He Slammed the Door Right in My Face “Mum, I know you don’t really love me…” Zoe froze, towel in…

Shut the Door in My Face

Mum, I know you dont love me

Mary paused, the tea towel still in her hands. Slowly, she turned towards her son. Ben stood in the doorway, glowering, hands stuffed deep in his pyjama pockets.

Pardon? Mary set the towel down. Whatever gave you that idea?

Gran said so.

Of course, Gran.

And what else did Gran say?

Ben stepped into the kitchen, chin up, stubbornness flashing in his blue eyes just like his father.

She said you left Dad because you didnt want me to have a proper family. A real one. That you wanted to ruin things for me, on purpose.

Mary gazed at her son. Nearly ten now. Two years theyd been on their own. Two years since Henry slipped out of Bens life without so much as a birthday card or a call. Jennifer, the ex-mother-in-law, on the other hand, dutifully saw her grandson every weekend, dripping poison into his ear with steady hands.

Ben, Mary tried to keep her tone level, you mustnt listen too much to what Gran says. She doesnt know everything.

She does! Bens voice rose. She knows everything! Youre the one who lies! If you cared about me, youd have kept the family together! You wouldnt have filed for divorce! You wouldnt have smashed everything!

Each word stung like a slap. Mary watched his lips tremble, the glimmer in his eyes he truly believed every word.

Ben

Dad would have stayed! Wed have all been together!

Your dad hasnt rung even once in two years, the words burst out before she could stop them. Not even once, do you hear?

Because you wont let him! Gran says you wont let him!

He turned and bolted from the kitchen. A moment later, a crash echoed from the hallway his bedroom door slammed.

Mary remained, staring at the table, half-folded towels in her hands. The ticking clock and thickening silence pressed in.

She slumped onto a stool, burying her face in her palms. Hot, angry tears came unbidden. Henry had been unfaithful, sneaking about for months with some girl from the office, and when Mary discovered the truth, he barely apologised. These things happen, hed shrugged. How was she meant to forgive that? How could she live with a man who lied so easily? And now Ben believed it was her who had torn them apart.

And Jennifer, that righteous guardian angel, spinning her web. Her precious boy could do no wrong it was always Mary, never patient enough, never willing to keep the peace for her childs sake.

Mary wiped her cheeks, staring at the dusky garden beyond the window. Nearly ten, he was, and he still didnt understand. He probably wouldnt for a long while yet.

Three days crawled by, endless and sticky. Ben hovered nearby ate breakfast, left for school, returned and did his homework but always behind an invisible pane of glass. Mary tried to talk about school a vague mumble, eyes fixed on the phone. Called him to dinner he came, ate in silence, gaze on his plate. Tried to hug him at bedtime he squirmed away, muttered good night and shut the door behind him.

Come Friday, Mary resolved: Enough. After work, she popped into Tesco, filling her basket to the brim a Black Forest gateau, crisps Ben was fond of, and a large ham and mushroom pizza. Maybe theyd watch a film together. Maybe theyd talk properly, like they used to.

She shoved open the door, lugged the bags into the kitchen.

Ben! Come and see what Ive brought!

Silence.

Ben?

She walked down the hall, nudging open his bedroom door. Empty. The bed was unmade, books scattered across the desk, rucksack gone. No sign of his coat on the peg, either.

Heart hammering, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number. Rings, then cut off. She fired off a message: Where are you? Please ring me. Blue ticks hed read it.

No reply.

She tried again. And again. The fifth time cut off.

Oh, for heavens sake

Her fingers fumbled, slipping on the screen. Another call. Again. The rings droned on.

Click.

Hello?

Ben! Mary clutched the phone. Where are you? Whats happened? Are you alright?

Im fine.

His voice was flat, too calm.

Where are you? Why did you go?

Im going to live with Dad. From now on, Im staying with him.

Mary froze mid-corridor.

What?!

Gran said Dad wanted me. He wanted me in court. But you insisted, and the judge left me with you. I dont want to live with you. Ill be better off with Dad.

Ben, wait

The phone clicked dead.

She tried again blocked. Once more phone switched off.

Panicking, she dashed around the flat, shoving arms into her coat, dropping her handbag, calling a taxi with trembling hands. She still remembered Henrys address by heart.

Twenty minutes, weeping at red lights and gnawing her nails.

The taxi pulled up at the block; Mary jumped out before the driver could offer her change, sprinted to the entrance and stopped dead.

