Haunted by a Dream
Think about it, love! Just imaginewhat can your parents possibly give you? implored Margaret, her voice drifting like fog over the garden wall. A poky little flat, an old banger of a car, and not much else! But at Aunt Carolines, youd live like a prince. Your own room, all newly refurbished, an absolute beast of a gaming PC, a shiny new mountain bike anything you could hope for!
Oliver gazed at his grandmother with open pity, sure she didnt quite grasp the nonsense she was spouting. He stroked Margarets thin hand with gentle concern and murmured, Granny, youre not feeling ill, are you? The news says the NHS can fix almost anything these days. I could ask Mum to take you to the doctor? Youd feel better then, truly.
Margaret looked startled, brow arching in surprise at the turn.
Ollie, really, whatever makes you think Im poorly? I feel smashing, darling!
He knitted his brow. So why say such odd things? Why would I leave Mum and Dad to live with Aunt Caroline? Shes well, shes a bit odd, Granny. Honestly, I dont even like visiting.
Margaret leapt straight to her daughters defence, voice brimming with conviction, hoping to scatter Olivers doubts like startled sparrows.
Nonsense! Caroline is just terribly attentive and caring!
She made me eat porridge without sugar, Oliver replied, shuddering at the memory. And last summer, when it was sweltering, she forced me into a woolly jumper! Then made me have a nap after lunch, like I was a toddler. Granny, reallyshes peculiar! True frustration coloured his voice. He simply couldnt understand how such arbitrary rules were meant to make any sense.
Margaret wouldnt back down, fiercely believing in Carolines way.
Oats are full of goodness! she said, striving for authority. No sugar to keep your teeth safe. And the jumper! There was a chilly breezeyou might have caught a cold, and your parents dont always pay attention to these things! Margaret spoke with the certainty of an old matron convinced of her wisdom, immune to any challenge.
During a heatwave? Olivers scepticism was clear. Granny, Im twelve. Even doctors say overheating is dangerousyou can get sunstroke! And anyway, Id rather not discuss this. Aunt Caroline is just odd. Mums stopped picking up her callsshe knows shell have to sit through a long lecture about nothing, he rattled on, eager to finally say his piece and put this strangeness to rest. Dad wont even have her round anymore!
Margaret pressed her lips together, unwilling to admit defeat. There was a kernel of truth in Ollies words, buther daughter was right. She was sure of it! Caroline knew about raising children better than her flighty daughter-in-law, for certain. Carolines read hundreds of books about child psychology and upbringing! She really knows how to bring up a healthy, well-rounded child. Your Mumwell, she can be a bit careless, cant she?
Oliver tried to stay calm, though irritation burned inside. How could he make Granny understand?
He drew a deep breath and calmly intoned, Im doing brilliantly at school. I play sports. Im fit as a fiddle His eyes flickered to the door, hoping Mum would come back soon. The thought soothed him a little.
But Margaret jumped in before he could finish. Karate! Such a dangerous sport! How your mother allowed this, Ill never know! She was genuinely horrified. The first time she saw bruises on Oliver, she nearly had kittens, demanding he be pulled out of the class. Its irresponsible!
At that moment, Emily strode through the door, instantly registering the tension, and reaching out for her son.
Margaret, if you want to visit your grandson, kindly stop filling his head with nonsense! Im sick of it, said Emily, hugging her boy. One day its complaints to Social Services about us being unfit parents, then youre pestering Oliver with absurd ideas! She fixed her mother-in-law with a withering glare. And dont mention Caroline again, or do you think she cant be stopped?
Margaret blanched but composed herself, face arranged into wounded defiance.
I only care about the children! Caroline means well! Shes always dreamed of having children, and youyouve shattered her dream! The accusation hung in the air, though she tried for decorum. You still are!
Emilys eyes were unwavering. Let her adopt, if shes so desperatewith her money itll be no trouble. But if you keep interfering, youll lose your right to see your grandsons. Now goodbye, she said, ushering Oliver out, reassured to have the last word.
Imagine, shamelessly trying to tempt a child with gifts and an en-suite! And then saying we cant provide a decent future for our boys! Emily watched Margaret gathering her things, barely restraining herself from hurrying her out with a well-placed nudge. She unclenched her fists and calmed herselfno need to let Margarets words bite deeper than they ought.
Oliver, approaching his Mum, touched her hand gently and grinned. Even at his age, he well understood the shape of things.
Dont worry, Mum, he said, hugging her. Its just Aunt Caroline. Grannys trying to help her, thats all.
