The Keys

“I love him! And youre lecturing me about nonsense! Im not listening to any more of this! Youre just jealous, thats why you keep sticking your nose in! Just leave me alone, will you? Go sort yourself out!”

Rebecca wasnt just raising her voiceshe was yelling so loudly that even Mr. Jenkins, their almost-deaf neighbour, turned from tinkering with his car outside his garage to listen. He wasnt the meddling type either, so that only meant one thing: Rebecca was seriously losing it.

And, as far as she was concerned, she had good reason.

Falling in love was like a state of being for Rebecca. If there were ever breaks in between, they were so brief only her nearest and dearest would notice. And there were only two of thoseher mum and her sister. Her mum had passed, and her sister, Harriet, simply refused to get Rebecca anymore.

Without that magical state of being-in-love, Rebecca felt like shed stopped living and was only going through the motions. Her gaze became blank, her thoughts scattered, shed lose focus at work, to the point that her colleagues started giving her a wide berth, muttering things like:

“Dear, maybe you need something to help you relax? Youve been a bit much lately, Becky.”

Becky would purse her lips, grit her teeth and think dark thoughts about these other women.

Easy for them to say! They all have their nice, neat lives: adoring husbands, kids running around, homes full of noise and laughter and what about her? No husband, no home to call her own, and none of that looks like its ever going to change. She had her son, Tom, sure, but he wasnt exactly thriving. Poor lad never quite measured up to his cousinsHarriets three were worlds ahead, much to Beckys dismay. The eldest, Charlie, was a star on the football pitch and top of his class, making a mockery of the stereotype that if youre good at sport youre rubbish academically. The youngest, Emily, sang and danced onstage, her troupe forever off to this competition and that festival. At not quite ten, Emily had seen more of life than her aunt ever had.

It stung. Why should things turn out that way? Becky had done activities as a girl tooclubs, teams, schemesbut she never really shined at anything, mostly because she never stuck with anything for long. Her heart just wasnt in it. If she was bored, she left, on to the next thing. Thats how youre supposed to live, isnt it? Listen to the voice inside. There wont be another go-round, and no one brings joy on a silver platter: “Here you are, Becky! Help yourself, love. All just for you!”

Becky had learned that lesson early. Shed watch as Harriet slaved over her books while she was off out to discos:

“Careful, Harry, youll learn too much! No boyll ever marry you if you outsmart them. Didnt Gran always say a woman shouldnt be smarter than her husband? See, none of the boys even look at you!”

“And goodwhy would I want them to? And thats not even what Gran said!”

“It was, I swear!”

“Youve got her words all wrong. Gran said a clever woman would never show her superiority to a man if she loved him. Theres a difference, surely?”

“Oh, dont start! Help me do my hair, will you? Olivers waiting for me!”

Rebecca would dash off on a date, while Harriet curled up on the sofa with a book. Two blissful hours of peace and quiet for the house.

She loved her sister, Harriet, of coursewhat else? They only had each other in the end. And Rebecca knew her sister just as Harriet knew her. Rebecca wasnt meanjust a bit flighty, unsure, sensitive. But not cruel. She was actually softer than Harriet, really. Rebecca was always bringing stray cats and dogs home, begging her parents to let her keep them. Both cats and the one scruffy mongrel she rescued, sobbing and pleading, ended up living long and surprisingly happy lives, thanks to Beckys care. The only rule was: no more strays, were not a zoo. Rebecca took her responsibilities seriously, never asking Harriet for help with walking the dog or cleaning up after the cats. She did it, and sometimes it even seemed like she loved the animals more than she did most people.

“Becky, Mum asked if you can go see Gran, give her a hand round the flat.”

“You go, cant you? Ive got stuff going on!”

“What stuff?”

“Why do you care? Important stuff. Timmys limping. Ive got to take him to the vet.”

“Hes been limping for days.”

“So? You want me to forget about Timmys paw just so I can go mop Grans kitchen? Shell manageand besides, Timmy cant speak for himself!”

Theyd argue, stomp in separate directions; Harriet would go off to help Gran, and Rebecca would get dressed up for a night out, with poor Timmy the cat just an excuse.

The sisters left school in very different ways: Harriet with flying colours, Rebecca, wellshe scraped by, nothing special.

