Driven by Dreams
Just say yes, love! Think about itwhat do your parents offer you, really? coaxed Margaret, her voice full of earnest conviction as she pressed her grandson, Alex. A modest little flat, an old car thats seen better days, and precious little in the way of prospects. But with Joanna, youd live like royalty! Your very own roomfreshly redecoratedan ultra-fast gaming computer, the newest bicycle… absolutely anything your heart desires!
Alex gazed at his gran, his eyes full of gentle concern. He truly believed she didnt realise what she was saying. Stroking Margarets hand, he asked softly, Gran, are you feeling alright? You know, the telly says the doctors can cure just about anything these days. I can ask Mum to take you to the GP if youd like? It might set your mind at ease, yeah?
Margaret looked taken aback, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the unexpected turn in conversation.
Alex, dear, whatever makes you think Im unwell? I feel perfectly fine!
He frowned. But why are you saying all these odd things then? Why would I just up and leave Mum and Dad to go live with Auntie Joanna? Shes… well, she is a bit strange, you know. I dont even like visiting her.
Margaret, ever quick to defend her daughter, straightened up and replied with fervour, Nothing of the sort! Joannas just thoughtfulthats all. She cares so much!
She made me eat that disgusting porridge with no sugar, Alex protested, pulling a face. And she put me in a jumper last summer when it was boiling! And then, sending me for a nap after lunch, like Im still little! Honestly, Gran, shes a bit much. He sounded genuinely baffled why someone would invent so many strange rules and then insist he follow them.
Margaret was not about to capitulate. She was doggedly certain her daughter knew best.
Oats are packed with goodness! she argued, trying to sound as persuasive as possible. Joanna made it sugarless so your teeth would stay healthy. And the jumper… there was a cool breeze! You could have caught a chill, and, well, your parents are rather careless about these things. She spoke with a confidence that brooked no debateshe was sure she was right, and anyone who doubted her was simply mistaken.
In thirty-degree heat? Alex scoffed, clearly unconvinced. Gran, Im twelve! Even doctors say you can get heatstroke if you overdress. Anyway, lets drop it. Auntie Joanna really is unusual. Mum doesnt answer her calls anymoreshe knows itll only mean a long lecture about nothing. He sped through his words, anxious to get it all off his chest and put this unpleasant subject behind him. Even Dad has started refusing to let her in the house.
Margaret pressed her lips together stubbornly. There may have been a glimmer of sense in her grandsons words, but…her daughter was still right! She was convinced Joanna was far better qualified to raise a boy than Alexs flighty mother.
Joanna has read hundreds of books on child psychology and upbringing! she insisted, her voice a little more insistent than shed intended. She knows exactly how to raise a healthy, well-rounded child! As for your mother… lets just say, she doesnt make much of an effort on that front!
Alex did his best to stay calm, but inside he was seething. He was tired of this conversation! How could he possibly explain to Gran that she was wrong? Exhaling sharply, he tried to keep his tone steady, I get top marks at school. Im in sports, fit as a fiddle…his eyes drifted to the door, hoping Mum would walk in any moment. The thought settled him a bit.
Margaret interrupted before he could finish: Karate! Thats terribly dangerous! How could your mother let you do such a reckless sport? She was genuinely horrified; the first time she saw a bruise on him shed kicked up a huge fuss, demanding he leave the club immediately. Utterly irresponsible!
Just then, Emily came through the door. Sensing the tension, she resolutely strode over, reaching for her son. Alex jumped up and ran to her side, seeking refuge.
Margaret, if you want to see your grandsons, youll need to stop with all this nonsense! Emilys voice was firm as she wrapped an arm round Alex. First you write to Social Services, claiming were neglectful; then you fill Alexs head with mad ideas! And you can leave Joannas name out of it! Or do you really think no ones going to do something about her?
Margaret turned pale but quickly recomposed herself, trying to mask her disappointment with a look of injured dignity.
Im only thinking of the boys wellbeing! Joanna only wants whats best! Shes always dreamed of having children, while you…you shattered her hopes! Her words sounded more like an accusation than anything else, though she tried to keep a measured tone. And you keep doing so!
Emily stared back calmly and unflinchingly. She could adopt if she wants a child so badlywith their income itd be simple enough! And if you keep interfering, youll lose the chance to see your grandsons altogether. Goodbye. She held Alexs hand, relieved to have had the final word this time.