Emily ran a hand through his hair with a smile.
Alright, head to the kitchen. Ive bought a cake. Lets have tea.
He grinned wider and skipped over, cheered by the thought of pudding. Emily watched him go, her mind drifting back to the recent squabbles. She knew Margaret was just the vesselthe real trouble was Caroline.
Caroline was thirty-twocomfortable, thanks to a fortunate marriage. Whenever they met, shed let slip boasts about her latest holiday, or flash a look at Emilys simple skirt, making it clear that her world sparkled a bit brighter.
The one stain on her perfect existence: she couldnt have children. Her wild youth had left a mark; doctors told her there was no chance. Carolines husband had two sons from his previous marriage and seemed content. For Caroline, though, it was agony. The wound turned infectedshe set her mind to finding a solution, however implausible. And Oliver became her target: a substitute for the child shed never bear.
Things boiled over after Emilys second son arrived. Caroline lost all restraint, seriously suggesting she should be given the baby. Her insistence was terrifyingit wasnt a joke. Repeatedly, with mounting force, she pressed her claim.
Stan took the threat seriously, barring Caroline from their door. His resolve was plain: he would not risk his familys safety. Carolines husband intervened, and whatever words passed between them, the effect was clear: Caroline apologised to her brother and lay quietbut only for a short while
Weeks later, Caroline pounced with a new offer. Finding Emily at Margarets, she announced, Have a child for me. Ill make it worth your while! You could get out of this poky place. Her face, taut with longing, was utterly serious.
The idea of acting as a surrogate horrified Emily. She pictured the months, the fluttering inside her, only to hand her baby away. The thought disgusted her utterlyimpossible, unthinkable.
But refusing only fuelled Carolineshe started calling daily, offering ever fatter bundles of cash. She promised security, houses, opportunity anything. When the money didnt work, she haunted Stan and Emilys block, waiting by the door for hours. She didnt force her way inshe just waited there, like a scarecrow longing for something real.
It couldnt go on. Emily resolved to talk to Margaret, hoping shed intervene. She tried to keep her voice gentle, explaining the strangenessfrankly, even dangerof Carolines behaviour, urging that the woman needed professional help.
Margaret brushed it all asideTheres nothing wrong with Carolines request! Were family. Family stick together!
Her voice was so sure, as though this was the most ordinary matter in the world. The offer of another womans baby or hiring a surrogate was, to her, just a form of kinshipstrange, but honest.
Finally, tired and heartsick, Emily was forced to be frank.
I cant have any more children, she confessed, holding Margarets gaze. Its not about my wishes. The doctors warned even my second was risky. What youre asking could leave me crippled. Ill never do it. Explain that to your daughterlet her seek help elsewhere if she wants a surrogate. Leave us in peace.
She felt humiliated airing her intimate life to Margaret, who still struck her as barely family at all. But there was no other way.
Margarets brow arched, her face briefly shadowed by disappointment, before resettling into brisk practicality. Pity With you itd be simpler. Total control. With a strangerwell, not so much, is it? Oh well. Forget it then; get on with your life.
As if they were discussing curtains. The indifference infuriated Emily, but she swallowed her fury, left the flat without a word.
At home, she poured everything out to Stanno more shielding or softening the blows. Stan listened in silence, then promised firmly to sort it. He, too, knew they couldnt swallow this any longer.
Carolines campaign for surrogacy failed completely. After the talk with Emilyand, it seemed, with Stanshe gave up, for a while. But a new obsession took root: educating them on proper parenting. In her mind, having trawled through every manual and article, she was by far the most enlightened to raise children. Advice by the bucketfuldiscipline, diet, hobbies, even punishment. Every visit turned into a lecture, though nobody asked for it.
Four years later, Caroline became gripped by a fresh brilliant ideato woo Oliver away for herself. He was the perfect age: old enough to appreciate Aunties perks, yet still malleable to her better ways. She imagined pampering him, buying gadgets, crafting magical weekends until he adored her and never wanted to leave.
Reality was a shock. Oliver didnt just show no interesthe recoiled. Even fleeting visits felt like an ordeal in the sterile, perfect flat; the shiny toys didnt comfort him, and Carolines monologues about the joys of her world only made him crave home. Each time she suggested staying, he refusedhe had homework, friends, anything.
Seeing her efforts fail, Caroline conscripted her mother. Margaret undauntedly sang the praises of life at Aunt Carolines until she was hoarse. Oliver, unshaken, stood his ground: his home was with Mum and Dad.
