Mum Is Feeling Worn Out

Mum was tired

Clara was so loud with the cashier that the poor womans hands were trembling.

How long are you going to take?! If you cant do your job properly, why dont you just stay home!

Im sorry, the elderly woman mumbled, scanning the groceries even faster, though she was already quite quick.

Clara, her husband gently touched her elbow, thats enough, lets go.

She spun around sharply. You keep quiet! Did anyone ask you?

James looked away, guilt written all over his face, and fell silent. He always did.

***

The house smelt of roast chicken and herbs. His mother-in-law, Mrs. Edith Turner, was at the hob, stirring a pot.

Oh, youre home! Ive just got a nice chicken noodle soup going. Sit down, let me serve you something.

Ive asked you a hundred times not to mess about in my kitchen, Clara hissed. Are you living here now, or are you just supposed to be a guest?

Edith paled and lowered her spoon. I just wanted to help

I dont need your help! I can manage perfectly well on my own!

At that moment, their seven-year-old son, Billy, rushed in from the lounge.

Mum! Hi! So, Jack from Number 12 said Im weak, but Im not am I?

Not now! Clara snapped. Cant you see Im busy?

Billy froze, staring at his gran, who looked away quietly.

Clara stormed into the next room and slammed the door shut.

***

This was how it always went.

Every day blurred into the next. Clara woke up angry, went to bed angry, and spent the hours in between shouting at anybody in her path. Her husband, her mother-in-law, her son, the women in the shops, her colleagues, and even random strangers.

Every now and then, shed catch herself and think, Good lord, what am I doing? But the thought fell away into a dark emptiness, with no way out.

James tolerated it. He was used to it. Ten years of marriage had taught him one thing: keep quiet and dont rock the boat.

He took on two jobs, brought home his salary, and did whatever she asked. Some nights, when Clara had finally drifted off to sleep, hed creep out to the kitchen, make a cup of tea, and stare off at nothing in particular, just thinking.

Edith Turner had arrived three months ago, saying shed help with Billy while both parents were at work.

She agreed and, every day, caught those nasty looks Clara would shoot her way.

Billy he just got by. Hed run, play, and ask questions, but always came up against a wall when he approached his mother.

At first, hed burst into tears. But after a while, hed stopped. Hed settle next to Gran and sit in silence, finding it safer.

***

Friday brought the usual.

Clara came home in a storm: her boss had bawled her out, a coworker undermined her, and someone had inched onto her foot on the Tube.

Just before she arrived, Billy had spilled juice all over their new beige sofa one theyd only just finished paying off.

He stood there with the empty glass in hand, horrified by the spreading red stain.

What have you done?! Clara shrieked as soon as she walked in. Do you know how much this sofa cost us?!

I didnt mean to, Mum. Please dont shout. Im scared of you

Scared! Clara bristled with even more fury. All you ever do is break things and ruin everything! My lifes a nightmare because of you!

Mum, Im sorry

Go to your room! I dont want to see you!

Billy slunk away. Clara continued shouting into the empty flat until her throat was raw.

***

She didnt sleep that night. She wandered into the kitchen and sat by the window. Rain was drizzling outside.

She watched the droplets run down the glass, thinking how fed up she was with everything. She wished it would all just stop. That everyone would just leave her alone. To finally have some quiet.

At some point, she nodded off right at the kitchen table.

She woke up to a chill around four in the morning.

The flat was silent James was asleep, Edith was asleep, Billy was asleep.

Clara got up and headed for the bathroom. As she passed Billys room on her way back, she saw the door ajar. She peered in to check if hed kicked his covers off.

He was curled up, hugging his pillow. On the bedside table lay an open school notebook, its cover doodled with tanks.

Clara was about to leave, but caught sight of a page titled: Mum.

She picked up the notebook, sat on the edge of his bed, and began to read.

It was a diary.

The first entry was from September.

Mum yelled at me again today. Dad said she was just tired. I wanted to hug her but she pushed me away. Must be because Im a bad kid.