As for what to do with her lifeRebecca had always dreamed of baking. She loved cakes and fancy pastries ever since she was little. She could stand for ages staring at the cake shop display. Oddly enough, she didnt care that much for eating them, she just liked to look, then go home and make pretend ones out of Play-Doh for Harriet. Her heart had a sweet tooth, but her head was always chasing something new.

The sisters went different directions after school. Harriet moved in with their Gran, who needed help for her increasingly frail health. It worked for everyoneGran got cared for, Harriets college was only round the corner, and she could sleep in for once. Mostly, it meant peace. Gran adored Harriet and soon met her new boyfriend, Mark.

“Stay as long as you want, loveroom for everyone here!”

The wedding was small but joyous, and the newlyweds stayed on with Gran. There was no secret about the future of the flat.

“Its only right, Harry. Rebecca can have your Granddads old bedsit. That one in the shared house. And you and Markyou get this flat. I wish I could meet your children, thatd mean the world”

Gran got her wish; she even held her great-grandson soon after he was born. But when Charlie turned two, Gran passed away. That last year, she fought against a stroke, desperate to get her speech back, but her heart just gave up. Harriet wept bitterly at the funeral. Her daughter deserved the flat, everyone agreed.

Rebecca didnt mind either, not at firstshe was swept up in a new romance, and couldve cared less who got what. She was in love!

Well, sort of. Youd hardly call it proper love. Rebecca was wild with passion, while her bloke barely noticed her. He was fine with Rebecca coming over, cooking, tidying, and doing his laundry, but never letting her stay the night.

“Im an old bachelor, Becky. Set in my ways.”

Hed roll his eyes as he asked her to sort his “art studio” then gently send her on her way.

“Art, my dear, demands sacrifices. I need to dedicate myself to it! My life is just so full, you see? Love, obligations, work, everything coming at once! Im flat out!”

Rebecca would sigh, remembering her lopsided portrait collecting dust in the corner. No one had painted her before, and it meant the world to know shed inspired anyone.

She only got to keep the portrait after announcing she was pregnant.

Shed been walking down the sunny high street, giddy with hopes and plans, barely able to breathe for joy. A new life, a miracle, at just the right time.

But when she told him, he went cold, shut down her joyful speech:

“What baby? Are you mad?!”

The ending was disappointingly ordinarya few harsh words, then nothing. Rebeccas dreams collapsed with a quiet snap, fragments so sharp and tiny not even a master restorer could piece them back. Her pride, completely shredded, was left for her alone to mourn. She just nodded and asked if she could take the silly portrait.

“For a keepsake”

He generously agreed. That evening, Rebecca tore it to bits and muttered: “Ill be all right! You? Not so much!”

She never learned what became of him, nor did she want to. There was enough to deal with. The baby, Tom, was born, but Rebecca never quite found joy in motherhood. She looked for traces of his fatherhis “brilliance”and found nothing. Tom was quiet, self-contained, and distinctly uncreative. He played football with the boys in the street and went to chess club on his own after school.

“Whats so interesting about that? Chess is boring!” Rebecca would cry.

But Tom found chess anything but dull. To him, the game was like a graceful dancesometimes, when analysing an especially clever match, hed pirouette quietly around the room to music only he could hear. But only if his mother wasnt there. She didnt approve of “dancing boys.”

“Dancing isnt for lads! Stop it!”

The only one who understood Tom was his little cousin, Emily. The tension between the grown-up sisters made no sense to the kids, but their Gran always said familys family, and you dont give up on that. He never quite got why his mother couldnt see the gift of having a caring aunt, but he kept his Grans words close. He got on fine with Charlie, but it was Emily he truly loved. She listened wide-eyed to his talk of beautiful, logical music and all his secret dreams.

“Can you hear it?” Emily would ask Tom.

“Yeah. Its so quiet, but beautiful”

“I think I hear it, too. Wait, let me show you!”

And Emily would twirl around, miming the secret music, and Tom knewhe wasnt alone after all.

But kids dont choose their own company. It all depends on grown-ups moods, and Rebeccas moods were changeable at best. If shed fallen out with Harriet (which was often), shed ban Tom from seeing his cousins.

