Dear Diary,
This afternoon I paid a visit to my motherinlaw, Margaret Sinclair, at her flat on the fifth floor of the new block on Victoria Road. I pressed the buzzer, but the door remained shut. When it finally opened, Margaret was slumped in the hallway, barely able to stay upright.
Margaret, whats happened? I asked, my voice trembling. I had never seen my usually steadfast motherinlaw looking so frail.
Its Sam, she whispered hoarsely, clutching a glass of water. Hes thrown our little Emma out of the house, children and all! Her eyes welled with tears.
Hed told her hed found a lover, was filing for divorce, and now intended to live with his housekeeper and that pretty new girlfriend. He has no right to evict them, I protested. Theyre on the lease!
But the flat came from his parents, Margaret replied. Its his property, technically.
I stared, bewildered. So what does that mean?
She explained that Emma and her two daughters now share one room, while Sam and his lover occupy the other. I could feel my anger rise. Hes a scoundrel, even the children suffer because of him! I said, my voice shaking.
Margaret sighed, I dont know what to do. Ive called Emma; shell be here tomorrow.
I tried to calm her. Im renting out the flat I inherited from my grandmother. Ill tell the other tenants I cant take any more lodgers. She reminded me of the mortgage on the flat. Youre still paying it off with the rent, arent you?
I assured her, Well manage for a couple of months. Lydia will find work, perhaps a councilsupported accommodation or a decent job with a decent wage. In the meantime you can hold out for a week until my other tenants move out.
Margarets face softened. Bless you, dear. Youre a true angel.
Within a day Lydia (the sister of the evicted Emma) arrived with her daughters, and a week later the old tenants cleared out, leaving the flat to me and my children. Lydia wandered through the threebedroom flat, admiring the fresh renovations.
Its lovely, she said. When did you redo it?
Six months ago, I replied. We took out a mortgage, decided to rent the flat at a higher rate to meet the monthly bank payment, so we had to refurbish and update the furniture and appliances.
Lydia nodded. Ill look for any jobcleaner, groundskeeperjust something to keep a roof over my head.
My brother, Paul, who lives with his wife, added, We cant house you for a year or two, love. We still have a car loan and mortgage to pay. But keep looking for a solid position; well help where we can.
Three months later, as I was preparing dinner, my phone buzzed: a message from the bank reminding me of tomorrows mortgage instalment. I fetched the envelope, counted the cash, and realized I was short by £5,000. The front door opened and Evan, my husband, slipped in.
Evan, love, why so late? I kissed his cheek.
He shrugged, I stopped by Lydias for a quick chat.
Hows she? I asked.
Great, he answered, a hint of pride in his tone.
Later he told me Lydia had decided to stay in the flat for at least six months, saying she needed a stable environment to recover after her recent divorce. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.
What are we going to do? I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Ill speak to Lydia tomorrow and ask her to cover the council tax herself. Weve been paying for her three months already, I replied, my frustration barely contained.
The next evening I drove to Lydias flat. As I stepped out of the lift, music and laughter spilled into the hallway. When I reached her door, I found a fullblown party: two couples dancing in the living room, a table set with candles, and Lydia and a young manDarrencarrying plates from the kitchen.
On what money are you celebrating? I whispered, pulling Lydia aside.
From the child benefit, she replied, eyes bright. After everything Ive been through, I deserve a night off.
I pressed, Who are those people?
Weve been seeing each other for two months, she said. When we find a place well move in together. For now he just drops by now and then with his friends.
I tried to keep my tone calm. Lydia, you have exactly one month left before we need the flat back. Youre spending the child benefit on parties. Do you realise the children could be taken away?
Her face hardened. And what about you, telling me how to live? Ill manage without your advice.
I left the flat feeling a cold weight settle over me. Later at dinner, I recounted the whole scene to Evan. Maybe we should help her find a job and get her on her feet, I suggested. When the applications start coming in, we can drive her to interviews.
The next day we printed a stack of job listings and handed them to Lydia. That evening I visited Margaret again, hoping to discuss the situation. I pressed the buzzer on the fifth floor, but the door stayed closed. I realized Margaret wasnt home; perhaps her husband, Peter, would answer. I waited, and soon heard voices climbing the stairsMargaret and Lydia.
Mother, shes relentless! Lydia complained. I keep saying I need a break, I need help
Margarets voice was soft, Whats she saying?
She wants us out in a month because they have two loans to pay. Who else is going to lend them money?
Sweetheart, my daughterinlaw may be welloff, but shes stingy, Margaret muttered. And Evan is the same.
Lydia sobbed, I just want a stable job, something clean, so I can sit in peace
Learn, my dear, learn Margaret chided.
I pretended to glance at my phone, ignoring their conversation. When they all entered the flat, I slipped into the kitchen and asked Lydia, Does Denny have his own place?
No, she replied. He lives in a dormitory. He was just let go and has a month to clear his room.
I felt a flash of irritation. Where will he go then? Not into our flat, I hope?
We havent decided, she said.
We renovated this flat not to become a boarding house, I said firmly. Please sort your personal affairs elsewhere.
Lydia lifted her head, irritated, while I continued, Evan gave you a list of vacancies today. If you dont pick something, youll be back here in a week.
Margaret frowned, How will we all fit?
I answered, You wont be cramped if Lydia finds a job and secures her own roof. She hasnt even applied for maintenance payments yet; she lives off child benefit and enjoys it. Evan and I have no intention of supporting her forever.
Lydia snapped, You have a long tongue!
I left, her words echoing behind me. Margaret stared at me, then turned to her daughterinlaw and asked, Now tell me, who is Denny and where does your child benefit go? Dont you dare lie to me!
Lydia finally confessed everything, clutching her head. So you think Olivia and Evan are the bad ones and Im the good one? Fine, Ill find a job within a month. If not, youll take the children away. Do as you wish. Im not throwing words to the wind.
The party fizzled, and Lydia trudged home, her phone buzzing with the printed job listings. She typed a furious message to me: Ill never forgive you for this! and sent it.
Its a tangled mess, and I cant help but wonder whether any kindness truly returns. Yet, I must keep moving, one step at a time.
OliviaIn the quiet that followed, I finally understood that love and duty could never be neatly divided.
