You Should Always Listen to Your Mum — “Why are you always so angry, Mum? Are you upset that I’m happy? We’re in a serious relationship, and—” — “A serious relationship, Dennis, means building a future together. You two just flit from one rented flat to another, making a disgrace of your families!” “Has she ever even been here? Ever just for a cuppa, to meet us? No.” “Because you know, the moment she walks through this door and realises you’re just a student sharing a room with your little brother, she’ll lose interest in a flash!” — “That’s not true! She doesn’t care about money!” Dennis protested. — “Then why don’t you go for walks in the park? Why not spend time in a café? Why do you always have to rent a flat every weekend? Do you know how much that is a month? At least £120! That’s your whole wage for delivering takeaways. You work just to feel like ‘lord of your life’ for 48 hours!” Gail threw her wet cloth into the sink, splattering water on her freshly cleaned tiles—she was in no mood. From the next room, a wardrobe banged—Dennis, her eldest, was hunting for something again. “Dennis, how much longer are you going to be banging about?” Gail shouted. “We’re sitting down for lunch!” “Mum, I’m not eating, I’m heading out,” Dennis appeared in the doorway, zipping up a new hoodie. “And I won’t be back tonight. Or Sunday.” Gail turned to him slowly. “Again?” she squinted. “Back to those grimy rentals again?” Dennis grimaced. “What does it matter where? I’m an adult.” “An adult?” Gail snorted. “Adults buy their own shoes, instead of asking their mum for bus fare. And proper adults don’t blow every penny from their part-time jobs on dodgy bedsits! Think what that looks like from the outside.” “It’s not a bedsit,” Dennis snapped. “It’s a decent flat. We just want time alone together, away from you and her parents. What’s so bad about that?” “Dennis, she’s older than you! She should have some sense. Or does she just not care where you two get up to it? Is nothing sacred with her?” “Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” Dennis burst out. “You don’t even know her!” At the raised voices, Dennis’ dad emerged from his study, regarded his wife and son, sighed, and leaned in the kitchen doorway. “Same argument again?” he asked quietly. “Dennis, your mum’s right. Last week you asked me for £30 for books. I gave it to you. But then Tony said those textbooks were free from the uni! Tony saw you in Tesco in the evening, buying bags full with your… Isobel. Were those books?” Dennis flushed. “I got her a present. I’m allowed!” “With my money?” Steve stepped forward. “Here’s the deal, ‘adult’. If you’ve got money for rent and gifts for your lady, you’ve got money for food and clothes. From now on, me and your mum are giving you less. Only enough for your bus pass and a school lunch. The rest—you sort yourself.” “Fine!” Dennis snatched up his coat and stormed out. “I’ll manage!” The door slammed. Gail sank onto a chair and buried her face in her hands. “Steve, what’s this all about? Three months together, and they’re already hiding out in flats every weekend. What decent girl does that? When I was her age, I held hands with you for a year before anything!” “Times change, Gail,” Steve poured himself a glass of water. “But it’s not just morals. He’s treating us like cash machines. He comes home, ravages the fridge, wants his laundry done, but all his wages go to this Isobel. That’s not on.” “We’ve got to split them up,” Gail said firmly. “She’s a bad influence. He’s turned sneaky, cheeky. He never used to be like this. Used to help out, spend his money on himself—now look!” Her husband nodded in agreement. *** All weekend Gail was on edge. Youngest son Tony kept his head down, while Steve spent both days fixing the leaky bathroom tap. Dennis came home late Sunday night. “Anything to eat?” he grumbled, heading for the kitchen. “Empty shelves, Dennis,” Gail didn’t look up from her phone. “Since you’re so independent now, we’re only shopping for ourselves and Tony. You’re a student with a job—buy yourself something.” Dennis stared, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? You’re going to starve me?” “Starve? Of course not,” Steve called from the lounge. “Just manage your budget. Instead of blowing everything on the weekend, buy yourself some meat, vegetables, pasta. Should last all month. Your choice.” “You’re trying to force me out!” Dennis yelled. “This is because of Isobel, isn’t it? You just don’t like her!” “We couldn’t care less about Isobel, Dennis,” Gail finally looked up. “We’ve never even met her. But if she’s happy for you to spend every penny on her while you’re sponging off us, that says a lot about her. She’s older. Does she work?” “She’s doing a postgrad! And she tutors on the side,” Dennis defended. “Oh? So what does she do with her money?” Gail asked softly. “Also for your precious ‘cosy weekends’? Or does she just take your offerings, nineteen-year-old lovesick fool that you are?” “She