Mom, I didnt sign up to be your maid, I say into the phone, hearing my mother, Margaret, answer my sons earlymorning call.
Mate, weve got a problem. The landlady wants us to vacate the flat immediately. Clear out as much of my room as you can. Well be there tonight with the whole family.
Margaret is taken aback. Thats ridiculous Ive heard you cant just throw people out of a rented flat in winter, especially without a formal tenancy agreement. They should at least give us some time to find somewhere else.
Alex, her son, retorts, They wont give us any time. Natalie had a row with the landlady yesterday, and shes the one whos caused this.
Exactly, Margaret replies. Natalie needs to learn to keep her mouth shut and show a bit of respect.
Alex snaps, Dont start, Mum! Im telling you, sort the room out now. Well be back this evening with all our stuff. He hangs up, and Margaret is left staring at the silent handset, her mind racing.
The previous day at work had been brutal: two new hires arrived, and her boss demanded she show them everything, while she also had to finish two reports for senior management and a mountain of other tasks. By evening she barely drags herself home, more a limp than a stride.
She had big plans for the weekend. Saturday was meant for a lazy liein followed by a stroll in the park, and Sunday was reserved for shopping with her friend. Now everything is thrown into chaos.
She cant imagine fitting four people herself, Alex, his wife Natalie, and her sevenyearold grandson Oliver into a cramped twobed flat. The weekends grand scheme collapses. She must first clear out Alexs former room, shuffle a few pieces of furniture, then dash to the shop and start cooking dinner.
The prospect does not warm her heart. Its not that she dislikes her son or grandson; its just that her relationship with Natalie is, to put it mildly, strained. She constantly tries to treat Natalie with courtesy to avoid upsetting Alex, but tensions flare regularly.
Despite the ruined plans and sour mood, Margaret begins tidying. She heads to the shop, picks up a few essentials, and prepares a simple supper.
By evening everything is ready. When Alex arrives with his family, the flat fills with noise and laughter. Margaret retreats early to her bedroom. Alex and Natalie linger at the table while Oliver watches cartoons.
Enjoy your night, she says, leaving the kitchen. You can clear the table yourselves, right, Nat?
Sure, Natalie murmurs, eyes glued to her phone.
Halfasleep, Margaret hears the chuckles and footfalls but pretends not to notice. She assumes the visit is brief, just a temporary stay. In her mind, Natalies own family troubles have forced this. Margaret has repeatedly urged Natalie to learn compromise and respect, but Natalie either brushes her off or ignites another dramatic scene.
The next morning Margarets alarm wakes her. She walks into the kitchen and is stunned: halffinished tea cups, a pile of candy wrappers, and apple cores litter the table; the sink brims with unwashed dishes.
Mom, whats for breakfast? Alex asks, sleepy, as she scrambles to tidy the aftermath of last nights dinner.
Make some toast and tea. Ill only have coffee, she replies.
Dads stuck in traffic, Im starving, he protests.
Then the blame falls on the wife. Let her spend forty minutes in the bathroom and get you breakfast. I never signed up to be a maid, yet Im late for work and still have to wash the dishes you left behind yesterday.
Just as she finishes, Natalie wanders in, rubbing her eyes.
I knew it, Margaret Harding, its half past seven and youre already griping.
Im not griping, Nat, Margaret says. Im talking to Alex. Could you at least make him breakfast? I cant keep washing and cooking for you all.
Right, Natalie replies, still disengaged.
The following five days are tense. Margaret holds herself together, hoping Alex will sort the housing issue within a week so she can finally have peace on the weekends.
Friday night passes without any sign of the family leaving. Margaret thinks Alex simply doesnt want to involve her further. Saturday morning finds Alex and Natalie asleep like the dead. By lunchtime Alex finally emerges from his room and Margaret realises no move is planned.
On Sunday she asks him directly, Alex, have you found a flat?
Weve been looking. Everythings either too pricey or too far. Well probably stay with you another week.
Fine, stay then, she answers resignedly. She cant kick them out; shell just endure another week.
But nothing changes. The family settles in deeper, showing no intent to move. Natalie doesnt lift a finger at home, dumping dirty dishes in the sink and crashing on the sofa. She tosses clothes into a basket, leaving Margaret to wash, iron, cook, and clean all weekend.
Nat, Im heading to the store, could you please mop the floor?
Im the lady of the house, Margaret. Ill do something else later maybe tomorrow.
Its not just my house, Nat. You live here too.
Whats your problem? My head hurts! she shouts.
This is absurd! Margaret cries.
Exactly, you set this up! Natalie snaps back.
Margaret stops the argument, goes to the shop, finishes the cleaning, then sits down with a cup of tea.
A sudden, relentless thumping wakes her Oliver is bouncing a ball inside.
Oliver, play with the ball outside, not in the flat. Its evening, the neighbours are watching, she warns.
Grandma, I want to play now, Mom and Dad wont take me out, he replies, ricocheting the ball off the floor.
Stop it, Margaret demands.
Alex steps out of his room.
Alex, tell Oliver to stop.
Before he can answer, Natalie interjects, Exactly! Youve been picking on me all morning, now youre harassing the child. What do you want, to throw us out?
If you wont respect my rules, perhaps you should find somewhere else to live, Margaret says.
A heavy silence follows.
Fine! Were moving out! By the way, Im pregnant and cannot be stressed! Natalie yells, storming to her room.
Son, I didnt know you were expecting. Im not asking for miracles; I just want my own home.
That evening Natalie packs her things, declares she and Oliver will move to the neighbouring town to stay with her parents while Alex continues hunting for a flat.
Margaret watches the scene, trying to intervene, but Natalie is adamant, crying theatrically, gathering her luggage, refusing any compromise.
Three days later Alex finally secures a new flat and, with his family, moves out of Margarets place. She gives the flat a deep clean, takes a weeks holiday, and life returns to a normal rhythm, though the bitter aftertaste lingers.
Communication with Alex becomes so sparse that Margaret learns about the birth of a granddaughter only through mutual acquaintances. Its awkward, the family drama still hangs over everything, but theres little she can do.
Margaret now lives for herself. She visits a health resort twice a year, sends money to the grandchildren for birthdays, and receives birthday calls from Alex, though only over the phone.
No resort or personal space can replace genuine connection with the grandchildren, yet she believes one can bring happiness to others only when theyre truly happy themselves. Thats Margarets philosophy, and she doesnt regret her choices. Shes ready to reconnect with the grandchildren whenever they wish, but whether that happens rests entirely with Natalie, and the moral weight of the past remains hers alone.
