A Family Heirloom
– No! Please, Mum, dont try to talk me out of this! Im doing it no matter what!
– Mary, why on earth? Tell me, love, why do you want this?
– Because he walks into the rehearsal room a whole minute before I do! Because I cant look at myself in the mirror! Because Ill never have a proper life, Mum! No husband, no childrennothing! Oh, Mum, cant you understand?! I burst into tears and hurled my hairbrush at poor Thomas, who was dozing on the armchair.
The cushion he was busy tearing with his claws, half-listening to our row from above, was one Id embroidered myself. It was meant as a present for Grandma, but thanks to the great family argument that split us all, it never found its rightful owner. The velvet, stitched with delicate roses, now belonged to me, and occasionally fell victim to Thomass wild feline attackshe must be part of the family in antics if nothing else.
Thomas arrived in our lives thanks to me, and I still felt a duty to bring up this uncooperative creature Id once rescued from the neighbours boys. They nearly tormented the poor animal to deathno owner, no one to defend him, theyd decided. They paid no heed to my polite, slightly quivering inquiry as to what on earth they were doing.
They underestimated me. They thought a girl with a music folder would be all delicate and meekjust the sort Mum always wanted. But Dad always hoped Id be a bit more sturdy. So now Im the proud owner of a black karate belt, with a proper muddle of trophies on my shelf, all of which absolutely infuriate me every time I clean my room. I detest tidying, and the dust that constantly appears on my achievements fills me with existential despair. But Mum will not let me tuck the trophies awayshe says theyre good for my confidence.
Those trophies did come in handy: I gave those boys what for, and they skulked away to tend their wounded pride. That day, I became the accidental guardian of a shivering, patchy kitten with a rather sorry excuse for a tail. The tail fluffed out impressively soon enough, and the kitten grew into a brazen cat, certain that I belonged to himand therefore, nothing required much worry. He lived as he pleased, rewarding my care with the occasional opportunity to scratch his luxurious neck.
The day Thomas was officially part of the family, I came back from the Royal Academy of Music feeling hopeless. I was struggling to prepare for a big competition, and for some reason, whenever Henrymy long-time friend from both my old school and music collegecame into the rehearsal space, my fingers froze up and simply refused to cooperate.
Henry, who I had known as long as I could remember, suddenly became enigmatic, unfamiliareven a bit intimidating after our summer apart. When he slung his arm around my shoulders as usual, telling some funny story to our classmates, I found myself standing there completely still, overwhelmed with a happiness so sharp it nearly hurt. At any other time, Id have wriggled free and probably smacked him round the back of the head for good measure, but now? Now I only wanted to stand there, feeling his warm palm on my shoulder, until time stopped.
Of course, as soon as Henry dashed into the classroom, rustling his music sheets and declaring his grand return, I scolded myself furiously. Silly girl! What nonsense is this now?
But the strange, sparkling feeling would not leave. I found myself gazing at his mess of curls until he glanced over, whereupon Id promptly drop my eyes, cheeks burning.
It was agony and joy all at once. Part of me desperately wanted to confess my feelingsbut the very thought paralysed me. How could I ever open my mouth about this? My fingers might as well have turned to ice.
I suffered silently.
Talking to someone about it was impossible. Mum would never understandor at least it felt that way. Telling her about my first love was unthinkable.
Mum and I have a complicated relationship. We loved each other fiercely but were stubborneach well aware that tact is sometimes the only line between love and argument. When things went too far, the house fell silent. No shouting, no crashing dishes, just a quietly closed dooreither mine or Mumsand a cold hush descending.
– Cultured destruction. Thats what Grandma called it, before all the arguments, and then shed add, Utterly foolish!
I agreed, but couldnt seem to escape the pattern. Still, Id usually be the first to break the silence, patching up our fragile peace.
I knew Mum loved me more than anythingmaybe too fiercely. For Mum, there was nothing more precious than her daughter. Shed do anything to protect me. Even if it meant keeping me under a glass dome forever, out of harms way.
So besides home, music school, and the occasional family holiday, I didnt know much else. Id never been to camp or had much to do with classmates beyond term-time. My friends were just Mums friends childrenhandpicked, approved, and utterly alien to me. I didnt click with them at all. It wasnt that I was difficultthey simply didnt suit: Lara was always teasing me with nasty nicknames, while Simon proved an unrepentant little monster, beheading my favourite teddy bear upon introduction, announcing, Deserved it, didn’t he? To this day, I still have no idea why.