pays for the food!” Dennis lied. Gail caught it in his eyes. “Liar,” she snapped. “Dennis, listen. She’s using you. It’s easy for her: a boy who organises everything, pays for flats, buys treats. When the well runs dry, she’ll disappear.” “We’ll see!” Dennis slammed the fridge door. “Thanks for nothing, Mum!” *** Gail stuck to her guns—no yoghurts for Dennis, not a penny for spending, ironing his shirts ceased. Steve backed her—though he sometimes wanted to slip Dennis a fiver, but Gail’s look made him think twice. She knew: the moment they showed weakness, Dennis would be set in his ways for good. Wednesday evening, the tension boiled over—Dennis was in the hall, ransacking his coats. “Mum, have you seen my fiver? It was in my old jacket.” “Nope,” Gail said, not looking up from the ironing. “What, money from your part-time gone already? It’s only midweek…” “I need it… I promised Isobel theatre tickets,” he muttered, still searching pockets. “Damn, where’s it gone? Tony! Did you take it?” Tony, twelve, stuck his head out. “Why would I? You still owe me a tenner from last time, remember? Don’t shout.” “I’m not shouting!” Dennis was losing it. “It’s just nothing’s safe in this house! Everything vanishes!” “Theatre, eh?” Gail broke in. “How are you getting to uni tomorrow, then? Walking? Or is Isobel driving? She’s the grown-up, right?” “Mum, stop! We’re adults. We need space. You just don’t get it…” “I get it just fine,” Gail set down the iron and looked Dennis in the eye. “You’re getting played, love. Isobel’s twenty-one—she can see you’re green and besotted, ready to jump through hoops. She saves her money, spends yours. Why not test it? Tell her you’re broke this weekend, suggest a walk in the park instead. See what she says.” “Fine!” Dennis shouted. “You’ll see, she’ll stick by me! She loves me!” “We’ll see. Until then, find your fiver—I haven’t touched it.” *** All Thursday and Friday, Dennis was a thundercloud. He tried cadging cash off Steve, but Steve just shrugged, “You’re independent now, son.” Saturday morning, Dennis didn’t leave for his usual pre-dawn escape. He sat in the kitchen, quietly picking at a dry sandwich, phone buzzing with messages. “What, your ‘serious relationship’ needs reporting in?” Gail sipped her coffee. Dennis just twitched. Another message pinged: “Dennis, are you messing around? I’ve made plans. We had an agreement.” “She angry?” Gail sat across from him. “Told her you’re skint?” “Told her,” Dennis replied flatly. “She says I’m irresponsible. That if I promised, I should have budgeted, borrowed—found a way… She wrote that she turned down shopping with friends for this weekend.” “Oh really,” Gail smirked. “So entertaining her is 100% your job? Didn’t offer to split? Or, as the elder, pay herself if she wants it so badly?” “Mum, stop… She’s a girl. Girls shouldn’t have to pay.” “Girls who respect their boyfriends don’t put them in debt for the privilege of sitting in an Airbnb watching Netflix! Dennis, she’s training you.” His phone rang. Dennis hesitated, then took the call: “Yes, Is… Like I said, not this time. The landlord upped the price, and I… just didn’t budget right. How about a film instead? Or your place?” The voice on the other end was loud enough for Gail to catch snippets: “Can’t at my parents’… you promised… I’m not freezing outdoors… just sort it…” Gail’s heart ached for Dennis—he turned ashen in moments. “Is, listen… No, can’t borrow from my dad. Why am I a ‘mummy’s boy’? There’s just no money! Hello? Hello?” He looked at his phone—she’d hung up. “Well? What’s plan B?” Gail pressed on. “Rob a bank or finally wake up?” Dennis leapt up, knocking over his chair. “Oh, to hell with it!” he grabbed his jacket and stormed out. *** He was gone all day. Gail was beside herself; Steve muttered that they’d gone in too tough, but Gail held firm. Dennis came home late, his jacket soaked, looking utterly lost. “Den, what happened?” Gail rushed to him. “We met at the shopping centre,” Dennis shrugged off his jacket. “She was with her mate. I went up to them, wanted to know why she lied about plans. She didn’t even blink, Mum. She and her mate, Jen, both had bags from some posh boutiques. I asked: ‘Isobel, you said you couldn’t even afford the tube?’ She gave me this look… and said, ‘Dennis, don’t embarrass me in public. Your money problems aren’t my business. Why should I sit at home bored because of you?’” “And what did you do?” Steve quietly asked. “I told her it was low—that I’d fallen out with you two, taken extra shifts just to keep her happy. She laughed and said, ‘You wanted to play grown-up. No one asked you to play landlord. You liked feeling important—don’t blame me.’” A weight lifted from Gail’s shoulders. Finally, her son saw Isobel’s true colours. They sat for hours, talking. Dennis seemed calmer. He promised his mum to break up with Isobel. Gail gently explained: she and Dad didn’t mind him having a love life—just not with someone like Isobel. Mother always knows best…