On a damp bench by the doorway, Ben sat slumped. Jacket half open, rucksack drooped at his feet. His face was wet and splotchy, shoulders shaking.

He was crying.

Mary rushed to him, dropped to her knees on the cold pavement, and gripped his arms. The chill seeped through her jeans, but she couldnt have cared less.

Are you alright? Have you eaten? What happened? Why are you crying?

Her hands fluttered over his arms, his face, checking, checking alive, here, safe. His cheeks were frozen, nose bright red, lashes clumped with tears.

Ben looked up at her. His eyes, bloodshot and rimmed with deep hurt, made Marys throat tighten.

Dad sent me away.

Mary froze, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

What?

Hes living with someone new. They have a little baby, Ben sniffed, wiping his cheek with his sleeve, smearing tears and mud. He wouldnt let me in. He told me I shouldnt have come. Said I ought to go back to Mum. And and just shut the door. Right in my face.

Bens voice broke, and he looked away, shoulders shaking.

Mary pulled him close, clutching him to her, burying her face in his hair smelling of cold wind and Johnsons shampoo. Ben didnt push her away; for the first time in three days, he didnt resist. Instead, he clung to her coat, pressed his forehead into her shoulder.

Lets go, she whispered, once hed calmed a little. Well sort this out, once and for all.

The cab ride to Jennifers took fifteen more minutes. Ben stared silently out the window as Londons street lamps streamed by; Mary held his hand, his small, icy fingers in her own.

The door opened at once, as if Jennifer had been waiting. Dressing gown, curlers, fluffy slippers the picture of cosy English domesticity. Only her sharp eyes showed anything else.

Oh, so your mother dragged you here, did she? She wants to turn you against your father? Against me?

Ben stepped forward, over the threshold. Mary watched his back skinny and tense, still so childlike beneath a jacket he was about to outgrow.

Gran, Ben said, lifting his chin, and Mary heard something new older, stronger in his voice, have you lied to me?

Jennifer blinked, mask slipped for a heartbeat.

What? Benny, love, whatever are you talking about?

I went to Dads. He turned me away. Why?

Mary watched Jennifers face shift; saw the caring-grandmother mask falter, her gaze darting, searching for a lifeline, flicking between Ben and Mary.

Ben, its all your mothers fault

You said Mum stopped us talking. You said she wouldnt let Dad ring. That he missed me, wanted me. Bens fists clenched white. So why did he shut the door in my face? Why wouldnt he even speak to me? Why did he look at me like I was nothing to him?

You dont understand, hes busy, going through a difficult time just now

Or maybe Mum was right? Bens voice rose, and this time it was Jennifer who stepped back. That he doesnt want me? That he never cared about our family? Hes got a new wife, a new baby. All so happy. Why would he need me? Im just a spare piece, arent I?

Jennifer straightened, chin up, a bitter gleam in her eye.

She taught you to say that! she jabbed a finger at Mary. Your mother destroyed the family

Enough!

Ben shouted so loudly Mary flinched. The stairwell echoed with it.

Youre lying! Im sick of your lies! Two years, you spun stories about Dad and he never even called for my birthday. Not once! Im not coming here again. Dont call me. If Dads given up on me, Im finished with both of you. He turned, grabbed Marys hand. Come on, Mum. Lets go home.

Jennifer stood in the doorway, pale and slack-jawed. For the first time ever, Mary saw her looking small, confused, stripped of her usual armour of criticism and blame.

Goodbye, Mary said gently, and closed the door behind them.

At home, Ben ate two slices of cold pizza and drank three mugs of hot tea with raspberry jam. He sat huddled under a checked blanket on the sofa, quiet, his nose still pink. Night pressed in at the window, the lamplight laying soft shadows across his face.

Mum.

Yes, sweetheart?

Mary set down her cup, looking at her son at those narrow shoulders, his rumpled hair, and the stubborn crease still set between his brows.

Im sorry.

She drew closer. Bens voice was shaky.

You worked so hard for me, always doing your best. You worked, cooked, looked after me. I only listened to Gran, never to you. Ben glanced down, tugging at the blankets fringe. I wont do that again. Ill believe what I see myself. Not what everyone else says.

Mary smiled, edging closer, ruffling his hair. He didnt wriggle away. He leaned against her side, just as he had when he was small.

The lesson cost dearly maybe cruelly so. But, Mary thought as she pressed a kiss to his forehead, at last Ben had learned it.