“I have nowhere to go!”
“I wont go back to that mutt! Id rather live in a basement than with him!”
“Mum, well then, off to basement you go! Ill be divorcing you myself soon!” snapped Lily, stirring her porridge with a scowl.
“Chasing away your own mother?!” Margaret clutched her chest. “Ive given my whole life for you, and this is what I get? Thanks ever so much for your care, darling!”
With a huff, Margaret stormed off to their shared roombecause the four of them were crammed into a one-bed flat, where privacy had been a distant memory for months.
Lily never imagined shed be caught in such a mess. People divorced and remarried all the time, but her parents had always been the picture of stability. Just last year, Margaret and Nigel had celebrated their ruby anniversaryforty years togetherand now her mother couldnt stand the sight of him.
One awful morning, Margaret turned up on Lilys doorstep with suitcases, declaring she was leaving Nigel.
“Would you believe it?! He cheated on me with some floozy of a nurse!” Margaret gasped, still breathless from the climb up the stairs. “Fancy thata man his age chasing after forty-something girls! What a bloody Romeo!”
“Mum, seriously? Are you sure? Maybe you got it wrong?” Lily stared at her, baffled.
Margaret had always been dramatic, prone to spinning wild tales from the tiniest rumour. But this time, unfortunately, she wasnt exaggerating.
“Oh yes, I got it wrong. The photos on his phone just magically appeared, did they? Hes an old codger, he should know betterbut no!”
Lily decided to deal with it later. First, she had to calm her mother down. She sat her with a cuppa, soothing her, saying even if it was true, life wasnt over, it happened to loads of people, shed help her through it.
Little did Lily know her mother would take that literally. She had no idea what she was signing up for.
From that moment, Margaret moved in. It wouldnt have been so bad if Lily didnt already have a familyher husband, George, and their five-year-old son, Alfie. The age when curiosity knows no bounds and small hands get into everything.
At first, Lily tried to see the bright sidemaybe her mother could help with Alfie? But she worked from home and managed fine. Cooking? Margaret loved greasy meals Lily avoided for her figure, and George couldnt eat them for health reasons. Cleaning? Their standards of “clean” were worlds apart.
And that was only half the trouble.
“Right, you lot need to change the bedsheets. Alfies toodo his in the morning,” Margaret announced at eleven at night, just as they were settling in for a film.
“What, now? Mum, Alfies asleep! How are we meant to do that in the dark?!”
“Not to worry. The hallway lights enough. Change them quietly, then off to bed. Shouldve done it in the day, but no, you lot dither. Useless without me! Dust mitesll be running the place soon!”
Margaret would plant her hands on her hips, scanning the room for more chores to pile on them.
Lily sighed but did as asked. She was used to her mothers quirks and knew arguing meant hours of griping. Margaret never backed downconfrontation was her middle name. Lily, in contrast, had grown up bending to keep the peace.
George didnt share this obsession with order.
“Love, cant you just say no?” he whispered when they were alone.
“Well its Mum. You know how she is,” Lily mumbled.
“I do. But this is our home, our rules. Im knackered, love. Shes wearing me out.”
“Just hang on a bit longer. She and Dad need time. Itll sort itself”
But Lily didnt sound convinced. Shed already spoken to her father. Hed admitted ityes, thered been a fling.
“Dont know what came over me. Maybe I wanted to compare. Your mothers the only one Ive ever known. Now I dont know where to put myself. I love her, your mum, but will she even listen?”
Honestly, Lily understood her mother. She wouldnt forgive cheating eithereven if it was just a fling. Margaret had every right to leave. But she wasnt doing anything. Just waiting, as if the problem would vanish on its own.
Things got worse. Margaret decided George was too comfortable.
In her parents marriage, chores were split. Nigel vacuumed, scrubbed the loo every Sunday, even made the odd bangers and mash. He helped with deep cleaning, window polishing, market runsjobs most blokes wouldnt touch.
In Lilys house? George helped with Alfies schoolwork or took him swimming, but the rest fell to her. Fair enoughhe was the main breadwinner, now supporting her mother too. Lily worked remotely a few hours a day, her wages mostly funding little luxuries.
Margaret didnt see it that way.
“Youve let him off too easy, love!” she nagged. “Make him pull his weight evenings, not just laze about. Men stray when theyve too much idle timemark my words!”
“Mum, thanks, but well sort it ourselves.”
Margaret wasnt listening. She set about “reforming” George.
“Sit,” shed command when Lily rose to clear the table. “George, shes been run ragged all daywont ask for help, though. Be a dear and wash up.”
George would glare but obey. His patience wasnt endless. Soon, rows eruptedhushed when Margaret wasnt around, but tension simmered.
He was right. Lily knew it. But what could she do?
“Mum, you cant carry on like this. Whats the plan?” she asked after two months.
“Dunno. Ill figure it out. Got nowhere else,” Margaret muttered, sensing where this was going.
“Course you do! Yours and Dads flats half yours. Split it, move on. Youve got to decide.”
“Dont want a thing from him!” Margaret snapped, arms crossed. “Ill manage. Wont speak to him.”
“Managing” fell to Lily and George. And they were exhausted. Lily hinted they missed their evenings alone, that the flat was too smallno use. She tried bluntnessMargaret hated that.
Finally, Lily snapped. She found her mother a bedsit, packed her bags while she showered.
“Whats this? You going somewhere?” Margaret asked, towel-drying her hair.
“No, you are. Weve rented you a place. We cant live on top of each other forever.”
Margaret shrieked, accused them of throwing her out, but they stood firm. Sat her down, explained theyd help with rent for two monthsno more.
“Dyou want us splitting up too? Wherell we all scatter to then?” George pressed.
Margaret relented. But the peace didnt last.
“What hovel have you dumped me in?!” she screeched down the phone after one night. “Cockroaches like a marching band, neighbours couldnt care less! The kitchens filthd put you off your tea, and the loodont get me started!”
“Mum, we did what we could. Youre free to rent somewhere else,” Lily said patiently.
But Margaret couldnt afford the places she liked. Slowly, her tune changed. She muttered about solicitors, paperwork. Then one day
“Thats it. Im home. Back where I belong,” she announced, as if it were Lilys fault.
“Really? What about Dad?”
“Still cant stand him,” Margaret sniffed. “But better my own room than that dump. Someone nicked my purse while I was at the shops! Ill put up with your fathers face. At least my flats just meno whiskery freeloaders.”
Lilys shoulders relaxed. She didnt know if theyd reconcile or divorcedidnt matter. Let them battle it out in their own home, not hers.
At last, her flat was hers again.