You really ought to listen to your mum

Why are you always so cross, Mum? Are you just annoyed because Im happy? I mean, Ella and I have a serious relationship and

A serious relationship, Matthew, is when people are building a future together. All you two do is bounce around rented flats, making a spectacle of yourselves!

Have you ever once invited her round to ours? Even just for a cuppa, just to introduce her? No, you haven’t. Because deep down you knowas soon as she walks through that door and sees youre just an ordinary student, sharing a tiny room with your little brother, all that interest she claims to have will just evaporate!

Thats not true! She doesnt care about money! I exclaimed.

Then why dont you take her out to the park? Why not pop into a café? Why, every weekend, do you need to hire some dodgy flat?

Do you know what that all adds up to? At least £120 a month! Thats your entire pay from your courier job.

Youre working just so you can swan about feeling like the lord of the manor for two days a week!

Mum hurled a wet cloth into the sink, splattering water on the freshly cleaned tiles. She wasnt in the best of moods.

In the next room, the wardrobe door slammed I was rifling about, searching for something again.

Matthew, how much longer are you going to clatter about in there? Mum shouted. Lunch is ready!

Mum, Im not having lunch. Im heading out I appeared in the kitchen doorway, hastily pulling on my new hoodie. And I wont be home tomorrow either. Or on Sunday.

Mum turned to stare at me.

Again? she narrowed her eyes. Going to crash in another flea-pit flat?

I made a face.

What does it matter where I go? Im an adult!

An adult? Mum gave a short laugh. Adults pay for their own shoes, not ask their mums for bus fare.

And adults dont chuck all their wages from side jobs down the drain renting grotty flats by the night! Do you have any idea how this looks from the outside?

It isnt a flea-pit, I snapped. Its a decent place. We just want to spend time together, away from you and away from her parents. Whats wrong with that?

Matthew, shes older than you! She ought to have more sense! Or does she just not care where she jumps into bed with you? Isnt she the slightest bit embarrassed?

Dont talk about her like that! I yelled. You dont even know her!

The row brought Dad through from the living room. He looked at us both and let out a heavy sigh, leaning on the doorframe.

