A Heart of Gold
Its late, and the house finally quietens. I tuck Charlie into bed, smoothing his hair, and creep out of his room on tiptoe. I glance at the clock: nearly midnight. Jack is still not home. Lately, hes made a habit of working late, or so he says. I find myself wondering if its truly the workload, or if theres someone else. I try to distract myself with a bit of tellymy favourite showbut before long, drowsiness overtakes me, and I drift off on the sofa.
I wake in the dead of night, cold and disoriented. The house is silent except for the hum of the fridge. Jack hasnt come back. My mind leaps to awful possibilitieswhat if somethings happened? What if hes been attacked, or theres been an accident? All sorts of gruesome thoughts tumble around my head, replacing any trace of sleepiness.
Frantically, I start hunting for my phone. I cant find it. Im about to cry when suddenly, a message alert pings from somewhere on my dressing gown pocket. With trembling hands, I snatch it out and see Jacks name. I tap the screen, and in the next moment, my phone slips from my grip as my knees give way. I crumple to the floor in silent tears.
No, I whisper. He cant have done this. Not to us. Not like this. Please, no.
The phone lies beside me, and I barely notice when Charlie shuffles into the lounge, clutching his teddy bear.
Mummy? Whats a divorce?
His voice jolts me like an electric shock. I blink at him, my heart breaking all over again. He holds my phone in his small hands, peering curiously at the screen though he cant quite read.
How many times have I told you not to play with my things? I snap, more harshly than I mean to.
He pouts. But youre not a stranger, and your phones not a strangers phone! So whats a divorce? I heard Daddy say on the phone hes getting a divorce.
I swallow hard. A divorce… Well, darling, Daddy wont be living with us anymore. Hes moving in with someone else. But he still loves you, and hell come to see you, I promise.
I try to comfort Charlie, though my own body shakes with cold and disbelief. I tuck him back in, curling beside him, unable to sleep. How did this happen to us? Just the other day, we felt like any normal familyoccasional disagreements, yes, but love and laughter too. How did I not see someone else coming? Did Jack become a master at hiding things, or was I simply blind? How am I meant to carry on, raise Charlie all on my own? Will I cope, with no one else to lean on? Lost in such thoughts, I finally drift off, only to be startled awake by the doorbell.
Suddenly hopeful, I whisper, It must be Jackmaybe last night was just some terrible joke. Sleep still clouds my mind as I shuffle to the door, but it isnt Jack. Instead, there stands a young woman, skirt barely covering her, a see-through blouse leaving little to the imagination. She gives me a once-over, smirking with a sort of smug triumph. My own appearance is a shamblesdressing gown over pyjamas, hair wild as a birds nest.
Can I help you? I ask icily.
Im here for Jacks things.
I see. Right, just give me a moment.
Youre not even going to have a go at me? she teases.
Whats the point? I sigh. Jacks made his choice. Im not fighting for him.
Her eyes flicker around my hallway as if daydreaming about living here, but I nip that in the bud. This is my flat. Jack has no claim to it. Now, heres his suitcase, and Id thank you never to come back.
When the door shuts behind her, tears come in fresh wavesthis time from sheer despair. Theres nothing left to do except dust myself off and get practical. If Jacks gone, I need a job. But first, Charlie will need a nursery place. While he eats breakfast, I make myself a bitter coffee and dig out the old biscuit tin on the top shelf where, for years, Ive squirreled away a modest sumjust in case. Mum always told me, save for a rainy day and sure as not, itll find you. She wasnt wrong. I calculate: maybe two, three months max if Im careful.
As Charlie colours in his workbook, I throw together a dull CV. Not much to writegraduated from uni with top marks as a sales manager, but married straight after, and Jack never wanted me working. No need, hed said. Well, that didnt last, did it? Now, unemployed, little work experience, and nowhere to leave Charlie. I still trysending applications as best I can, then listlessly starting lunch, my head thudding with worry. The doorbell goes again.
Mrs. Wilkinshello, I say, surprised to see Jacks mother in my hallway. Jacks not here. He doesnt live here anymore.
She nods. I know, dear. Thats why Ive come. I always thought you two would sort things on your own but now, well. I wont defend Jack. Hes behaved dreadfully, though he grew up without a father and should know better. Anywaylisten, Ive brought this.
She nudges an envelope of cash towards me on the kitchen table.
Dont turn it down. Its not for youits for my grandson. I know things must be desperate now, and youve got no one to leave him with. Itll help cover the basics and a childminder until Charlies in nursery.
Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins, but I
Sssh, dear. Pride wont put food on the table. Later youll be self-sufficient. I went through divorce myself, you see. The Lord alone knows what that was like. But I never thought Jack would behave just like his father
How did you find out so soon? I ask. Youre clear across town.
Her face twists. Oh, he brought that woman to my housetold me theyll be moving in! I wont let it stand.
I make her tea, put out some biscuits and fruit, and for the first time since yesterday, I dont feel alone. Mrs. Wilkinss presence makes me feel steadier, somehow less adrift.
Go get your hair done, love, she tells me, and a manicure. Youll need it for job interviews. These days, bosses look at appearances first. You pop out nowIll cook something and play with Charlie.
After two hours at the salon, for the first time in days, I barely recognise myself in the mirror: confident, neat, young again.
Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins. I dont know where Id be without you.
Its nothing, darling. After all, you and Charlie are family. And may I pop by from time to time to see my grandson?
Of course. Youre always welcome. Justplease, I dont want to see Jack here again.
She nods. I understand. Rare is the woman who could forgive.
Months pass. I find part-time work, Charlie settles at nursery, and life regains some order. On my way to see a new client, I spot Mrs. Wilkins sitting on a bench in the underpass. As I approach, she turns and starts to cry. Instinctively, I sit beside her and put my arms around her.
That woman talked Jack into throwing me out, she manages between sobs.
What? I gasp.
Said I should choose between an old peoples home or the streets. Left me with nothing.
Mrs. Wilkins, Im on my way to an appointment. Here are my keysjust go to my place. Take a bath, help yourself to food. Theres soup, some homemade pies, plenty of fruit.
Inside, Im seething. Its bad enough he left me, but to evict his own mother? Absolutely unforgivable. Shaking with anger, I arrive at my client meeting, fearful Im late. I enter the restaurant and am shown to a table with a dignified, kind-eyed man named Mr. Harris.
Sorry I kept you waiting, I say.
He smiles. Thats all right, my colleague is running late too. Coffee?
Yes, please.
Were just sipping coffee when Jack strides in, papers in hand. He sees me and looks as if hes seen a ghost.
What are you doing here? Planning to report me for not paying child support?
Im here for work, Jack. And you ought to be ashamed, kicking your own mother out for a woman you barely know.
Mind your own business! he snaps, forgetting his surroundings and the presence of his boss.
Mr. Harris rises. Jack, youre fired. Leave the documents and go.
ButMr. Harris
Out. Now.
After Jack goes, Mr. Harris turns gently to me. I had no idea he was like that. Is your salary competitive? Are things difficult on your own? If you like, I can offer you a better job at my firm.
Thank you, but Ill manage. Lets get back to the paperwork.
Contract signed, Mr. Harris insists on giving me a lift home.
Pardon me for asking, but is it trueyour ex-husband really threw his own mother out?
Yes. I found her in the underpass on my way here. Shes at mine now. Shes wonderful and loves Charlie dearly. Shell always have a home with us. As for JackGod will judge him.
All day, Mr. Harris cant stop thinking about me. Hed long ago decided women were all opportunists, after his own divorce. But Im nothing like thatI look out for those whove hurt me, expect nothing, and still let Jacks mother live with us.
The following weekend, with Mrs. Wilkins and Charlie, I pack our bags to spend a couple of nights in a countryside hotelby a bubbling stream, surrounded by hills. Its been ages since Ive breathed such fresh air, away from everything. As we wait for our taxi, Jackin a drunken statestaggers up.
Ill ruin you! Youll be left with nothingon the streets, homeless. Just you wait!
Is that a threat? You kicked out your own mother, Jack. Id expect nothing better.
I usher Mrs. Wilkins and Charlie into the taxi, and away we go. We return home tanned, rested, smilingonly to discover chaos. The smell hits us firstpetrol. In our absence, Jack, with his spare key, sneaked in and set fire to our flat. Now we truly have nowhere to live. I wont file a report on himnot because Im a pushover, but Mrs. Wilkins is so important to us. But she takes matters into her own hands; she leaves Charlie and me with the neighbour and heads off to the police, then to a solicitor. Within a day, shes arranged for us all to move into her old flatJack and his new girlfriend nowhere in sight.
What if Jack comes back? I ask.
He wont for a long time. The police know what he did, and the flat is now in your nameI signed it over to you, she says.
But why, Mrs. Wilkins? Its your home
You took me in when my son tossed me out, when you could easily have turned me away. I owe you everything. All mother-in-laws should have daughters-in-law like you.
Dont say thatthere are no debts between family. And Im no saint You, Mrs. Wilkins, truly have a heart of gold. Youve done so much for us, with no obligation at all.
Oh, darling, she replies, Ive forgiven much in my lifeeven Jack for pushing me out. But arson I will never forgive him for that. It wasnt just you he left homelessit was his own son.
Later, as we gather for tea, Mr. Harris drops by unexpectedly.
Good evening. Sorry to barge in. I heard about the fire, but when I went to check, you werent there. I tracked down your new address.
Do come inhave a seat, I say.
What happened?
Oh, its a long story. Id rather not dwell on it.
Quite right. Lets focus on the good. Mrs. Wilkins, shall we take Charlie out for a walk? Im sure you two have plenty to talk about.
With an amused twinkle, Mrs. Wilkins sweeps Charlie off, leaving me and Mr. Harris at the table. I blush; he grins.
Your mother-in-law is something special, he says gently.
Shes like a mother to me, I reply softly.
Natalie, he says, suddenly earnest, I wont beat around the bush. Ive never met anyone like you. Will you marry me?
So soon? I laugh in surprise.
He smiles. Its as though Ive waited for you all my life.
Now, I live in a beautiful home outside London, in a house filled with laughter and the certainty that I am loved. Theres no fear of betrayal; both Victor and I have known heartbreak, and now cherish the peace real family brings. Mrs. Wilkins shares our life, grateful in her old age not to be alone. As for me and Victor, we simply couldn’t have acted any differentlyour consciences, and our hearts of gold, would never allow it.