Tom was helpless in the face of this, left to fight back in the only ways he couldwith sulks, hunger strikes, and silent protests, just waiting for his mum to give in:

“Oh, do whatever you want! Im tired of your whining!”

Tom never really learned why his mum and aunt fell out. He didnt know Harriet had helped out after he was born, only to be pushed away after another of Rebeccas failed flings, when she discovered how Gran had left her flat.

“Its not fair! Im just as much her granddaughter as you!”

“I never asked for the flat, Becky! We could sell it and split it. I dont want us to fight!”

“Keep your handouts! Gran always loved you more! Thats why she left you everything! No ones ever loved me!”

“Thats not true, Becky! What about me, or Mum and Dad?”

“If you loved me, youd understand! Do you think I care about the stupid flat? I just wanted someone to love me for once!”

“Becky”

“Just leave it! I dont want to hear any more!”

The grudge settled between the sisters, nesting comfortably, plucking out scraps of resentment and old memories to build itself up.

Look, Beckyremember when Harriet got that doll? Just like yours, but her dress was pink and yours was green. Petty, but you wanted the pink one, didnt you? She wouldnt swap! Mean thing! Or when she got the mascara you begged for, and you were ignored. And then she got a nice bloke, her own flat, great job, children nothing like your quiet, odd Tom All little bricks, Becky. Thats the house of your hopes, all crooked, half-built, and lonely, because everything that would have made it liveable went to your sister instead! And is she really better than you? Of course notshes got no spark! She doesnt know what it feels like to live life boldly, to love properly! Not the safe version she has with Mark, but real lovethe kind you know, Becky! The kind with the key to happiness, doled out to very few! Think Harriet has a clue about that? Not a chance.

Harriet got pangs of resentment too, but not as deeply. Maybe she just had fewer bad memories, or maybe her heart was just tuned differently. Her own nest was wobblya couple of loose twigs, and none too sturdy. On Beckys end, it was solid as a bunker. Harriet would try, often, to patch things up, gasping for breath after Rebeccas latest:

“Youre no sister! Who does that to their own?!”

Shed feel like a fish on a riverbankher sister right there, but unreachable. It was so easy to sever the tie, but nearly impossible to rebuild it.

Then, as fate would have it, the sisters lost both parents within the same year, one after the other, as if theyd planned it. The grief drowned them.

“Harry, how can this be?! They were so young! They had years left!”

“Life doesnt ask, Becky. And health is the only thing you can never keep by willpower alone. We did what we could, the rest not up to us…” Harriet hugged her hysterical sister.

“Its not right! So unfair!”

“Well, lifes never been fair. It just seems like it should reward everyone in turn, but really”

“Yeah, youre right. Really its nothing like that”

Harriet signed over her share of the inheritance to give Becky some peace. Rebecca busied herself with paperwork for the family flat.

“I half expected you to nab that as well,” Becky muttered, fiddling with her coat hood, not meeting Harriets eyes. They were waiting outside the solicitors for Mark to pick them up.

“Why, Rebecca? Were family.”

“I dont know, Harry. We may be sisters, but youve never understood me.”

“And youve never understood me. So what? How important is that really?”

“It is important!” Rebecca waved her hands. “If people dont get each other, whats the point?”

“Maybe just to keep trying? Nothing in this life comes for free, and you know it!”

“Oh yes, I know it, Harry, believe me! You have it so easyhusband, house, kids. Im alone. Always alone!”

“Youre not fair, Becky All right, dont count me, but what about Tom?”

“What about Tom? He does his own thing! Hes old enough now. I barely see himI work all hours, and hes always out or at yours!”

“Hes comfortable here. Its peaceful for him”

“Exactly! Thats my point, Harriet, youre impossible! Stop acting like Im a bad mother, what have I ever done to you?!”

“Rebecca, dont shout! When did I ever call you a bad mother? Youre making things up!”

“Youre always on about how brilliant your kids are! And mewell, not so much. Toms not like them! And if youre so sick of having him around”

“For goodness sake, Becky! Listen to yourself!”

When Mark arrived, Harriet was in tears, alone on the curb. “Why is she like this with me? What did I do wrong?”

He hugged her, trying to help, muttering, “Shes got a nasty temper. Life hasnt softened her yet.”