So Caroline and Margaret escalatedwriting complaint after complaint to Social Services, painting Emily and Stan as unfit parents. Neglect, chaos, the wrong friends, poor discipline, even crueltyeach letter composed with as much care as a parliamentary bill.
All for naught. The social worker made her visits, took stocknothing matched the complaints. The house was tidy, the boys healthy and thriving. The reports fizzled out. But Caroline urged her mother onthey must fight to the last.
Emily endured months of anxietyany phone ring could be the next round, any knock Margaret with new schemes. She sometimes considered divorce, running away to escape these tightening netsbut when she looked at Stan, she knew she loved him too much to destroy their family.
One evening, after the boys had gone to bed, Stan approached quietly.
Hang in there. Ive spoken to my bossI can transfer to another office, in a different city. Hes approved it. In a months time, well leave, and no one will know where we are.
Emilys relief was tangled with worry. Caroline wont stop. She has the money to track us anywhere. How long before she finds out?
Stans hug was solid. Let her husband manage her. Ive spoken to some peoplehe wont want scandals in his circles. Thatll give us a breathing space.
Emily needed no details. It was enough to know Stan was guarding them as best he could. The faint flicker of hope returned: perhaps things would get better at last.
As moving day neared, Emily found herself silently saying goodbye to every lamp post, every lunch spot. The children, she knew, would struggleespecially Oliver. At twelve, friends, clubs, and routines mattered. He already had his world: mates, karate, kind teachers.
One evening, she sat beside Oliver on the sofa.
You do understand why we have to move, dont you?
He lifted his head, calm. Of course, Mum. Its tough, leaving my mates and karate, but if it means no more of Caroline and all those complaints, Im OK with it. Were a family. Thats what matters.
She held him tight, feeling the months of tension start to thaw.
The sale happened faster than expected, Margarets jabs about the dingy flat be damned. Buyers lined upnice neighbourhood, good layout. The paperwork was flawless. Finally, a new life shimmered on the horizon.
***********************
Good afternoon, Mrs Emily Lawrence, greeted the familiar social workera middle-aged woman with a neat bob and reserved kindness. She looked uncomfortable about intruding, but her job was her job.
Is it Margaret again? Emily sighed, waving her in. What is it this time? She set the kettle for coffee with the resignation of practice.
She visited yesterday, didnt she? the woman asked, following Emily to the kitchen and warming her hands around the mug.
Yestrying, yet again, to talk Oliver into living with Caroline. Unsurprisingly, he told her no.
Well, this morning, Margaret came into our office with a photo of Matthews forehead grazed. She claimed youd been violent.
Emily seethed quietly, but kept her tone level.
Well, we can sort that right now.
She fetched her laptop, found the video, and showed the evidence: little Matthew, wriggling away from Grandmas clutches, dashing past a chair, tumbling straight into the coffee table. Instead of consoling him, Margaret grabbed her phone and snapped pictures of his tears.
The social worker watched the footage, sighing as she handed the cup back.
Youve the patience of a saint, Mrs Lawrence. That mother-in-law of yours simply doesnt quit.
Emily closed the laptop. It was almost over. Were leaving in two days. Shell only see her grandsons in pictures now.
************************
The day Caroline found out her castles had crumbled, she stormed round her flat, hands balled into fists, muttering, It cant end this way! Ive got to talk to Stan and make him understand
She fumbled for her phone, only for her husband to enter at that moment, his calm voice brooking no argument.
Caroline, stop. Enough.
But you dont understand! I only want
I do understand. But if you keep this up, itll be the end for us. I mean it.
She froze.
You cant mean that?
I do, he replied, eyes never wavering. Word gets out and Ill be in trouble. You have to choose: peace, or
He left the threat unfinished, but the meaning rang through the air. Caroline sank, the anger oozing from her bones, replaced by something like exhaustion. Her husband never threatened idly.
Meanwhile, Margaret sat gazing at the world through her window. The same sequence of events replayed in her mindher insistence, her cheering-on of Caroline, her repeated interference.
Did I go too far? she wondered, picking at her tablecloth.
Passing the local playground, she lingered on the vision of laughing grandchildrenOliver, Matthew, their grins and chattering voices. Once she could knock on their door, share a dreary cup of supermarket tea, help with homework. Now it was only memory.
She kept their photograph on the shelf, studying it each morning, a pinch of grief pressing her heartthat from now on, theyd only ever smile from behind the glass.
