When Pain Speaks

When Pain Speaks

Sophie, sweetheart, I understand it all, but we really havent got a choice. We have to. Were forced to sell the house. After it’s sold and everythings divided up, well only have enough for a flat in another part of town. I want to stay here too, but its just not going to work out. Sarah held her daughters hands, brushing away tears from both her own cheeks and the girls.

These changes weighed so heavily on both of us.

Sarah and her husband, Robert, had shared nearly seventeen years together. Theyd been through plenty ups and downs like any couple but there had always been love, and any row fizzled out almost as soon as it started. Raised by her grandmother, Sarah had long ago learned her most cherished lesson: Your home must be a warm place! Make it so everyone who enters husband, children, guests, even the dog always feels they belong. Let no one ever search elsewhere for warmth you could give them at home.

Sarah had nodded along back then, barely understanding, but knowing her gran was passing on the hard-earned wisdom of her own married life. Her grans home, her family theyd been just like that, until the awful day her husband died saving their son and daughter-in-law from drowning in the river behind their garden. That stream looked gentle but hid dangerous currents only the locals truly knew. For years Margaret blamed herself for not asking, not learning more, not warning them. She became convinced that, had she been more cautious, her children and she truly counted her daughter-in-law as one of her own and her dear husband would still be alive. Sarah spent years trying to convince her it wasnt her fault, but her gran would hear none of it.

After her loss, Margaret put all her own pain aside to care for her granddaughter, knowing the child needed joy in her life, not only mourning. Just a few times each year, at the graveyard, shed let her tears flow freely, pouring out all the grief that had accumulated after, promising again and again to do all she could to give Sarah a happy life.

She managed it: her granddaughter had a warm home, a good education, a proper wedding, and Margaret even lived long enough to cradle her great-granddaughter before illness took her. And then Sarah was truly on her own there was no other family left.

Looking back, Sarah realised her gran had been right about home and marriage, but only to a point. Home should be warm, yes, but there are exceptions…

Sarah and Robert rarely had cause for any serious arguments. In truth, there was almost always just one bone of contention: Roberts mother.

Agnes was one of those women people simply call Mother and not always in an affectionate way. She lived by the rule, My way is the only way.

Robert had been born after five miscarriages Agnes only living child and she poured all her affection onto him, albeit in her own rather stifling way.

Robert loved her, and perhaps because of it, he could never stand up to her directly. He took the same approach as his father: listen silently, nod, then do things his own way later.

Hed put off introducing Sarah to his parents for ages, clearly dreading the outcome. Meanwhile, hed met Sarahs gran within days. He never explained himself, until Sarah blurted out, feeling hurt:

Are you hiding me? Am I not good enough to meet your family? You tell my gran Im everything for you, you talk about the wedding, and yet Ive never set eyes on your parents!

Robert sighed, kissed her, and said,

Im just afraid you might take one look at them and leave me!

Dont be daft! Im marrying you, not your family!

How naive I was back then.

At their first meeting, Agnes gave Sarah a frosty once-over and asked,

And your parents, what did they do?

Mum taught at the medical college, Dad was a doctor. I hardly remember them; they died in an accident when I was five. Gran brought me up.

I see.

Agnes didnt speak another word to Sarah that night. Over the years, Sarah adopted Roberts strategy polite minimal contact to little avail. She saw how Robert was torn, desperate to keep the peace, and did her best to smooth things over, but eventually she simply grew tired of trying to force a relationship and asked her husband to limit family gatherings. Robert just nodded and hugged her.

Im sorry.

Things only got harder after Roberts father died of cancer Agnes made it very clear her son was now responsible for her. Robert got the message. He went straight from work to visit her, only coming home at midnight most nights. It might have gone on forever if Sophie, then just three, hadnt started refusing to see her father at all, sulking that he never had time for her.

She misses you, Rob. She hardly sees you, even at weekends, Sarah pressed gently. She knew her husband was stretched thin, but something had to give, before Sophie shut him out for good.

Sarah had reached her limit. Agnes was perfectly healthy, still busy with her book club and theatre outings, dragging her son along like an escort. Support was one thing, but keeping a child from her father was another. Sarah could forgive losing her evenings she would even have been willing to carry on but she wouldnt accept it for Sophie.

Rob, this cant go on. Your daughter needs you. I need you too, she whispered into his chest. I miss you.

The row that followed shook the whole family, but Robert won: he was allowed to cut down visits to twice a week. In time, Agnes accepted or pretended to.

When little Sophie was at nursery, the children were given an assignment: draw your family as fairy tale characters. Not everyone finished at school, so they were told to finish at home. That night, after supper, Sophie worked away at her picture with her little tongue sticking out in concentration. When Sarah peeked into her album after tidying up, she gasped and called out to her husband.

Rob, youve got to see this theres going to be trouble, look!

Robert laughed at the drawing until he doubled over, while a hurt Sophie, certain shed done something wrong, burst into tears.

I tried so hard! Why are you laughing?