How dare they! Trying to tempt a child with expensive gifts and a private room! Suggesting we cant give our children a good life? Emily watched her mother-in-law lace up her shoes and bit back the urge to hurry her out with a shove. She clenched her fists, then forced herself to relax. No need to let Margaret see just how much her behaviour had hurt.
Alex sidled over, gently touching his mothers hand, and offered a warm smile. For a twelve-year-old, he seemed to understand a lot.
Mum, dont worry, he whispered, hugging her. Its only Aunt Joanna. Gran just wants to help her.
Emily sighed deeply, brushing a hand through Alexs hair as she mustered a smile. Alright, off to the kitchenyoull find a chocolate cake I picked up. Lets have some tea, eh?
Alexs face lit up and he dashed towards the kitchen, excited by the thought of dessert. Watching him, Emilys mind circled back to the recent rows. She realised the real issue wasnt Margaret at all. It was about Joanna.
Joanna was thirty-two, financially secure thanks to a well-off husband, and presented an almost exaggerated example of English middle-class success. At every opportunity Joanna subtly reminded others of her superior lifementioning her new car, the latest kitchen extension, her recent holidays in Spain or Greece, or casting sidelong glances at Emilys ordinary clothes or her boys battered trainers. It was always shaded in faintly, never outright gloatingyet deeply cutting all the same.
But there was one emptiness in Joannas life: she had no children. Her carefree twenties had left traces, and the doctors gave her no hope of conceiving. Her husband had two grown-up sons from his first marriage and didnt seem especially bothered, but for Joanna, it was a tragedy. She was haunted by the knowledge shed never have a child, consuming her every waking thought and desperate for some solution, even the most far-fetched. And so she set her sights on Alexher nephewa substitute for the baby shed never hold.
Matters deteriorated sharply after Emily had her second child. Joanna, previously just a little too eager, suddenly began openly proposing that the new baby could be given to her. Her persistence was alarming; she repeated her wish again and again, not tolerating any arguments.
Emilys husband, Tom, took the threat seriously and, in no uncertain terms, told Joanna she was unwelcome at their house. He radiated a fierce determinationhe wasnt about to risk his children for anyone. His stance was unwavering; no one would even get near the baby without his say-so.
It took Joannas husband to intervene. No one knew exactly what was said, but Joanna retreated for a while and even apologised to Tom. The conflict seemed to have ended, but the peace was short-lived.
A few weeks later, Joanna returned with a bolder proposal. One afternoon, she cornered Emily at Margarets and blurted out, Would you be a surrogate for me? Ill pay handsomely. You could even get a better place than the one youve got.
Emily was stunned, barely comprehending at first. Staring at her sister-in-law, she tried to gauge if this was a joke. But the strained look on Joannas face was deadly earnest.
The idea made Emily sick to her stomach. The thought of carrying a child for someone else, feeling it move, then handing it overit was unimaginable, utterly revolting. She shook her head; it was out of the question, on every level.
But Emilys refusal only emboldened Joanna. She began calling daily, offering larger and larger sums, talking about the future she could give Emilys family with more moneya new flat, security, the best schools…
Then she became relentless, standing for hours outside Tom and Emilys flat, waiting for someone to come out and talk. Her persistence was frightening. It seemed shed stand there all day, all night if she thought it might work.
Emily finally realised that it couldnt carry on. She asked Margaret for help, making every effort to remain calm as she explained just how unhinged and worrying Joannas behaviour was, begging her to see her daughters need for professional help. But Margaret simply brushed off her concerns, her confusion replaced by an almost defiant certainty.
Theres nothing improper in Joannas request! Family should help each other! Were just looking out for one another, Margaret replied, with a tone that suggested she couldnt imagine any alternative.
Emily had avoided this conversation for as long as possible, but the endless pressure and offers from Joanna pushed her beyond her limits. Finally, she decided to speak the hard truthalthough it wasnt something youd typically share with your mother-in-law.
I cannot have any more children, she said at last, looking directly into Margarets eyes. Her voice was steady, if strained. Its not just that I dont want to. The doctors strongly advised against iteven the second child was a risk. If you keep pressuring me, youre risking my health and my life. Tell your daughter to stop. If she wants a baby, there are clinicslet her look there.
