Dont Shout at My Mum
So useless, your father. Sleeps all day and spends the rest of his time playing silly games, came the voice of Margaret Evans from the kitchen.
David had just woken up after a late shift at the plant, standing in the hallway still half-asleep, trying to remember what day it was.
But, Gran, piped up William, his voice small and wounded, just the other week we built that model aeroplane together. Dad showed me how the propeller spins and everything.
David felt a sharp pinch in his chest. His boyonly sevenand already being taught to doubt his own dad.
Oh, sweetheart, anyone can glue some bits of plastic together, Margaret Evans interrupted again. But your mum and I, we truly adore you. Wed do anything for you, darling. Here, have some chocolate.
The crinkle of a wrapper, the sound of small feet padding across the linoleumWilliam rushed past David in the hallway, too distracted by the promise of chocolate to even spot his dad, dashing straight for his bedroom.
David stepped into the kitchen.
Margaret paused from wiping the worktops, her expression instantly transforming. A warm smile appeared, her caring granny mask dropping perfectly into place.
Oh, David! Youre up! Sleep well? I was just
What was that just now? asked David.
Sorry, what do you mean?
What you just said to my son.
Margaret gave a careless, light laugh and folded her tea towel into a perfect square. Honestly, you do take things to heart, David. It was only a jokejust a bit of fun and games. You know children need a bit of that.
She patted his shoulder as she swept out into the sitting rooma room shed more or less taken over three months ago.
You really should try to relax, David. You’re far too tense all the time. Its not good for you.
She left, and David realised hed made a huge mistake.
He leant against the kitchen table, staring at the spot where his son had just been, picturing him soaking up the idea that his dad was good-for-nothing.
Three months. Ninety-seven days since he agreed to let her move in. Ninety-seven days since Rachel had cried in the hallway and promised it would only be temporaryjust until her mum found a flat. Ninety-seven days watching this stranger slowly take apart everything hed worked to build in his own home.
Hed known it was a bad idea. His gut had practically screamed at him. But Rachels tears wore him down, and his mother-in-laws suitcases showed up before he could even finish saying, Well, all right then.
And nowhere he was: his son thinking hes useless, his mother-in-law beaming at him like nothing happened.
And deep down, David knew it would only get worse.
There was a mango sitting on the kitchen counter, all rosy and golden. David had picked it up for Williamlast week, William had tried tropical fruit at a friends birthday party, and now he was obsessed.
What on earth is this? Margaret asked, holding up the fruit between two fingers as if it were evidence in a murder trial.
Mango, David said, reaching for a knife.
Some foreign rubbish, she scoffed, dropping the fruit back down distastefully. You ought to have bought apples. Proper, British apples. I wont touch that awful exotic thing.
David put down the knife and turned to her. I didnt buy it for you. William likes mango.
Margarets face crumpled in an instant. Her chin trembled, hand clutching at her chest. So I dont matter to you at all, she whispered, her eyes welling up. You hate me. I always knew it. Im just unwanted, unloved, just waiting for the day
David stepped out before she finished. He just didnt have it in him for another performance, for more guilt trips meant to make him feel like a trespasser in his own house.
A month passed. Each day dragged on, heavier than the last.
That Saturday, David was lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, when the bedroom door burst open. Margaret stood there, wearing her dressing gown.
David, I need £350.”
David sat up slowly, thinking he misheard. Im sorrywhat?
For a private clinic. My backs troubling me and the waiting list on the NHS is three months at least. You can never get an MRI.
You get your pension, David said, already feeling heat rise in his chest. Youre not paying rent. Youre not paying for food or bills. Any personal costs should be covered by yourself.
Margarets nostrils flared. Personal costs? My health is a personal cost to you?
Your pensions higher than the average in this town. Its plenty for private treatment.
A real man looks after his family! she shouted now, mask slipping entirely. Its your duty! What sort of man are you, if you cant help your wifes own mother when shes suffering?
Suddenly, the truth slotted in perfectly for David: to her, he wasnt a person. He was a wallet. A resource to be squeezed dry.
Im not giving you any money, he snapped, at last losing his patience. Not £350, not £20, not a single penny. Find it elsewhere.
How dare you raise your voice to me!
Get out of my bedroom! he bellowed.
Rachel appeared in the doorway, her eyes darting between her husband and her mother.
Dont you dare shout at my mum! Rachels voice cracked through the air like a whip.
David stared at his wife, almost not believing what hed heard. Anger still thrummed in his head.
She barges into our bedroom and demands £350. You think thats all right?
Shes older than you! She has a heart condition! Her blood pressure! One more word and she could have a stroke from your shouting!
Then maybe she shouldnt barge into my room making demands, David said, getting out of bed. I let her into my flat. Shes living here for free. I pay for everything. Am I supposed to start handing her cash just because?
Your job is to provide for your family!
Rachel, you dont work! David couldnt help shouting. Im carrying everything myself, and now you want me to support your mum too?
Margaret pressed her hand dramatically to her forehead and swayed for effect.
To think this is what my lifes come to. My son-in-law despises me, wishes Id just drop dead
No one said that
I loved you like my own son! she wailed. Now Im just a burden. Maybe its better for everyone if I disappeared.
And in that moment, David realised hed finally had enough of all the scenes and guilt-tripping.
You know what? Thats it. Im done. I cant bear to see either of you in my flat anymore. Both of youpack up and leave.
Rachel went pale. You cant throw us out.
Oh, really? Need I remind you whose name is on the deed?
Im taking William with me.
David stepped close. Just try itIll fight tooth and nail for him and I wont let you take him.
Margarets theatrical sobbing stopped instantly. Rachel stood frozenDavid suspected shed never seen this side of him before.
They left that night. They packed their things hurriedly while William slept, oblivious to the world ending outside his door.
The divorce dragged on for four months. Rachel demanded full custody, telling the court all about Davids disturbing behaviour and the horrible atmosphere at home. Her solicitor painted David as a monster for throwing helpless old Margaret onto the street.
But David had all the facts on his side. Rachel had no income, no recent work history, no savings. She was living with her mum in a cramped bedsitbarely enough space for two, let alone three. She couldnt provide for William or give him security. Besides, William himself wanted to stay with his dad, no matter how his gran tried to play tricks. The court took it all into accountand Rachel didnt help her case when she caused a scene right outside the courtroom.
In the end, William stayed with David.
Half a year later, David arranged to start working from home. The room that used to be Margarets became a proper study. Now, he was always there when William came home from school. They did homework together at the kitchen table, and David cooked dinnernever fancy, but always with love.
These quiet, simple evenings together, building model planes or reading adventure stories before bedthose are the moments David cherished most. As for meeting someone new, he knew he still had time. After all, he was just getting started.
