Mother, are you really going to give our flat to your brothers son? And then expect me to move in with you? I wont let that happen!
Dont even think about it! Mother, are you hearing yourself? Hell evict you straight away, can you not see that?
Agnes, stop arguing with me! Ive made up my mind!
At first the mother tried to cling to her pride, to parade independence with each trembling word. Then tears slipped down her cheeks, for deep down she knew she was treating her own daughter unfairly.
The trouble lay in the fact that Matthew, Agness younger brother, had always been the golden child. It turned out that Eleanor Thompson had given birth to him after she was already past her thirtieth birthday, while Agnes arrived early, almost as if she had been hurried along.
So Eleanor dealt with her daughter the way one might say, Youre fine, I suppose. She raised Agnes almost singlehanded, because in those days shed promised herself to finish her university degree. Matthew, however, was already a carefully plotted part of the family picture when Eleanor remarried for the second time and began to relish motherhood.
Agnes watched it all with a quiet, puzzled stare. She could not understand why her mother so openly favoured the brother over the sister. Most parents, she thought, veil their preferences, yet Eleanor never hid the fact that Matthew was nearer to her heart.
She even wondered, bewildered, why the siblings never seemed to share a warm bond. There must have been a reason, she mused, for such strange coldness.
After all, Matthew had been handed the best of everything since childhood. While Agnes was expected to make do with what was left and not dare to complain, he received the larger share of the household money. Hes a man now, Eleanor would say, so its only proper. The fact that he was a few years younger mattered not a whisper.
Remember, Matthew, when you grow up youll earn your own living and support your own family. Until then Im obliged to help him!
Mother, what about me?
And you? Your task is to marry well and cling to a husband, she declared, spreading her hands over the kitchen table with a confident flourish.
Agnes snapped back, insisting she had no intention of leaning on a man, that she wanted to develop as an individual, career and all.
What nonsense youre spouting, by my honour! Isnt it amusing to you?
Whats so amusing about that?
At least youre saying what no one in our clan has ever dared to think.
So I shall be the first.
Agnes could not follow her mothers logic and refused to become her copy. By this very approach she soon moved into a rented flat of her own.
The move felt like a breath of fresh, cool air. Living under the same roof with brother and mother had become unbearable, the longer she stayed, the heavier the walls seemed. Yet they were hardly bothered; the apartment simply grew more spacious for them.
Five years slipped by. In that time Agnes managed to secure a mortgage on a small terraced house in a leafy suburb of Manchester and paid it off, while Matthew still lived with Eleanor, had brought his wife, Ella, into the same flat, and within a few months a baby arrived.
Eleanor, by nature, was a woman who got used to making do with what she had. She clung to that stance for many years.
Can you imagine, dear? Our neighbour just bought a dishwasher. Not her own money, of courseher children gifted it.
Thats nice.
Id love one too, but Im scared to admit it!
Why?
Because Matthews job is tight right now. Theyll cut him soon and hell have to hunt for another, and Ella is on maternity leave, scraping together a paltry allowance.
Matthew also had a peculiar habit of hoarding his cash. He was perfectly content to live off his mothers support, as if the groceries in the fridge appeared by magic.
Matthew, when will your conscience finally wake up? Agnes snapped when they unexpectedly crossed paths in a supermarket.
He was rummaging for fizzy drinks and a packet of crisps ahead of a football match.
Whats with the accusation?
At least help Mother with her money! Her pension isnt endless. She buys all the food out of her own pocket, you know?
Matthew averted his gaze, looking off into the distance, for he understood that his sister was right.
Whats it to you? You still dont live with us.
I feel sorry for Mother!
Pity yourself. No family, no husband. Shes already feeling sorry for everyone else!
Those words sent Matthew turning on his heel and walking away, while Agnes stood frozen, stunned. He knew exactly where to strike to cause the deepest sting and used it with practiced skill.
By the time she turned thirtyfive, Agnes had never been married. Her former boyfriend, with whom shed dated for years, had cheated on her, and she was not ready for new attachments.
Miss, can I help you? a shop assistant asked.
No, thank you.
Agnes knew she was doing the right thing. Matthew was no longer a teenager; he was a husband and a father to a newborn, and therefore obliged to shoulder responsibility instead of leaning on his mothers purse strings.
Agnes, how dare you say that to him? Eleanor began, her voice sharp with a mothers fury.
Mother, I only spoke the truth and defended you.
Did I ask you to? By the way, your words made Matthew shout across the whole flat. We have a tiny baby, do you understand?
Because of me? What does that have to do with anything?
Agnes didnt know how to answer her mothers accusations.
And you shouldnt have said that to him. You know how vulnerable he is.
It was strange how Eleanor spoke of Matthew without ever considering how her own daughter felt, the one who had loved her. Even now, when Agnes tried to stand up for her brother and, in a twisted way, for her mother, she found herself blamed again.
About six months after that heated exchange, Agnes cut off all contact. Then, out of the blue, her mother called, pleading for her to return.
Nothing in the flat had changed. The dishwasher, of course, was still missing.
Where are Matthew and his wife?
Theyre on a family celebration. Im here with little Sam. Fancy a cup of tea?
No, Mother, I dont want that. You wanted to talk to me about something, didnt you?
Yes, Ive made a very important decision. I want to give the flat to Sam.
At first Agnes thought her mother was joking, testing her reaction.
You mean you want to give the shared flat to my brothers son? Mother, are you out of your mind?
Agnes, stop arguing! Ive decided!
Naturally, Agnes tried to explain how disastrous that move would be, but Eleanor pressed on.
So not only do you look after all of us, you also want to rewrite the deed?
Im just helping, not exaggerating.
And whats Ella doing now?
Shes with the baby. You know, that will be harder than any job.
Did Ella tell you that? I see shes always posting on social media.
You dont understand, Agnes! Its because you have no children of your own that you think you know everything.
Agnes realised she had no business coming back. Six months of silence had changed nothing.
I see youve arrived in a new car. Bought on credit? Eleanor asked, eyeing the sleek vehicle.
No, I bought it outright.
Still, you refused to help Matthew. You heard hes been laid off, and hes scrambling for work, barely getting by.
Agnes kept marveling at her mothers reasoning. After all, Matthew was an adult now and, once, he should have taken responsibility for his family.
What are you hinting at?
Im not hinting, Im stating it outright. I could buy the child a new cot because we had to make do with an old one. And I could really use a dishwasher; my arms ache from washing dishes by hand.
Im busy, Mother.
Agnes headed for the door, but her mothers rant continued.
Before leaving, she asked one last question.
Mother, if you transfer the flat to their child, theyll evict you in a heartbeat. Where will you go then?
Eleanor, still deaf to her daughters pleas, snarled.
Oh, Agnes, so stubborn! Sam is my only grandchild. Youll never have grandchildren yourself, and youll never marry, wont you? Im not surprised. Your temperament is dreadful, only thinking of yourself!
Those words extinguished any desire Agnes had left to argue. She thought, if theyre all so marvelous, let them buy me a dishwasher. She would sort her own life out. It had been hard, but there was nowhere else to go. Eleanor had long ago sealed her choice.
So it is Whats done is done. As the saying goes, you reap what you sow. She forgot, perhaps, that old age is not far behind
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