“No, Mum, you really mustnt come down now, says my son. Honestly, just think about it. Its a long old trek, all those hours on the train, and youre not exactly a spring chicken anymore. Whats the point in all that fuss? And anyway, its springsurely youve got plenty to keep you busy in the garden?
I sigh, because we havent seen each other for ages. But darling, thats precisely why I want to visit! And Id really like to meet your wife properly. You know, get to know my daughter-in-law a bit better.
Alright, tell you what, he says, lets wait until the end of the month. Well all come up to see you insteadEasters around then, so theres a proper run of bank holidays.
I had half a mind to hop on a train regardless, but I swallowed my own longing and agreed to his plan, telling myself to stay put at home.
Naturally, nobody came. I rang him a few times, but he dodged my calls. When he finally rang back he said he was absolutely snowed under and that I shouldnt wait for them.
I was crestfallen. Id been so looking forward to having my son and his wife over. Hed got married six months earlier, and I still hadnt had the chance to clap eyes on my new daughter-in-law.
My son, William, was my pride and joy, my only one. Id never marriedturns out thats easier said than doneso at thirty I decided to have a child and pour all my love into him. Some might say thats selfish or wrong, but I never regretted my decision for a second, no matter how tough things were. Money was tight and we lived frugallymake-do-and-mend and all thatbut I always worked multiple jobs just to make sure he had everything he needed.
Eventually, William went off to university in London. To help him settle in, I even took cleaning jobs in Birmingham, sending him money every month so he could focus on his studies and not worry about paying rent in the capital. Oh, my heart sang just knowing I could support him like that.
By his third year, he was earning a bit himself, and later, when he started working after graduation, he was quite self-sufficient.
Hed come home, but only about once a year. As for me, can you believe, Id never even set foot in Londonimagine! I told myself that when he got married, Id finally make the trip, and I even started putting money aside. In total, I saved £1,500 for the occasion.
Six months back, William rang with the news at lasthe was getting married.
Mum, look, dont come for this bitwere just doing the registry office now, then well do the big do later, he said.
I felt a pang of disappointment, but what could I do? He introduced me to Clara, his wife-to-be, over a video call. Seemed a nice enough girlvery pretty, and absolutely minted. Her fathers some big shot businessman. I just had to be happy for him, really.
Time passed, but still there was no invitation for me to come down or for them to visit. After a point, I couldnt stand it anymore, so I took matters into my own hands: bought a train ticket, packed up enough homemade food to feed the army, even baked a loaf of bread for the journey.
I phoned William to let him know Id be coming, just before I boarded.
Oh, Mum, honestly! he said. Why have you done that? Im at work; I cant collect you. Heres the addressget a taxi from the station.
When I arrived in London, the taxi nearly cost me an arm and a leg, but the city looked charming in the morning light, so I gazed out at the crowds and the terraced houses as we crawled through the traffic.
Clara opened the door. Not so much as a smile or a hug. She just nodded and told me to head through to the kitchen. William had already left for work.
I started unpacking my bags: potatoes, beetroot, eggs, dried apples, pickled mushrooms, gherkins, tomatoes, jars of jam. Clara watched in silence, then shrugged and said I shouldnt have botheredthey dont eat that sort of thing, and besides, she never cooks at home.
What do you eat, then? I asked, genuinely puzzled.
We do deliveries. Every day. I cant stand the smell of cooked foodit lingers for days, she replied.
Before I even digested this revelation, a little boy of about three wandered in.
Meet my son, Max, said Clara.
Matthew? I repeated, mishearing.
No, Max, not Matthew, she snapped. I wish people would get names right.
Alright then, Clara, I said.
Its not Clara, its Clare. Nobody muddles names up in Londonyou probably wouldnt know
I honestly felt like bursting into tears. Not because my son had married someone with a childhed told me nothing about any of this anyway!but because it all felt so distant.
And then I spotted the huge wedding portrait on the wall.
Well, if you didnt have a wedding, at least youve got lovely photos, I offered, attempting to lighten the mood.
What do you mean, no wedding? There were 200 guests. You just werent thereWilliam said you were poorly. Perhaps its for the best, was Clares reply, looking me up and down.
Would you like some breakfast?
Um yes, please.
Clare plonked a mug of tea and a plate of expensive cheese in front of me. Apparently, that was breakfast.
Im not used to this. After a long journey, I need a proper meal. I decided Id fry some eggs and slice my homemade bread. Clare stopped me in my tracksno fried food allowed because of the smell. Wouldnt touch my bread eithershe and William are on a health kick, didnt you know.
I didnt feel like eating, not anymore. Id looked forward to the wedding for years, scraping together every penny, and in the end, I wasnt even wanted there.
As I sipped my tea in strained silence, Max clung to my leg for a hug. I bent down, but Clare flapped her arms and snapped, Please dont touch him, we dont know where youve been.
I had no treats for the boy, but I offered him a jar of raspberry jam, saying it would be lovely with pancakes.
Clare snatched it away. How many times? We eat properly in this houseno sugar, ever!
That was it. I left my tea untasted, put on my coat in the hallway. Clare didnt even ask where I was going.
Sat weeping on a bench outside, Id never felt so hurt in my life.
A little later, I watched as Clare took all my homemade preserves and binned them. When shed left, I scooped them back into my bag and dragged myself to the station. Luck was on my sidesomeone returned a ticket, so I could head home that evening.
At the station, I found a café and treated myself to a slap-up lunch: proper beef stew, a pile of roast potatoes, and salad. It cost a fortune, but blow itI deserved it.
I stashed my bags in left luggage and wandered around the city for a few hours. London was beautiful, and for a brief while, I forgot my troubles.
On the train home, I didnt sleepI just cried. Worst of all, William didnt ring, not even to ask where I was.
Id sooner expect snow in July than for my own child to treat me like that. He was my only son, the one I pinned all my hopes on, and now I realised he simply didnt need me at all.
Now I dont know what to do with the £1,500 Id saved for his wedding. Give it to him? Let him know Ill always care for him? Or keep it to myself because, after all this, Im not sure he deserves it.