It was difficult enough to share something so personal, but Emily knew this was the only way to put an end to the badgering.
Margaret arched an eyebrow, as if reflecting on what shed heard. A flash of disappointment passed, quickly replaced by a brisk practicality.
I see, she sighed. Thats a pity…It would have been easier if youd helped. It would have been simpler to keep things under control. But with someone else, who knows. Anyway, if you cant, just get on with your life.
She sounded as though she were discussing hiring a decorator or selling a car, not talking about the risks to another persons body and future. The disinterest stung Emily more than any harsh word. She walked out without another word, swallowing her outrage.
At home, Emily finally let out her frustrationexplaining to Tom everything: the calls, the visits, the brazen suggestions, and Margarets indifference. Her voice shook with contained anger, but she explained it all so Tom could see just how serious the situation had become.
He listened in silence, then assured her, quietly but firmly, that he would put a stop to it. He, too, understood this couldnt go on.
In the end, all Joannas plans to find a surrogate came to nothing. After that frank talk with Emily and, presumably, a stern word from Tom, she let the idea dropat least for a while.
But Joanna never stayed idle for long. She quickly set herself a new mission: lecturing Tom and Emily on proper parenting. In her view, this was just her caring for the children: after all, shed read dozens of child psychology books and was convinced she knew bestbetter even than their own mother. Every visit of hers became a masterclass in modern methods, dispensed whether they wanted it or not.
Four years later, Joanna hatched her latest brilliant plan: lure Alex to live with her. He, in her estimation, was the perfect ageold enough to appreciate the advantages of her home, but still young enough to be moulded into what she considered the ideal nephew. She pictured spoiling him with gadgets and gifts, weekend outings, the lot; surely, hed grow to love her and want to stay forever.
But reality had other ideas. Alex was not only uninterested but practically recoiled from his aunt. Even short visits to Joannas immaculate home were a trial for him. Surrounded by perfect furnishings and strange, expensive toys, he longed to return to the warmth of home. He continually rebuffed her invitations, citing sports, homework, or not feeling up to it.
Joanna, thwarted, brought Margaret in to help. Margaret threw herself into the task: cajoling, promising, urging Alex to see all the good things waiting for him with his aunt, and reminding him that families help each other. But Alex stood his ground. His home was with his parents, and he refused to budge.
With subtlety falling short, Joanna and Margaret turned to formal complaints. They wrote to Social Services, alleging Tom and Emily were unfit parents who kept the children in poor conditions and were incapable of giving them a decent upbringing. They fabricated a list of offences: supposed neglect of the childrens education, a lack of routine, even accusations of cruelty. Each complaint was carefully crafted, as if nothing less than the fate of the world was at stake.
None of it stuck. Time and time again, the social workers checked intalking with the boys, inspecting the flat, observing the family dynamic. Every time, Alex and his little brother were found happy and thriving. None of the claims held water. But Joanna kept going, urging Margaret not to give up.
All the while, Emily lived on edge. Every call, each unannounced visit from her mother-in-law, turned her stomach. She lived in dread that one day Joannas and Margarets bitter campaign might find its mark. She even considered divorce and moving far away, but every time she looked at Tom, she knew she couldnt do it. She loved him, she treasured their familyshe wouldnt destroy that, just to escape his relatives.
One evening, after the boys had gone to bed, Tom came to her with quiet determination.
Bear with me, Em. Ive spoken to my director about transferring to another branchtheres one in Oxford. Its all agreed. Well leave in a month, and we wont tell anyone where weve gone.
Emily glanced up, exhausted. It was good news… but, Joanna has enough money to hire a private investigator if she wants. Theyll never let go. It feels like every move we make is under a microscope. How long can we really hide?
Tom drew her close. Thats her husbands problem now, he murmured. Let him sort her out. Ive spoken to someoneIm told things could get difficult for him if she keeps this up. In his line of work, reputation matters.
Emily nodded. She didnt ask who Tom had talked to, or what was saidshe just needed to know he was doing everything possible to keep their family safe. She let herself hope that, maybe, things would now settle down.