Looking at her masterpiece, she couldnt fathom what was so funny: Daddy was a knight, Mummy a lovely princess, Grandpa a troll, Great-Gran an apple tree with golden apples. And Grandma? Well, whats so wrong about a big, scaly dragon with three heads? The fire hadnt come out very well because her yellow crayon had snapped.

It was no secret: Sophie didnt like Grandma Aggie. When she did visit, rarely usually only at Christmas Sophie wanted to bar the door behind her. She couldnt put her finger on it, but she saw with a childs instinct that Aggie didnt like Mummy and deliberately tried to upset her. She never raised her voice, she was archly polite but Mummy would always be sad, sometimes in tears, when Grandma left. Sophie didnt know how to help, but when shed once tried to physically push Grandma out the door, Daddy had scooped her up and stopped her.

Your daughter is frightfully badly brought up, Robert! Honestly, what can one expect! Aggie had snapped.

After that, Aggie came to the house even less, and Sophie avoided their occasional visits to hers. The older she grew, the more she sensed the truth. There was something suffocating about her. She only understood it completely after her father died.

Roberts death was swift and senseless. Sudden heart attack, aged forty-four.

When the call came, Sarah was at work at the jewellery shop. She dropped the phone, fainted, and crashed straight into a display case, scattering glass and terrifying her colleagues, who bundled her into a chair, picking shards out of her hair and plying her with endless cups of tea.

Sarahs world simply stopped. She felt shed frozen in place brain turned to stone. Roberts friends took over the funeral and practicalities, trying to keep her and Sophie afloat. She could barely recall whod come or gone, but meals appeared, Sophie was fed, the house was clean. Gentle hands passed her soup and tea; when it went cold, someone would quietly replace it with a fresh cup.

A fortnight after the funeral, Sarah had a vivid dream.

Gran! Oh, how Ive missed you! Sarah tried to throw her arms round Margaret, but her gran pulled back sternly.

What do you think youre doing?

What do you mean, Gran?

Wheres Sophie?

Where? Probably asleep in her room…

Come on, Gran beckoned her. They went to Sophies room. Sophie lay on the bed, sobbing under the covers.

You say shes asleep? Sarah, wake up!

Sarah jolted awake to the real world, where Sophies plaintive crying was real. She dashed to her side and lay with her, holding her close.

My darling, don’t cry. Im here I always will be!

Sophie clung to her tightly.

Thank you, Gran… How could I have forgotten? You never let me go you were always there. Now Ill make it right…

The next morning, Sarah quietly started the day, rising before her daughter. The smell of vanilla pancakes soon roused Sophie, still muddled in her blanket, who shuffled into the kitchen.

Mum?

Morning! Sarah greeted her, and Sophie noticed, for the first time, the black armband had gone from her sleeve. Wash up, love, breakfast’s ready. Well get you to school, all right?

Is it time already?

Sarah turned off the gas and pulled Sophie in for a quick cuddle.

Its time, darling. Dad would want us to keep living, to be happy. He always wanted joy and laughter for you, more than anything in the world. He loved you so much… Sarah had to pause and catch herself And he loved me too. So, thats how its going to be. Now, go on hurry up, or Ill be late for work!

And so, slowly, carefully, we started to build a new life. Sarah went back to work, and Sophie returned to school except now she took it upon herself to help more. When Sarah got home at night, thered be dinner cooking or the house tidied.

A few months later, Sophie received her first passport and they quietly celebrated with a cake.

Look, Dad, Im almost grown up now! Sophie waved the little burgundy booklet at her fathers portrait in the lounge. If you were here, youd tug my ponytail and call me your little one…

Sarah just hugged her, silent.

A week after that, late one evening, Agnes came to call.

Good evening, Sarah. We need to discuss what were going to do about the house.

We hadnt spoken since Roberts funeral when, in a hushed voice, Agnes had seized my arm and accused:

This is on you! If it werent for you, hed still be here! All you ever did was take, take, take! You drained the life out of him!

Sarah had nearly collapsed, but Roberts friend Dennis steadied her and led her outside.

Dont listen, Sarah. Look at me, he said, squeezing her shoulder. Its just fate, nothing more. Loves got nothing to do with it. Rob loved you and Sophie more than his own life…

Now, sitting stiffly in my kitchen, Aggie looked somehow deflated tired eyes, pale face, trembling hands resting on the table.

Would you like some tea?

No! Ive come to settle the issue of the house.

I could barely process what she meant.

What do you mean?

Robert and I had spent years building this house. When I was pregnant with Sophie, I fussed around the builders, poking my nose into everything Robert just laughed and said,

Youre a terror! They wont dare slack off while youre about. Well move in by Christmas!

The day we finished, I thought Id never feel more at home anywhere else.

And now now Agnes was telling me I wouldnt be able to stay.

I refuse to let it go! she finally calmed her shaking hands. You will have to sell the house. I want my share of Roberts estate.

What estate?

The part thats legally due to me. And youll give it to me every last penny.

Neither of us noticed Sophie standing in the doorway.