At it again? he grumbled. Matthew, your mums got a point. Only last week you asked me for thirty quid for textbooks, which I gave you.

Then Jamie said the uni handed those textbooks out for free! Jamie saw you in Tesco with this… Ella of yours. You were both loaded up with shopping bags. Let me guess: textbooks in those, were there?

I went red.

I bought her a present. Im allowed!

On my money? Dad stepped forward. Listen here, grown man. If youve enough for hiring flats and buying gifts for girlfriends, you can sort out clothes and food for yourself too.

From today, your mum and I are cutting your allowance. Youll get your bus fare and lunch money for uni, and thats it. The rest, you sort out.

Fine by me! I grabbed my coat, storming out. Ill manage!

The door slammed. Mum slumped into a chair and covered her face with her hands.

Oh, Dave, whats he playing at? Three months with this girl and already sloping off to rented flats. What sort of decent girl wants to do that? When I was her age, you and I went walking hand in hand for a whole year!

Different times, Julie, Dad said, pouring himself a glass of water. But never mind all that. Hes treating us like a cash machine.

He comes home, eats everything in the fridge, expects his washing done, and anything he earns, he hands straight to Ella. Thats not on.

We need to split them up, Mum said decisively. Shes having a terrible influence. Hes gone all secretive and rude.

He used to be a good lad, always helped out. He might not have given us money, but at least he spent it on himself. Now what?

Dad just nodded.

***

That weekend, Mum was on edge the entire time. My little brother Jamie kept out of her way, while Dad made a show of fixing the dripping tap in the bathroom. Come Sunday evening, I finally wandered back in.

Is there anything to eat? I muttered, heading for the kitchen.

Fridge is empty, Matthew, Mum replied coolly, scrolling on her phone. Weve decided that since youre so independent, foods for me and Jamie only.

Youre working now, earning extra. You can buy your own meals.

I stared, stunned.

Are you serious? Youre actually going to let me go hungry?

Hardly, came Dads voice from the lounge. Just manage your budget.

Instead of wasting every wage packet on weekends, buy yourself some meat, veg, and pasta. Should do you for the month. Up to you.

You just want rid of me! I shouted. This is all about Ella, isnt it? You just dont like her!

We couldnt care less about your Ella, Matthew, Mum finally looked up at me. Weve never even clapped eyes on her.

But if shes letting you spend every last penny on her, knowing youre living off your parents, that says a lot.

She is older than you. Doesnt she have a job?

Shes doing a Masters! I snapped. And she tutors on the side.

And what happens to her money? Mum asked softly. Is she putting it towards your cosy weekends?

Or is she just happy to let a nineteen-year-old love-struck fool foot the bill?

She pays for food! I lied, and Mum saw right through it.

Liar, she shot back. Matthew, listen to me. This girl is using you.

Shes got it easy: you organise the weekends, pay for the place, for the fun, and as soon as the money dries up, shell be off.

Well see about that! I slammed the fridge. Thanks for your concern, Mum!

***

Mum held her ground. She didnt buy my favourite yoghurts, gave nothing for pocket money, and even stopped ironing my shirts.

Dad backed her all the way, though sometimes I caught him wanting to hand me a tenner, but Mum shut that down with a look.

She knew if they gave in now, Id think I was right and just settle into living off them.

By Wednesday evening, things boiled over I was in the hallway, digging through coat pockets.

Mum, have you seen my stash? There was a fiver in my old raincoat.

Havent seen it, she barely glanced up from the ironing board. What, already out of your wages? Its only midweek…

I need it… I promised Ella theatre tickets, I muttered, still searching. Whered it go? Jamie! Did you take it?

Jamie, twelve, popped his head out from his room.

Like I want your cash, he snorted. Still waiting on the tenner you owe me. Dont shout.

Im not shouting! I snapped. Nothings safe in this house! Everything goes missing!

