FAMILY MATTERS?

Monday, 28th November

I woke to the shrill ring of my mobile, my daughters voice cracking with panic. Mum, could you get Christopher straight away? All three of the little ones have a fever and are whinging. I cant get them to the surgery on my own. Please, if you could drive over and help The words tumbled out before I could even think of a polite reply.

A knot twisted tighter in my chest as I imagined my sister Eleanor, alone in her flat, trying to keep three sick toddlers under control while her husband was stuck at work. I forced a calm tone, though every fibre of my being trembled. Ill sort it, love. Dont worry. My fingers fumbled for his number in the contacts list, my mind racing through the desperate scenario: three ailing children, Eleanor on her own, her husband none the wiser. The situation felt unbearable.

The first call went straight to voicemail, then the second, and finally Christopher answered, his voice brisk as ever. Mum, hello.

Chris, love, its a bit of a crisis, I began, trying to choose the right words. Eleanor just called. All three of her toddlers are ill, and she cant get them to the doctor. Her husband is at work and cant take time off. Could you drive down and take the kids? It shouldnt take long.

Silence settled over the line, heavy and uneasy. In the background I could hear the faint hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a dog.

Mum, todays the day, Christopher sighed, Emilys birthday. We booked a table at The Ivy two weeks ago. The journey to Eleanors place across town is already a long one, and we wont make it back in time for the reservation. Im sorry, but I cant make it.

My hand tightened around the phone, my palm slick with sweat. Was he really turning his back on his own family?

Chris, you cant be hearing this! The children are sick! Theyre your niece and nephew! Eleanor cant manage three fussy toddlers on her own. They need a doctor now! I fought to keep my voice from cracking.

I understand, Mum, he said, flat as a board, but we have plans. We cant cancel everything because of this. Maybe call a taxi? Or you and your husband could help. Whats the problem?

My legs trembled as I sank into the kitchen chair. The words seemed to mock me. Dads at work! I blurted, no longer able to hold back. I cant possibly look after three sick children by myself! Dont you see the basics here?

My apologies, Mum, he replied sharply, but thats not my problem. The children are Eleanors responsibility. Shell have to sort it herself.

A wave of fury surged through me. How can you say that? This is your family! Your sister! You cant just refuse to help a relative once in a pinch!

Ive told youI cant. Were getting ready to go, so Im sorry, he cut off, ending the call.

The short beeps of the hungup tone rang in my ears. I stared at the blank screen, my hands shaking. I dialed again, hoping for a different answer, but there was only silence.

My mind blazed with anger. How could my own son be so cold? I tried Eleanors husbands number next, then finally called my daughterinlaw, Emily.

Hello, Margaret? Emily answered almost immediately.

Emily, darling, I forced a gentle tone, why havent you asked Christopher to help? These are his nephews! Eleanors struggling alone. You understand, dont you? Youre a woman, after all.

Emily exhaled, her voice calm, almost indifferent. Margaret, the childrens parents are supposed to look after them. There are taxis, theres an NHS ambulance if its urgent. Theyre not babies any more. Eleanor is an adult; shell manage.

Her words cut deeper than Christophers refusal. Emily, do you even realise what it means to take three sick, squalling toddlers in a taxi? I snapped, the dam finally breaking. Theyre tiny! Eleanor cant do it by herself!

Its her children, Margaret, Emily replied, still detached. We have our own evening plans. We dont want to ruin them over other peoples problems.

Rage flared again. Then you cant even ask our future children for help! I shouted, slamming the handset down.

The days that followed drifted like a fog. I didnt call Christopher again; he stayed silent. I tried not to dwell on the incident, but the wound festered, refusing to heal.

At night I lay awake, replaying the conversation. How could my son act like that? Had I failed as a mother? Had I raised such a callous man?

My husband tried to talk to me a few times, but I brushed him off. I felt I had to sort this out myself, to understand where things went wrong.

On the fourth evening, my patience snapped. I decided I had to see Christopher facetoface, to look him in the eye and demand an explanation.

Emily opened the front door, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she stepped aside quietly. I walked in without even taking off my coat.

Wheres Christopher? I asked sharply.

Hes in his room, Emily said, pointing toward the hallway.

I pushed open the door. Christopher looked up, his eyes meeting mine for a brief, fleeting moment before his expression hardened.

Mum? Whats happened? he asked, raising an eyebrow.

How could you? I shouted, my voice cracking, the words of four days finally bursting out. How could you turn away from sick children? From your own sister? I didnt raise you to be selfish and coldhearted!

He stood slowly, his face calm, almost detached. Mum, you could have called a taxi yourself. I could have gone to Eleanor, helped with the kids. Im not supposed to drop everything at the first call.

He paused, fixing his gaze on me. Do you remember how Eleanor started to keep her distance from us after we bought that flat? Shes been speaking badly about people ever since.

What? Since we bought the house? She never answers the phone, shes always out with a scowl. And now, when help is needed, shes a stranger to us? I stammered, choking on my own words.

She lives in a rented flat with three kids, Christopher said. You and Emily have your own twobedroom house, no children. Of course shes upset. Shes not welcome in our lives, and you never told us she was even in trouble.

Emily crossed her arms, her expression as flat as ever. She talks a lot, says nasty things about us. The flat isnt our business.

My sister your sister has a family of her own now, Christopher continued, his voice cold. We built this house with our own hard work. No one helped us. She should sort her own problems out.

I stepped closer, fists clenched automatically. What are you saying? Shes your sister! Shes family! This is our family!

No, Mum, Christopher raised his voice, my family is Emily. Eleanor should have thought ahead. She chose to have three kids, she isnt forced to have them. Im not obligated to drop everything for her right now.

Youre selfish! I shrieked. You only think of yourself! Your sister can barely cope, and you cant even lend a hand once!

Help? he smirked. Why should I help someone who hasnt spoken to me for six months? We stopped talking after the flat purchase. How could you not see that?

He lowered his voice, almost whispering. Youre always only worried about Eleanor. Its always been that way. I feel like an empty space in your life.

Youre heartless! I snapped, turning away, my strength draining. I didnt raise you like this, Christopher! I taught you to look after each other!

I fled the flat, stopping on the landing, breath ragged, heart pounding. The hallway seemed to blaze with a fire I could not extinguish. How could my own son speak to me like that?

The cold night air hit my face as I walked to the bus stop, the wind biting but not easing my thoughts. I kept replaying the conversation, wondering where I had gone wrong. Had I been too focused on Eleanor, ignoring Christophers own life? Had I expected him to be a hero on demand?

I boarded the minibus, stared out the window at the passing houses, the familiar streets of Surrey. Life went on outside, but inside me something had cracked irreparably.

I didnt know if I could ever mend this. Whether Christopher would ever forgive me, or if I could ever forgive his coldness. The road ahead felt uncertain, the future hazy.

The bus jolted over a pothole, and I closed my eyes, hoping tomorrow might bring some clarity, some kinder words. Perhaps the family could still be a family again. Or perhaps the damage was already done.