It was you who robbed me of a family,” cried the niece as she turned away from the flat.
“Aunt Edith, do you ever regret not having children?” suddenly asked Margaret, setting down her half-finished cup of tea.
Edith Whitaker flinched at the unexpected question. Her niece had come to visit after a long absence, and they had been chatting pleasantly about work and the weatheruntil this.
“What a strange thought, dear,” Edith replied carefully, smoothing the lace doily on the table. “Life unfolds as it does. Not everyone must be a mother.”
“But doesnt it sadden you? Living alone…” Margaret studied her aunts face, as if tracing every wrinkle.
Edith gave an uneasy laugh. Outside, the October rain drizzled, while inside, the flat was warm and cosy. She always kept things tidy, especially when family visitedthough there was little family left now, just Margaret, her late brothers daughter.
“Why do you ask? Has something happened with Thomas?” Edith tried to steer the conversation away. Margaret had been seeing the young man for three years, and Edith had hoped for a wedding soon.
“We ended things,” Margaret said flatly, turning to the window. “A month ago.”
“Oh, love! Why didnt you tell me? I could have”
“Could have what?” Margaret spun around. “Pitied me? Offered sympathy? Said there were plenty more fish in the sea?”
Her voice carried a sharpness Edith had never heard before. Margaret had always been quiet, politefirst as a shy schoolgirl, then a diligent university student, and now a successful accountant at a respected firm. Edith had been so proud.
“Margaret, whats come over you? Youre not yourself today.”
“Not myself?” She stood, pacing the room. “What should I be? Smiling, pretending everythings fine? Acting as though Im thirty-two with no prospects, no life of my own?”
Edith watched helplessly as Margaret moved to the old bureau where family photographs stood. She picked up one of thema little girl beside a much younger Edith.
“I was seven when my parents died in that accident,” Margaret said softly, not turning. “Do you remember when I came to live with you?”
“Of course, dear. We got through it together.” Edith stood, wanting to reach for her, but Margaret stepped back.
“Got through it, yes. But I didnt understand then. I thought it was temporarythat my parents would come back, and Id live with them again.”
“Margaret, why bring this up now? We talked about it all at the time…”
“We never talked!” Margaret whirled around. “You decided for me! Decided Id live with you, that it was best!”
Edith felt the sting of those words. Had Margaret forgotten how hard it had been for her? Shed been just twenty-eight, her marriage crumbling, her career in shamblesand suddenly, a grieving child in her care.
“Margaret, I was young myself. I might have made mistakes, but I tried…”
“Tried!” Margaret laughed bitterly. “Do you know how you tried? You locked me away in this flat! No clubs, no hobbies, no friends!”
“Thats not true! You had friends at school…”
“What friends? You told me every daywhy bother with extra company? Why go out when home is safer? Why waste time on that drama club? Why throw money away on dance lessons?”
Edith sank into her chair. She remembered those years differentlyshed thought she was shielding the girl from bad influences, from reckless crowds.
“I wanted to protect you…”
“From what? From life? From people? From learning how to live?”
“Dont say that, dear. You grew up well. Youve an education…”
“Oh yes, an education! But I cant talk to people, cant flirt, cant be lighthearted! You made me just like youclosed-off, afraid of everything!”
The words struck harder than a slap. Edith had always thought herself cautious, sensiblenot cowardly.
“Margaret, I know youre upset about Thomas…”
“What does Thomas matter?” Margaret cried. “He was the fourth! The fourth man Ive failed with! And do you know why? Because I dont know how to be open! At the first sign of trouble, I retreatjust as you taught me!”
Edith said nothing. A lump rose in her throat.
“And do you know what he said when he left? ‘Youre like a ghost. You exist, but you dont live. Work, home, telly. No interests, no passions. You dont even want affectionjust to be left alone.'”
“Margaret!” Edith gasped. Such frankness always unsettled her.
“What’Margaret’? Does the truth make you squirm? Well, it makes me sick to live it!” She pressed her forehead to the cold windowpane. “All my friends are married, with children. And I sit alone at night, wonderingwhats wrong with me?”
“Nothings wrong, dear…”
“Yes, there is!” Margaret turned sharply. “And do you know what it is? Ive become you. Im repeating your life!”
“My life?”
“Yes! You were never truly happy, were you? Even married to Uncle Robert, you never spoke up! He did as he pleased, and you swallowed every word!”
Edith clenched her fists. The truth about her failed marriage burnedbut how could Margaret have understood? Shed been just a child.
“Dont judge what you dont know,” she whispered.
“Oh, I know! I lived here! I heard him shout, heard you cry at night! And when he left for that secretary of his, you didnt even fight!”
“What was there to fight for? If a man wants to go…”
“Exactly! You gave up! And you taught me the sameto yield, never to demand, never to fight!”
Margaret paced like a caged animal.
“And then I grew up and realisedIm just like you. Afraid of men, afraid of love, afraid of being left. And guess what? They do leave! Because Im dull company!”
“Margaret, listen…”
“No, you listen!” She stopped mid-room. “You stole my childhood! Stole my youth! Made me as miserable as yourself!”
“I gave you the best I could…”
“The best? This flat?” Margaret gestured around. “These faded wallpapers, these lace doilies, this graveyard silence?”
Edith stood, stung. The flat had always been her prideclean, comfortable, tastefully kept.
“This is my home. Our home.”
“Your home is a prison!” Margaret shouted. “A prison for lonely women!”
The words hit like a slap. Edith paled.
“How dare you?”
“I dare! Because Im done pretending! Done acting the grateful niece, raised out of charity!”
“Not charity! Youre family!”
“Family?” Margaret sneered. “Then why did you never ask what I wanted? Why decide everything for me?”
“You were a child…”
“I was a child at seven! What about at fourteen? Eighteen? Twenty-five? To you, I was always a child, never to be trusted with my own life!”
Tears pricked Ediths eyes. Had she been so wrong all these years? Had what she called care been control?
“I didnt mean to… I thought…”
“You thought? What did you think when you forbade me to see Daniel at university? Remember Daniel?”
Edith did. A tall, handsome lad whod come calling for Margaret. Hed seemed flighty, unreliable.
“He wasnt serious…”
“Not serious? He loved me! Proposed to me! And you said I was too young, that I must finish my studies first, find work…”
“I wanted you to stand on your own feet…”
“Stand? I still come to you for permission! Still ask your opinion on everything! How can I be independent if you never let me try?”
Edith sank back into her chair, dizzy with the weight of memory. She had always believed she knew best.
“Daniel married that same year,” Margaret said quietly. “Another girl. Theyve three children now. Sometimes I see him in town. He asks how I amand his eyes are full of pity.”
“Margaret…”
“Know whats worst?” She sat across from Edith. “Ive started seeing how I copy you, even in love. I cant speak my mind, cant say no when Im unhappy. I bend, just as youve always bent.”
“I only wanted to be good…”
“Good isnt happy!” Margaret burst into tears. “Im thirty-two, Aunt Edith! Thirty-two! And Im still a girl too afraid to live!”
Edith reached for her, but Margaret pulled away.
“Dont pity me. Just answer honestlydid you ever once consider what you were doing to me? That I might have my own mind, my own desires?”
Silence stretched. Outside, the rain still fell, and the room darkened, neither bothering with the lamp.
“I thought I was protecting you,” Edith whispered at last