Harriet stopped crying. “Dont say that, Mark! What if something did happen? I do feel sorry for her”

“Thats good,” Mark replied. “You pity her. Shell never understand who really loves her. Maybe she never will.”

“Maybe. But shell always be my sister. And Ill always love her, whether she notices or not,” Harriet said, wiping away her tears. “No one else will. Toms just a boy.”

Better a cold peace than a raging war. Harriet did everything to keep the line between them from snapping. The thread was thinner than ever, but it was still there, and she wouldnt let it break.

Men drifted in and out of Rebeccas life, none leaving marks except regret and confusion. She wantedachinglyto give someone her all, to be that special woman for someone. She moulded herself to suit each new partner, learned their hobbies: if they were into fishing, shed be up at dawn with a rod and a flask; if it was hiking, shed buy boots and learn all the footpaths of Surrey. Desperately, she tried handing someone the keys to her happiness, but, oddly enough, no one really wanted them.

During Rebeccas romances, Tom spent most of his days at Harriets. Neither Mark nor Harriet minded. He was part of the family. In Charlies room, the boys had bunkbeds, and Mark had built a desk big enough for their two computers; theyd game together, shouting:

“Emily, thats not fair! Youre too fastlets team up! Its pointless playing against you!”

Harriet, updating her sister on Toms progress, would sigh, “Hes so clever, Becky! We should think about a specialist maths school.”

“Hell be fine where he is. Handy that he and Charlie are at the same place. You can keep an eye!”

“Its a long trek if hes sleeping at yours. Hes knackered half the time.”

“Let him stay with you for a bit then. You know how things are for me. Im only just finding my feet.”

“All right, thats fine. He can stay.”

“Thanks! Daniel is greathes wonderful with Tom, and wants us to be a real family!”

“Has he proposed, then?”

“Not yet, but you can tell its coming! Please, dont make trouble. Help me! This could be my one shot at happiness!”

“Of course, Becky.”

Though the truth was, Harriet didnt like Daniel much. Arrogant, a bit full of himself, his humour always uneasy. He seemed at times to mock or even insult. Mark and Harriet werent worried for themselves, but for Tomand Rebecca, who was utterly besotted, not seeing her son gradually withdrawing, happier with Harriets family.

Harriet looked out for Tom, tried not to argue with her sister, but trouble was bound to come. From the very start, it was obvious Daniel was only interested in one thing.

Harriet learned about Daniel pressuring Rebecca to sell her parents house by accident.

Coming home from work, tired already, she saw the boys muddy shoes scattered everywherethe hall was a dump. Even Emilys boots were filthy.

“Boys! Whos home? It looks like a bombs gone off!”

Emilys head poked out of the boys room, then ducked back.

“Mum”

“Whats up, love? You look oddwhats happened?”

“Mummy, promise you wont get upset Tomwell, dont worry, weve given him ice, but it still looks awful”

Harriet ran for the boys room.

Tom was lying on the top bunk, turned to the wall, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swelling cheek.

“Tommy,” Harriet murmured, “what happened?”

“Nothing,” came the muffled, hurt reply.

He never hid things from Harriet before. He even told her when he was upset with his mother.

She climbed the ladder and slid in beside him, gently touching the bruising under his eye. “Daniel?”

Tom turned into her, silent tears rolling down his face. He knew Harriet would understand. After all, what sense was there in protecting a mother who let a grown man smack him, twisting her arm, snarling at Tom:

“Who do you think you are, boy? Dont butt in when adults are talking. Wipe your nose!”

That mask had slipped for Tom. He saw Daniel as he really wasnot in love with his mum, but after something else. As Emily would say:

“When someone loves you, it shows, Tom. Its really not complicated.”

“It is”

“Strange. You can see music, I know you can.”

“Can I?”

“I think so! You feel it, hear it Love is like music. When you hear it, you know exactly what step comes next, how to move”

“Not everyone gets it, though”

“You think your mum can hear it?”

“She cant see it or hear it. She wants to, but she just cant.”

“I feel sorry for her”

“Me too”

Hed launched himself at Daniel to defend his mum. It didnt end well. Next thing Tom knew, his mum looked at himscared and whispering, “Tommy, whyd you do that?”