Go away! she shouted, fists clenched.

What? Agnes stared, stunned. What did you say?

I said, go away! And dont ever come back!

How dare you! I knew you were badly brought up, but this…! Who on earth taught you

My father! Sophies voice cut through the house.

No, youre just like your mother…

Dont you dare! Dont ever insult my mother again! You think Im a little kid, that I dont understand, but I do. Now leave. Well make sure never to see you again.

For the first time, Sophie addressed her own grandmother like a stranger.

Stunned, I ushered Sophie gently out of the kitchen.

Thank you, love, now let me handle this go to your room, I whispered, kissing her on the head.

When I returned, Aggie glared at me.

What was that? Youve poisoned my own granddaughter against me!

Ive done nothing of the sort. You did this all on your own.

She looked ready to argue, but I cut her off for the first time, not hiding my anger.

Enough! Sophies right. You are not welcome here. Ill speak to a solicitor about what needs to be done. Youll get whats yours, and after that were done.

Dont kid yourself! she snapped.

I wont. I just want to get it done. I pity you, really, I said quietly, taking a long look at the lonely, broken woman across from me. Youre left all alone now…

None of your business! she screeched, grabbing her bag and storming out.

After shed gone, Sophie came back to the kitchen, finding me slumped at the table.

Mum?

Yes, sweetheart… I lifted my head, wiping away tears.

Is she serious? Do we have to move?

Im not sure. Well see. But you should be at school how come youre home?

Maths was cancelled and Maxs mum gave me a lift. Thought Id surprise you.

Well… did you get much homework?

We chatted about normal things, and slowly the storm Aggie had brought blew itself out.

Mum, why dont people love each other? Why so much anger, so much hate?

We sat together on the sofa, barely paying attention to the TV on in the background, just glad to be close and talking.

There are lots of reasons. Are you thinking about Grandma?

Yes. Why doesn’t she like you? Or me…

With me, its easy. She never liked me from the start, never could.

Why?

She always thought I’d stolen her son away.

But is that true?

Of course not! I wanted a family, to give him… and you. I thought grandparents wanted grandchildren.

But she didnt want me, either?

Not quite. She was happy when you were born. Wait let me show you something…

I returned with a little bonnet, carefully embroidered, and a knitted blanket.

These are from your Grandma.

Sophie examined the delicate stitching.

Theyre beautiful. That wouldve taken ages, Mum. This crochet is amazing.

Yes. You dont go to all that trouble for a child you dont want, do you? Only if you really care, only if youre waiting for them with love.

Sophie thought for a moment.

Why is she so cruel now?

I dont know, darling. Pain can change people makes them lash out, blame others. It’s not really us, but her loneliness. Dont be angry at your grandma, love. Sometimes pain speaks loudest. Its better to pity her. Weve got each other were not alone, but she is.

Sophie fiddled silently with the blanket.

The next morning, I rang Dennis and asked him to find a solicitor. The verdict was what I already knew Id have to sell the house. Id spent all our savings on building it.

That evening, I broke the news to Sophie, and we began searching for somewhere new.

But Sophie had her own plans. The next day, instead of heading for school, she went straight to her grandmas.

What are you doing here? Agnes answered.

Sophie handed her the bonnet and blanket in silence.

Whats this? for just a moment, Agnes voice softened.

Theyre beautiful. I know you made them for me.

Come in…

That night, Sophie curled up beside me as I trawled property sites.

Mum!

Mm? I scrolled through listings.

We dont have to move.

Sorry?

I said were staying. I talked to Grandma.

I stared, baffled.

You did what?

I went to see her. I told her… I told her I didnt want her to be alone, and that she had a choice: push for her share, but lose me, or let us keep the house, and Id still be her granddaughter.

And?

Well… Sophie placed a neatly wrapped parcel on the table.

I opened it and gasped.

Goodness, its gorgeous!

Yes, Mum! Im going to wear it for my leaving party. I think by then itll fit perfectly.

It was a floor-length dress of frosted lace, impossibly intricate, like falling snowflakes. Real lacework I knew what a labour of love it was.

Do you know how much time and patience this took, Sophie?

I do. Shes hurting, Mum. She misses Dad desperately. She cried, Mum…

Cried? Agnes?

Yes…

Sarah couldnt find words. They sat in silence until, suddenly, the phone rang in the other room. She answered, recognising the number.

Hello, Agnes.

Hello. Sophies told you what we talked about?

Just now.

Then you know I wont be pushing for my share of the house.

Thank you. And thank you for the dress its beautiful. Youve real talent!

Dont exaggerate. Tomorrow at one, at the solicitors office. Ill sign the paperwork. And, Sarah…

Yes?

Sophies a credit to you.

Sarah didnt move for a while after the call ended, just listening to the dial tone, before going into the kitchen and hugging Sophie tight.

I learned something through all of this: pain can twist people, make them lash out in ways youd never expect from those who once loved you. But kindness, a listening heart and just a little bit of patience can ease the hurt sometimes enough to bring even a dragon back home.