23April
I find myself still clutching the mug of tea, the way its warmth steadies my shaking hands. My daughterinlaw, Nina, sits opposite me, stirring her tea with a lazy spoon, a halfsmile playing on her lips. Something tightens inside me. I set the mug down carefully, trying not to let the tremor show.
Nina, I begin softly, Ive been on my own for five years now, and Im only fifty. I, too, deserve a bit of happiness, you know.
She laughs, a sharp, cutting sound that feels like a knife to my ears.
Yes, you can wish for it, of course, she replies, leaning back in her chair. But its hard for someone your age to find a partner now, and frankly, its not the right time.
Flushed with embarrassment, I feel my throat tighten. I rise, gathering the teacups, my fingers fumbling.
Teas finished, I say, dryly.
Nina shrugs, slips out of the kitchen without a goodbye, and disappears into her bedroom. Im left alone by the sink, staring out at the grey courtyard, unable to shake the sting of her words. They sit like splinters: am I truly unwanted? Has my time passed?
The next two days I move through the house like a ghost, avoiding conversation. Arthur, my son, keeps asking whats wrong, but I wave him off. I cant tell him that Im embarrassed to complain about his wife. I dont want to be the meddling motherinlaw who sows discord.
On the third day, a call from my old school friend Grace brightens me. She invites me over for tea, promising a change of scenery. I accept, hoping a fresh setting will lift my spirits.
Grace greets me with a warm hug and leads me to the kitchen. As we sit, I look into her familiar eyes and feel the world begin to crumble inside me.
Grace, I think my life has taken the wrong turn, I say, clasping a steaming mug with both hands. A year ago Arthur brought his wife home. The young couple are saving for a house. I try to be a good motherinlaw; our relationship is warm, even happy. Im pleased for my son, but I still crave love, to be loved and to love again. Yet my daughterinlaw tells me Im too old for new romances. Maybe shes right
Grace lays her hand over mine.
Olivia, shes not right, she says firmly. I was single at thirty after my divorce, gave my whole life to my children, and never thought of myself. They moved away, and I was left alone. I didnt know how to look for someone again. But you havent lost your chancetake action.
Her words ease a weight off my chest. She understands, she supports.
Then she pauses, thoughtful.
Listen, Olivia I have a cousin, Tom. Hes a decent man, fiftythree, divorced five years ago, with two grown children. Would you like me to introduce you? Meet somewhere, and let fate decide.
My heart jumps. The thought of saying yes scares me, but staying alone forever scares me more.
Lets try, I reply.
We arrange to meet at a small café in Brighton. I arrive a little early, nervously fiddling with the fabric of my dress. Soon a tall, silverhaired gentleman walks in. I recognise him instantlyhes Albert Whitaker, the man Grace mentioned.
He approaches, smiles, and says, Olivia? Its a pleasure. Grace has told me a lot about you.
We order coffee and begin to talk, awkward at first, with pauses and nervous chuckles. Gradually the conversation thaws. Albert shares his career as an engineer, mentions his two daughters who now live on their own, and how after his divorce he spent a year feeling lost, doubting that he could ever start over. I speak of my own griefmy husbands sudden death, the long, numb months that followed, and my lingering loneliness.
Both of us carry entire lives behind us, enough to keep any conversation alive. No pretence, no masksjust two tired but unbroken people ready to give themselves another chance.
When evening falls, Albert walks me to the bus stop, handing me a modest bunch of daisylike wildflowers bought from a stall.
Just a little something, he says, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
I hug the bouquet to my chest and smile broadly.
Thank you, theyre lovely.
At home Arthur greets me, whistling as he sees the flowers.
Mom, look at you! Youre practically glowing, he winks.
I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. It feels good that he isnt opposed, that hes happy for me.
Not much to say yet, I answer shyly, just enjoyed a nice evening with a good person.
Just then Nina steps into the kitchen, her gaze hardening as she looks at me.
So what now? Where will these dates lead? she asks sharply.
Im taken aback.
Nina, I told you its early to talk about that. Weve only just met.
She cuts in, Its not early. Do you realise he only sees you because of your flat? Why else would you bother?
Tears prick my eyes. How could she say that? Arthur jumps up, takes Ninas hand.
Nina, what nonsense? You dont even know the man! he protests.
She releases his hand, Im not accusing, Im just being realistic. There are so many golddiggers these days. Trust only family, Arthur.
I retreat to my bedroom, closing the door behind me, collapsing onto the bed. The bouquet lies on the nightstandinnocent, simple. Perhaps Nina has a point? Am I being naïve? Her words cut deep, especially spoken in front of my son, trying to turn him against me.
The weeks that follow are filled with more meetings with Albert. We walk in the park, watch films, linger over coffee, and talk endlessly. One afternoon he finally brings up the future.
Olivia, I dont want to rush things, but would you consider moving in with me? A twobedroom flat might be cramped, but I have a cottage where we could spend the summer. Im looking for something serious.
Warmth spreads through me. Ninas doubts seem distant now.
I head home, eager to tell Arthur about Alberts intentions, to prove that not all men are opportunists. Yet, as I turn the corner, I spot Nina chatting animatedly with a friend on a bench. Their voices rise.
I dont know what to do, Nina cries. Arthur wants a baby, but Im not ready. I used to rely on my motherinlaw for childcare while I worked. Now shes off chasing love Ive tried to ask her to stop, but she wont listen!
I slip away quietly, taking a different path around the house. My heart hardens; this isnt concern, its selfishness. Nina sees me as a free babysitter, not as a mother.
That evening, over dinner, I ask Arthur, How much more do you need for a deposit on a house?
He looks surprised. About £500000, Mum, but we wont ask you
Ive decided to use part of my savings to help you, I say. I want you both to have a home of your own.
Arthur jumps up, embraces me. Mum, thank you! This means everything.
Nina scowls, then turns to Arthur. Nina, thank Mum, will you?
I stare at Nina.
She wont thank me. I never wanted to be a freerange nanny. I chose to look after myself.
Arthur freezes. What?
I explain everythinghow Nina tried to use me as childcare and tried to sabotage my new relationship.
Arthurs face turns pale. He looks at Nina, eyes wide.
Is that true, Mum? he asks.
Nina stays silent, eyes on the floor.
Answer me! Arthur snaps.
She finally cries out, I was only trying to do whats best for ushaving someone to help with a child.
Leave, I say, voice steady. Pack your things and go. I dont want to see you again.
She shrieks, Youre crazy! Ill divorce you!
She starts sobbing, but Arthur does not waver. He gives her a moment to gather her belongings, then the door shuts behind her.
Arthur collapses onto a chair, covering his face with his hands. I sit beside him, holding him gently.
Sorry, Mum. I didnt see what she was like. Im sorry I didnt protect you.
Its all right, love. Everything will be alright
—
Three years later.
The cottage is drenched in summer green. The July sun beats down, but under the veranda the air stays cool. Im handing out salads, smiling, while Albert tends the barbecue. Arthur rocks threemonthold Max on his hip, his wife Iris setting the table. Alberts daughters, Kate and Lucy, coococare for their baby brother, cooing at every movement.
What a handsome little thing! Kate exclaims, tickling Maxs chin. Arthur, how did you get such a darling son?
Arthur laughs, All credit to Iris, not me!
Lucy joins in, making funny faces at the baby.
I watch the scene, my heart full. The large, noisy table, the laughter, the loveit feels like a perfect tapestry. I catch Arthurs eye; his smile is a mixture of gratitude, affection, and pure happiness.
I return his smile, knowing that, at last, everything has fallen into placefor both of us.