She said nothing more. Tom would never have listened anyway. The pain in his chest was sharp as shattered glassit was agony. He picked himself up and took refuge at Harriets, where he didnt have to hide his tears. Daniel taunted him whenever he showed any emotion:

“Be a man! Whats with the waterworks? Clean up after yourself!”

When hed calmed down, Tom packed his schoolbooks and his new hoodie (gift from Harriet), and left for his aunts. That was where he belonged.

Harriet, after hearing Toms story, rang her sister at once, struggling to steady herself, knowing a row wouldnt help. Tom loved his mother. For her to choose a man over her own child that wasnt on.

No reply. She rang Mark.

“Where are you? Goodstay in the car. Take me to Beckys, Im coming down.”

Sending the kids off to keep Tom company, Harriet ran out as she was.

“Whats going on?” Mark frowned as Harriet slid into the car. “Ill explain on the waylets go!”

The conversation with Rebecca was a disaster from the start. Rebecca was in tears in the car park, Daniel having packed up and stormed out, slinging insults over his shoulder.

“You dont understand! I love him!” she wailed, refusing to answer Harriets questions, unable to justify what had happened.

“Who, Rebecca? The man who hit your son? Has all sense left your head? How many timeshow many chances at happiness have you had right under your nose? What about Tom? Why do you betray him like that? Hes your boy!”

“Hes not even my son anymorehes yours! You stole him! Hes never home! Wont speak to me! All our problems are your fault! You took everything!”

“What did I take?”

“My life! My keys!”

“What keys?” Harriet paused, suddenly seeing them both as if from outsidetwo grown women, shouting in a car park. Was this what their parents wanted for them, what Gran had taught them? Where had all the love gone? Were they really about to snap the last frail tie between them forever?

Her voice came out calm and gentle:

“What keys, Becky? What do you mean?”

“The keys to happiness” Rebeccas voice was small now, as she wiped away tears. “You have them! And I never did.”

For the first time, Harriet began to understand. She took a deep breath, stepped up to Rebecca and pulled her into a hug, just like their mum used to do.

“Come here! Oh, Becky, you silly goose”

“What, stupid? Is that what you mean?” Rebecca tried to break away, but Harriet held on even tighter.

“No! Dont say that. Youre just fragile, Becky. Gentle. You never seem to get enough love, and I understand that a bit, I really do. But Ill never understand how you could choose anyone over your own son. Thats not right. And you know it! As for keys I never took yours. Sorting out my own is hard enough. Why would I want more? But I suppose there is a difference between us.”

“What kind?” Rebecca eventually relented and hugged Harriet back, hiding her face in her sisters shoulder.

“Youre always trying to give your keys away to someone else, but I keep mine safe.”

“So which is right?”

“I dont know. Well see, I suppose.”

“I think I got my answer” Rebecca sniffed. “How do I go on? No one needs me.”

“I do. Isnt that enough? Tom does, too. Still not enough?”

“Im not sure”

“Well, at least try to start with that. The rest will come, Becky.”

“And if it doesnt?”

“Then maybe youre just trying your keys in the wrong door, and itll never open. But the right door for youwill remain locked forever if you give up. You want to spend your whole life stuck in the corridor?”

“No!”

“Good girl! Will you go see Tom?”

“Hell never forgive me”

“Come on, Becky! That lad knows more about life than either of us. But it wont be easyhes hurt.”

“I know”

“Well, do something about it! Youre his mum, not some distant aunt!”

“Harriet!”

“What? Get in the car! Mark, pass her some tissuestheres a pack in the glove box. Right, lets gokids are waiting!”

Tom did get a stepdad in the end, but much later. And Rebecca finally found what shed always looked for. Tom chose to keep living with Harriet, preferring her home to his mums new flat (now with a baby sister crying through the night). But Rebecca finally did her best to make sure her son knew he was loved and wanted. The man she ended up with proved wiser than her, giving Tom time and space to build trustand in the end, it was stronger than anything blood alone could make.

When Tom left for university, he hugged everyone tightly at the station, then gripped his stepdads hand and said simply,

“Look after Mum, will you?”

The tall man, greying at the temples, nodded gravely.

“And you look after yourself, son. Well be herewaiting.”

“I know,” Tom replied, with a smile.