– Oh, if only the children had got on! Theyd have made a lovely couple!
Simons mother would sigh sadly, trying to console me, but I knew her words were hollow.
– Albina, dont break the childs spirit! Let her make her own choices! If you take that away, shell never feel whole!
My grandmothers voice echoed from distant memory.
– Margaret, please! Shes still a child! She cant make choices yet. Its my responsibilityso Ill decide!
– Just make sure you dont turn her into property.
The conversation stuck in my mind. Whenever Mum became controlling, Id retort: Mum, Im not your property!
Exasperated, shed snap, Stop repeating what others say! Learn to think for yourself!
And I do! Id reply indignantly, and another silence would descend.
After the Big Row, I hardly saw Grandma again. No one was blameless. Shed thrown harsh words at Mum, and Mums temper tantrums while pregnant with my sibling had pushed Dad and me to the edge. Heartbreakingly, the baby was lost, and our family splintered even further. Grandma, in her bluntness, told Mum how it was, departing by ambulance afterwards with a blood pressure crisis. Mum never forgave her.
Dad tried to make peace at first, but battling two stubborn women proved impossible, so he stepped back, hoping things would cool off. They didnt, and I missed Grandma desperately. But I couldnt cross Mum. She clung to me as if I were her lifeline. Once, I plucked up the courage to ask Mum why they hadnt tried again for another child, since shed wanted a son so badly. She gave me a look that made it clear I was never to broach the subject again.
Grandma was the one person I could have told my secret to, but she moved away to Brighton to make things easier for everyone. Dad visits her twice a yearMum doesnt object, but shell never let me go, muttering, I dont want you turned against me.
So I kept Grandmas photo hidden in my favourite book. When Mum wasnt looking, Id sneak it out and admire it.
The photographers art amazed meGrandma looked so regal. At the same time, it made me aware of the one inherited family jewel that haunted meinstead of feeling pride, Id look in the mirror and cry.
My nose. The family nose. Magnificent! theyd call it.
Of all the descriptions, prominent was the only word that resonated. To me, nothing else about my appearance was praiseworthy.
Once, Lara (whom Id not seen in years and hoped never to see again) exclaimed, Wow, its enormous! Sorry, but its so funny! Pinocchio in the flesh! Doesnt it get in the way when you snog? Ohwaityou havent, have you? Never had a boyfriend at your age? Thats grim!
How I didnt smack her Ill never know. She had no right to say such thingsshe was no friend, just a distant acquaintance. She and her parents had lived in Spain for ages, only occasionally visiting. Mum conjured this reunion out of nowhere, despite my protests.
– Darling, youve not seen each other in so long!
– And Im happy to keep it that way, Mum. Why?
– Because you must! No silly questions, please. Youll thank me later!
I did thank hermentally, and not in very polite terms. But that conversation with Lara forced me towards my first truly grown-up decision.
– Im having cosmetic surgery.
– No! Mum stared in horror as I squared my jaw. I wont allow it! Why
– Dont bother, Mum. Dad agrees, and Ive made up my mind.
– You wouldnt dare – her whisper barely reached my ears.
The row ended in floods of tears, Mum barricading herself in her room. She spent the evening pacing, desperately seeking an answer.
She found it near midnight, clear and simple. She came rushing to Dad, demanding Grandmas number.
The next day, I was on a flight to Brighton. Mum drove me to the airport. At the gate, she hugged me tightly and whispered, We all do silly things, my darling. Sometimes we lose so much where we could have gained. Dont make my mistakes! Remember, Im waiting for you and Ill always love you, more than life itselfeven if it doesnt seem that way sometimes.
I could only nod and, choking back tears, boarded the plane. Being with Grandma mattered most now.
Grandma welcomed me with so much warmth that we could only manage full sentences after two days of talking in exclamations and tears.
– Mary, what made your mother see sense at last?
– Maybe because I want to chop off my nose.
– Why? You look lovelya bit of makeup, perhaps, but nothing more!
– Oh, Grandma! You too? I look like Pinocchio!
