“Alright, so Ill tell you what happenedits a bit of a mess, honestly.
Ill be right there, Mum, William muttered, barely glancing up from his newspaper. The article about pension increases wasnt sinking inwords blurred together, too many thoughts swirling after last nights chat with Emily.
Margaret walked in carrying a tray with two cups and a plate of biscuits. Her son didnt even look up. She set the tea beside his armchair, sat across from him, and studied his face.
Youre miles away today.
Just work stuff, he grumbled, finally putting the paper down. Thanks for the tea.
Margaret sipped hers quietly, eyes still fixed on him. Sixty-four but sharp as ever, her gaze had that no-nonsense edgethe kind that could pin you in place.
William James, she said sternly, using his full name like when he was in trouble as a kid, stop dodging. I saw you yesterday with that whats her name Emily, by the front door.
William choked on his tea. She always had a way of catching him off guard.
Mum, whats Emily got to do with anything?
Dont play daft. Forty years Ive raised youthink I dont know when somethings weighing on you? She set her cup down with a sharp clink. Out with it.
He stood, walked to the window. Late autumn outside, trees nearly bare. Same hollow feeling insidepartly from the conversation looming, partly knowing she was right about his intentions.
I want to marry her, he said, not turning around.
The silence stretched so long he finally glanced back. Margaret sat bolt upright, hands folded, that familiar look from childhoodthe one before a serious talk.
Son, dont marry a girl with nothing, she said flatly. Im begging you.
It stung more than he expected. Not because it surprised himhe knew shed never warmed to Emilybut hearing it aloud was harsh.
Mum, since when do you care about money? I love her.
Love, love, she sighed, shaking her head. How will you live? You earn pennies at that museum, she makes even less at the library. What about children?
Well manage. People get by with less.
She stood abruptly, pulled an old photo album from the cabinet, flipped to a page.
Look, she jabbed a finger at the picture. Your dad and me, young and in love. Know what came next?
He knew the story, but she was set on retelling it.
We lived in a tiny flat, stretched his wages thin. I couldnt workyou were small, then your sister came. By the 20th of the month, we were borrowing from neighbours. Remember eating potatoes and carrots for days on end? How your dad snapped at us?
I remember, he said quietly. But things are different now.
Times change, people dont. She shut the album, sank back into her chair. Poverty eats love like rust, William. First its petty rowshe wants steak, youve only got pasta money. Then its biggershe needs a dress, he needs shoes. Soon enough, you cant stand the sight of each other.
Emilys not like that. She doesnt ask for much.
Yet. What happens when she sees her friends lives? When kids need school uniforms you cant afford?
William slumped back into his chair, took a sip of cold tea. It hurt because it was true. Hed lain awake worrying over the same things.
So what? Stay single forever?
Find a proper girl. Educated, decent job. Remember Lucy from down the road? Works at a bank now, good salary. Bright, pretty
Mum, Im not hiring staff, Im getting married.
Stop being so romantic, she cut in. At your age, think with your head, not your heart. Youre thirty-fivetime for fairy tales is over.
He flinched. She always knew where to dig.
So happiness is all about money now?
Not all about it, but its not without it, either. She stood, gathering the cups. Fine, I wont nag. Youre a grown manfigure it out yourself. Just remember this when things get hard.
Alone, her words looped in his head, crowding out everything else. He grabbed his phone, almost called Emily, then stopped. What would he say? That his mum disapproved?
That evening, Emily rang.
Hey, hows things? You seemed off yesterday.
Just tired, he lied.
I saw the loveliest dress today, her voice turned dreamy. That boutique near the park. Blue, really gorgeous. Bit pricey, though
Something twisted in his chest. Coincidence? Or was his mum rightwas Emily already hinting at spending?
How much? he asked, forcing calm.
Fifteen hundred quid. I know its steep, but its so pretty Work dos coming up, wanted to look nice.
Fifteen hundred. Half his monthly wage. He swallowed hard.
Well see, he said vaguely.
Youre upset, she murmured. Im not insisting, just saying
No, its fine. Just thinking.
After hanging up, he stared at the wall. Emily hadnt demanded anything, just shared a wish. But fifteen hundred That could feed them for a month. Or go towards a wedding.
Wedding plans led to more sums. Rentat least two grand a month. His museum salary: three. Hers: two-two. Fifty-two total, minus rent left thirty-two. Food, bills, travel, emergencies God forbid anyone got ill.
At breakfast next morning, Margaret acted normalserved porridge, sipped coffee, asked about his day. But her eyes lingered. She was waiting for him to realise shed been right.
Mum, howd you and Dad meet? he asked suddenly.
She raised a brow. Never told you? University. He was second year, I was first. Handsome, cleverall the girls fancied him.
What drew you to him?
She stirred her coffee, thoughtful.
Honestly? His looks first. Then how serious he wasnot like the other lads. Big planswanted to be an engineer, earn well, provide.
And did he?
At first. Good job after uni, decent wage. Then the factory closed, recession hit She set her cup down, gazed out the window. I didnt love him for money. But knowing he could support a family mattered. Women need security, especially with kids.
What if hed been poor from the start?
Dunno, she admitted. Mightve said no. At twenty, you think love conquers all. At forty, you know better.
He ate in silence. Her words sat heavy, hard to argue with.
At work, he couldnt focus. Gave tours about ancient relics while modern worries gnawed. A colleague, Sarah, noticed.
You alright, Will? Proper distracted.
Just stuff.
Ah. Girl trouble, she smirked. You and Emily serious, then?
Yeah, he said, though less sure after last night.
She not working?
Shes at the library.
Ah, Sarah drew out knowingly. Right, well, pays rubbish there. Ever thought of moving jobs? Private galleries pay better.
Id need client experience, languages
Yeah, fair.
She walked off, leaving him pondering. So it wasnt just his mumothers saw it too. Two skimpy salaries wouldnt stretch far.
That evening, he met Emily. She chatted brightly about work, new library books. He half-listened, studying her. Prettydark hair, grey eyesbut dressed plainly. Jeans years old, jumper frayed.
You know, she said suddenly, I worked out our monthly costs if we married.
He tensed. And?
If we rent a one-bed out in zone four, wed scrape by. No savings, but wed be together.
She smiled so trustingly it shamed him. Emily didnt crave luxuriesshed live frugally just to be with him.
What about kids? he asked. Howd we manage then?
Like everyone does, she shrugged. Mum raised me and my brother on a cleaners wage. We turned out fine.
He recalled her childhoodcouncil flat, charity-shop clothes, library outings their only treat. Was that what he wanted for his own kids?
Dont you want more? he ventured. A house, holidays, a car?
She thought a moment. Course. But if we cant, its okay. Having yous enough.
Walking her home, he stayed quiet. She held his hand tighter