Theatre, was it? Mum finally snapped. Whatre you using to get to uni tomorrow? Walking, maybe? Ella going to get you a taxi? She is a proper grown-up, after all, so Im sure shes independent!

Dont start, Mum! We need our own space. You just dont get it…

Oh, I get it, Mum put the iron down and looked me straight in the eye. I see you being led about by the nose.

Ellas twenty-one, she knows youre green, smitten, ready to stand on your head for her smile. Shes just saving her money and spending yours.

Here put it to the test. Tell her you cant afford a flat this weekend, offer to go for a simple walk. See how she reacts.

Fine! I shouted. And youll see, shell stick with me! She loves me!

Well see. In the meantime, your fivers not here.

All Thursday and Friday, I moped about, miserable. I tried to borrow from Dad, but he, in full agreement with Mum, just shrugged:

On your own now, son. Youre the independent one.

Come Saturday morning, I didnt vanish at the crack of dawn as I normally would. Instead, I sat in the kitchen, chewing a plain sandwich.

My phone kept buzzing on the table.

Whats up? Serious relationship keeping you under the thumb? Mum asked, pouring herself a coffee.

I said nothing, but my face gave me away. Another message flashed up:

Matthew, are you kidding? I was counting on this. We had a plan.

She mad? Mum sat opposite, eyeing me. Told her youre skint?

I did, I muttered. She said Im irresponsible. Said if I promised, I should have set money aside, found a way… She turned down shopping with her mates just for this.

Oh, did she now? Mum half-smiled. So her weekends your responsibility? She not offered to chip in? Or, being so mature, pay for it herself if she wants it so badly?

Mum, dont Shes a girl. Girls shouldnt have to pay.

Girls who respect their bloke dont drive them into debt just for a dodgy weekend in a rented flat with the telly. Matthew, dont you see? Shes got you on a leash.

The phone rang. I hesitated, before picking up:

Ella… I told you, its not happening this time. The landlord upped the price and me… well, I didnt budget right. Maybe we could just catch a film? Or go to yours?

Her voice was so loud even Mum could hear bits. …I cant bring you home… you promised… Im not wandering about in the cold… sort something out…

Mum looked at me Id gone grey all over.

Ella, listen… No, I cant borrow off Dad. Whats that supposed to mean, mummys boy? I just dont have the money! Hello? Hello?

Shed hung up.

Well? Mum wasnt cruel, but she was relentless she knew I needed to face the truth. Whats plan B? Bank robbery, or are you ready to take off your rose-tinted specs?

I shot up, knocking over my chair.

Oh, sod it all! I grabbed my coat and legged it out the house.

***

I stayed out the whole day. Mum was frantic. Dad grumbled that perhaps theyd been too hard, but Mum stood firm. I finally made it home late, soaked through and miserable.

What happened, love? Mum rushed over.

We met at the shopping centre, I said, peeling off my rain-sodden coat. She was with her friend. I went up, wanted to know why she lied about not seeing her mates. She… Mum, she wasnt even embarrassed.

Mum pointed to a chair. Dad wandered in, leaning on the doorframe.

She stood there with her mate, Sophie both of them had loads of shopping bags, all fancy shops.

I asked her, Ella, didnt you say you couldnt even afford the Tube? And she just looked at me with utter contempt…

Said, Matthew, dont humiliate me in front of people. Just because youre skint doesnt mean I have to sit at home sulking!

And you? Dad asked quietly.

I said it was rotten. That Id fallen out with you lot because of her, worked extra shifts to keep her happy.

She laughed and said, You wanted to be a grown-up. I never asked for you to rent places. You liked the feeling of being a big man, now you have a pop at me?

Mum visibly relaxed. Well, thank goodness! The real Ella had finally shown herself.

We sat in the kitchen for ages just talking. I just about calmed down and promised Mum Id break things off with Ella.

She tried to get through to me that she and Dad had no problem with my having a life of my own.

Just… not with someone like Ella. Mum knows best, after all…