– Nonsense! Who told you such rubbish?
I bit my lip, thinking of Laraeffortlessly perfect, with boys queuing in droves.
– If someone jeers about your appearance, my dear, theyre not worth your time. Theres no such thing as perfect, especially for women! If you ever find one totally content with her own looks, Guinness World Records can close shop.
– Perhaps I should applyfor Most Notable Nose! Id win for sure!
– One moment! Grandma tottered off, returning with a thick velvet photo album. – Here we are!
– Whats this?
– The ones in our family whose prominent jewel didnt stop them from being happy. Your ancestors! Some photos are lost, but these are the women who endured, loved, gave birth, saw grandchildrenall with our noses. Not one lacked for love.
She retrieved a carved jewellery box.
– Take this, Mary. Its from your great-aunt Fay. She divided her treasures between us all. Each of us has a keepsake.
The earrings were so beautiful my breath caught. My hands trembled like they did with Henry.
– Crafted by my uncle, your great-great uncle really, but lets keep things simple. He was a talented jeweller. Saw beauty where none was obvious.
– Are those lilies? I marvelled at the tiny stones.
– They are. He made them for his wife, Lily. She passed them down the line, and now, theyre yours.
– It really is a family heirloom!
– Just like your nose, my girl! Now, imagine if I melted down this treasure to make something modern and soullesswouldnt that be a shame?
I clenched my fist, hugging the earrings.
– That would be wrong.
– Then dont insult God by telling Him something about you is unworthy. Everything you have is just as it should be. Nowtell me about this boy. Whats he like?
– Grandma! How did you?!
– Oh please! Wasnt I young once as well?
Our conversation ran late into the night. I poured out everythingmy fears, my dreams, Henry. Grandma listened, really listened. For the first time, my heart felt light. I could breathe, and prepare for my competition without that suffocating fear. At last, I had someone I could tell my secrets to.
The next morning, Grandma was packing her suitcase.
– Where are you off to?
– Time to put things right. I made many mistakeschief among them, letting our family fall apart. I need to see your mother.
She was so determined I knew not to argue. I helped her pack and called a cab to the station.
Later, sitting in my room with Thomas purring on my lap, I could hear faint voices from the kitchen. I wanted more than anything to join them, hold Mums hand, and ask if peace was finally possible. But I knew I mustnt push. Peace is delicateeasier broken than made. Mending takes longer; its a jewellers craft.
A year later, Mum, heavily pregnant, would rise with effort as the makeup artist finished my hair, fasten a lily earring made by my ancestor, settle the veil on my head and ask:
– Well then, ready?
– Almost! Just a dab of powder on the family jewel! Standing before the mirror, Id catch my own eye and remember when I first nervously asked Henry if he minded how I looked.
– Absolutely perfect, Mary! Why would you ask?
His honest puzzlement made me want to cry from happiness.
So I smile, eyes shining, and wind my arms around my new husband, the wild-haired musician whos just won an international competition.
– Just because, love. Just becauseAs the laughter echoed down the hallway and the first notes of music spilled in from the garden where Henrys friends were tuning up, Mum pressed a kiss onto my foreheadher arms lingering, holding a bit tighter than needed. Grandma, grinning through tears of pride, clipped a sprig of lavender into my bouquet for luck, her wrinkled fingers steady as ever.
That old tension had become gentler with time, edges softened by forgiveness. In the family crowdno longer dividedI saw so many strong noses, so many faces like mine, gathered for this imperfect, glorious day. There was peace at last, quiet as a blessing but shining sturdier than any diamond.
Standing just inside the doorway, I looked at the man who waited for me. Henry, hands clasped, eyes searching for mine, gave the kind of smile Id waited my whole life to receivethe one that says, Youre exactly enough, just as you are. For a moment, my pastinsecure and battle-wornseemed tiny and distant, swept away as if by a sea breeze from Brighton.
And as I walked towards him, family heirloomsearrings, nose, wild heart and allI realized the greatest treasure wasnt gold or jewels, but this: loving freely, accepting the gifts handed down through generations, and daring to claim my place in the beautiful, stubborn, imperfect line of women who came before me.
When Henry took my hand, my mother reached for my other, and together we stepped out into the sunlightready, at last, to begin.