As the weeks passed and moving day approached, Emily found herself saying quiet goodbyes to the places shed come to love: the park where they walked each Sunday, the neighbourhood café, the playground where Alex chased his mates. She was keenly aware it would be especially tough for Alexat twelve, friends and clubs mean everything. He had settled into his world here; a close-knit group, karate, teachers who valued his efforts.
One evening, as Alex sat next to her on the sofa, she ventured carefully, You get why we have to move, dont you?
He looked up, calm and candid. Of course, Mum. Ill miss my friends, yeah, but… if thats what it takes to put an end to all those rows and complaints, then Im with you. Were family. Family sticks together.
His words warmed her heart as she hugged him, the months of tension finally beginning to ease their grip.
The house sale happened more quickly than anyone expected. Frankly, despite Joanna’s sneers about their cramped little flat, it turned out to be just what many people wanteda good neighbourhood, sensible layout, school nearby. The estate agent was efficient, and within a week theyd found a buyer ready to go ahead.
The paperwork all checked out, and Tom and Emily double-checked every form. They left nothing to chance. At last, the move was imminent. New streets, new schools, new peoplethey knew it wouldnt be easy, but they finally had a chance to start afresh, to build a life free from interference…
***********************
Hello again, Mrs Emily Carter, said the social worker as she stepped inside; a pleasant, professional woman Emily recognised from earlier visits. She seemed uncomfortable about the intrusion, but her job required another follow-up complaint to be investigated.
Let me guessMargaret again? Emily gave a weary sigh, beckoning her through to the kitchen. Shed got used to these visits, though each time they made her skin crawl. So, whats our crime this time? she asked, putting the kettle on.
She visited yesterday, am I right? the worker accepted the cup of tea with gratitudefew families welcomed representatives of their department with such civility.
She didtrying to talk Alex into moving in with Joanna, as always. No luck. He said plainly he wasnt going anywhere.
Well, this morning, Margaret called Social Services. The worker hesitated, choosing her words. She showed us a photo of Matthew with a bump on his forehead and claimed youd hurt the child.
Emily felt a flush of anger, but steadied herself. Alright, let’s clear that up now.
She fetched her laptop, clicked to a folder, and played a short video. The image was clear: little Matthew, energetic as ever, wriggled free of his grandmothers grip and ran across the room, only to trip over a chair leg and bump his head on the edge of the table. Instead of rushing to comfort him, Margaret snapped photos on her phone as he cried.
The social worker watched the footage closely, occasionally nodding to herself as she compared what she saw with what shed heard.
It cant be easy, having a mother-in-law like that, she commented at last, gently setting down her cup. I doubt shell be satisfied until shes crossed every line.
Emily shut the laptop. She was still simmering inside, but she was outwardly calm. Were leaving in a couple of days. Shell only see her grandsons in photographs now
************************
When Joanna learned all her attempts had failed, her anger was palpable. She paced her flat, fists clenched, muttering, This cant be how it ends! If only Tom would let me explain…
She snatched up the phone to ring her brother, but at that moment, her husband entered and spoke with quiet firmness. Joanna, stop. Enoughs enough.
But you dont understand! she flared up. I just want”
I do understand, he interrupted. But if you keep this up, its over between us. I mean it.
She stared at him in disbelief. Are you threatening me?
No. He met her eyes. Just stating the facts. Ive been warned about trouble if you dont back off. You can choose: either we make a peaceful life together, or…
He let the sentence hang. She sat down, her anger draining into exhaustion. Her husband never made idle threats
Meanwhile, Margaret sat by the window, lost in thought. The past months played over and over in her mindpushing her beliefs, backing Joanna, trying to influence Tom and Emily.
Maybe I took things too far? she mused, fiddling with the tablecloths edge.
Passing the local playground, she always lingered, watching the children. She thought of Alex and Matthew, their smiles, the way theyd run to her. Once, shed dropped by for tea or to help with homework. Now, those days were gone.
She still looked often at their photo on the shelf, each time feeling an ache at the realisation that now, shed see her grandsons only in pictures.
***
Sometimes our deepest hopes blind us. In chasing our own dreams or ideals for those we love, we can lose sight of what they truly wantor need. No matter how well-read or determined we are, real love means listening, letting go, and respecting the boundaries of others. Family is about being together, not about controlling one anothers destiny. The greatest gift is to let people choose their own path, even if that means letting their dreamsnot ourscome first.
