously?”
Your grandson needs you, and youre fussing over flowerbeds. Were not off gallivantingthis is about our wellbeing. Sea air, vitamins!
I stared out the window at the grey courtyard. My sea air. My vitamins.
“And,” Emily barrelled on, “the cat foods being delivered Wednesday, premium stuff, twelve kilos. Couriers between ten and six, so youll need to be in. Oh, and water the plants, especially the orchid. Shes fussy.”
She listed my duties as if they were obvious. I wasnt a personjust a function. A free, convenient add-on to their comfortable lives.
“Alright, Emily. Of course.”
“Thats my girl! Knew we could count on you!” She trilled like shed granted me a great favour. “Right, kisses, better dashgot suitcases to pack!”
The line went dead.
I set the phone down slowly.
My eyes fell on the wall calendar. Next Saturday was circled in redthe day of my long-awaited reunion with friends I hadnt seen in nearly a year.
I picked up a damp cloth and wiped the mark away in one motion. Erasing another tiny fragment of my unlived life.
No anger, no resentment. Just a sticky, creeping emptiness and one quiet, clear question: When would they notice I wasnt just a free service, but a living person?
Probably only when they saw me at the airport with a one-way ticket.
Alfie arrived the next day. James, my son, lugged in an enormous suitcase, a sports bag crammed with swim gear, and three carrier bags of toys. He wouldnt meet my eyes.
“Mum, weve got to dashflights soon,” he muttered, dumping the suitcase in the hallway.
Emily fluttered in after him, already in holiday modeflimsy dress, floppy sunhat. Her gaze swept my modest flat, quick and appraising.
“Nina, dont let Alfie binge on telly, read to him instead. And go easy on the sweetshe gets hyper.”
Heres a list, everythings written down. Routine, therapist numbers, meal plan.
She spoke as if Id never met my own grandson. As if I hadnt raised him from infancy while they climbed career ladders.
“Emily, I know what he likes,” I said quietly.
“Knowing and diet plans are different,” she snipped. “Right, Alfie-love, be good for Nanny! Well bring you a big, big truck!”
They left in a cloud of expensive perfume and a lingering draft.
Alfie, realising hed been left, wailed. The first three days were a blur.
Swimming lessons one end of town, speech therapy the other. Tantrums, tears at night, endless “want Mummy.” I was exhausted.
On day four, I dared to call James. Theyd just checked into their hotel.
“Mum? Everything alright? Alfie okay?” His voice was tense.
“Alfies fine. James I need to talk. Its too much. I cant keep up.”
Maybe hire a sitter for a few hours? Id pay half.
Silence. Then a heavy sigh.
“Mum, dont start, yeah? Weve only just got here. Emilys stressed enough. A sitter? Whod we trust? Youre his nan. This should be a joy.”
“Joy doesnt cancel exhaustion. Im not getting younger.”
“Youre just out of practice,” he said firmly. “Youll adjust. Lets not ruin the trip, eh? We hardly ever get away. Right, Mum, gotta goEmilys calling.”
He hung up. I stared at the phone, something inside me hardening. Not anger.
Just cold, clear understanding. To him, I wasnt his mother who might struggle. I was a resource. Reliable, tested, andcruciallyfree.
On Wednesday, as promised, the cat food arrived. The courier dumped the massive sack on the doorstep and muttered something about “doorstep delivery” before vanishing.
It took me ten minutes to drag the twelve-kilo monster inside, my back screaming. When I finally managed, I sat beside the fishy-smelling bag and laughed. A silent, hollow laugh.
That evening, Emily called. Waves and music in the background.
“Nina, hi! Hows my orchid? Only filtered water, remember? And at the roots, not the leaves!”
She didnt ask about Alfie. Or me. Just the plant.
“I remember, Emily. Everythings under control,” I said, eyeing the cursed cat food.
That night, I barely slept. Not thinking of the cottage or my missed reunion. I opened the wardrobe, took out my old savings book and passport. Just held them, tracing the cover with my fingers.
The thought that had flickered to life after James call no longer felt like fantasy. It had shape. A plan.
The call came on day ten of their “break.” James, mid-afternoon, just as Alfie went down for his nap.
“Mum! Hows our little champ?”
“Sleeping.”
“Listen, thing is” He hesitated. I knew what was coming. “This place is paradise. Hotels offering a discount if we stay another week. Can you believe our luck?”
I didnt speak. I already knew.
“Thing is, were a bit short” That wheedling tone I hated. “Mum, could you?”
Long story short, Emily remembered Dads sapphire earrings. You never wear them.
“What do you want, James?” My voice was eerily calm.
“Pawn them, yeah?” he blurted. “Well get good money, just enough. Well buy them back straight after! Scouts honour! Theyre just gathering dust!”
Emilys voice cut in: “James, stop waffling! Nina, theyre just things! We deserve a proper holiday!”
Just things. My memories. My family. My life. Just things to hock for their “proper holiday.”
Something inside me froze solid. Not shatteredjust set into ice.
The emptiness filled with cold, ringing resolve.
“Fine,” I said evenly. “How much?”
“Fifty grand should do it. Just snap the receipt so we know what to pay back.”
“Of course, James. Enjoy your holiday.”
I hung up. Creaked open Alfies door. He was sprawled in sleep, lips smacking softly. My little boy, wanted by no one but me.
And the ice in my chest cracked. I couldnt abandon him. But I couldnt go on like this either.
I texted James: “Not selling the earrings. Your holiday ends in four days, per your tickets. If youre not back by Sunday, Im contacting social services Monday. No discussion.”
The reply was instant: “Are you THREATENING us?!”
I didnt answer. I opened the airline site and booked a ticket. Malaga. Next Tuesday. No return.
They stormed in Sunday evening. Sunburnt, frazzled, furious.
“Happy now?” Emily shrieked. “Ruined the best holiday of our lives! Manipulative cow!”
James strode past to Alfies room. My grandson hurled himself at his father.
I stepped out from the kitchen, holding my passport with the ticket tucked inside. Utterly calm.
“Im glad youre back for your son,” I said softly. “Now listen. Both of you.”
They fell silent, startled by my tone.
“Five years, James. Five years Ive lived as your shadow.”
I collected Alfie when Emily was stuck at the salon. Sat up nights with his fevers so you could sleep. Cancelled dozens of plans because “Mum, we need help.”
Ive spent more time with your son than you both combined. I was your free function.
I turned to Emily.
“You never once asked how I was. But you never forgot your orchid. You thought this would last forever. That Id never leave.”
I laid the passport and ticket on the table.
“You were wrong. I love Alfie too much to vanish. But my role heres done. I want to see the sea too.”
James picked up the ticket, disbelieving. “Spain? Mum how long?”
“Havent decided,” I shrugged, lifting my pre-packed suitcase. “I want to live for myself. And you? Youre parents now. Fully. No help, no shortcuts, no sacrifices but your own. Learn.”
I kissed Alfies head. “Nanny will be back soon,” I lied, forcing a smile.
And I walked out. Left them in my little flat with twelve kilos of cat food, a fussy orchid, and full responsibility for their own lives.
For the first time in years, I didnt feel emptiness. Just the whisper of something new.