Clara swallowed. She turned the page.

October. Its Grans birthday today. I drew her a card with flowers. Wanted to give it to her this morning. But Mum was shouting at Dad so I didnt. I put it under my pillow. Maybe Ill give it to her tomorrow, when Mum isnt at home.

Next page.

November. I broke the toy car Dad gave me. On purpose. Thought if I broke something of my own, maybe she wouldnt shout. But she did anyway. Said I didnt value anything and that Im stupid.

Claras hands shook.

December. Christmas soon. I wrote a letter to Father Christmas. Asked if he could make Mum stop shouting. Shame you cant get that as a present.

January. We had to write who we want to be when we grow up at school. I wrote I want to be invisible, so Mum cant see me, so she wont shout. My teacher was surprised and rang Dad. He came in and talked to me. Said Mums not really bad, she just finds things hard. I know. I remember she used to cuddle me. She laughed. But she doesnt any more. She never laughs now.

The tears trickled down onto the notebook, smudging the ink.

February. I spilt juice on the sofa today. Mum shouted for ages. When she yells, I feel like Im dying piece by piece. First my ears, then my heart, then my soul. I lay there and closed my eyes. Wondered if I died in my sleep, would she cry? Or just shrug and say, Thats one less problem?

The notebook slipped from Claras hands. Her shoulders shook, but no sound came out. She was terrified Billy might wake and see her like this. She was afraid of everything.

She sat there for a long while. Twenty minutes, maybe an hour. Then she picked up the notebook, set it back and left.

Clara went to her own room and lay down beside James. She stared at the ceiling until dawn.

***

Billy was the first to wake that morning.

He opened his eyes, stretched, and sat up in bed. He saw the door was open, and remembered last night. He sighed.

He padded out to the corridor, listening. Silence. Strange usually by now Mum would be clattering crockery and yelling at everyone for being so lazy.

He peeked into the kitchen.

Mum was sat at the table. No shouting, no banging. Just sat there, gazing out the window. A mug of long-cold tea was in front of her.

Mum? Billy called softly.

She turned around. Her face looked different not angry, not tired, just something else. Billy couldnt put his finger on it.

Good morning, Clara said quietly. Come and eat.

He sat at the table. She placed a bowl of porridge in front of him and sat opposite.

Billy ate, glancing at her now and then, waiting for the usual. But nothing happened.

Mum, he said at last, whats up?

Nothing.

Why are you so quiet?

Im just thinking.

About what?

Clara looked at her son for a long while. Then she reached out and stroked his hair. Just because.

Thinking about you, she replied. About us.

Billy froze with the spoon in his mouth.

Mum, are you ill?

No, love. If anything Im getting better.

He didnt really understand, but he nodded anyway. It didnt matter just so long as she wasnt shouting.

Finish up, Clara said. Its time for school.

Billy drained his tea, got up and began to pack his things. He paused at the door.

Mum, he mumbled, tonight will you are you going to shout again?

Clara knelt beside him.

Listen to me, she said steadily. I dont know if I can do it or not. But I really am going to try not to shout. Ill try very hard. So you never have to be scared again, alright?

Billy nodded.

What if you do shout again? he whispered.

If I do, she smiled sadly, just say: Youre doing it again. And Ill remember.

Remember what?

Everything, she kissed his forehead. Now off you go.

Billy left.

Clara stood in the hall, listening for the clang of the lift doors. Then silence.

James wandered out, sleepy and dishevelled.

Youre up early, he remarked.

Couldnt sleep.

He eyed her closely.

You alright?

Im alright, Clara replied. Get some breakfast.

He walked through to the kitchen. Clara followed.

They sat at the table. James poured himself some tea.

James, Clara blurted suddenly, why do you love me?

He choked on his tea.

What?

Why do you love me? I Im a bit of a monster, arent I?

He set his mug aside and looked at her, long and hard.

Youre not a monster, he said. You just forgot who you are.

Who am I?

Youre all sorts, James smiled gently. I remember. You can be warm, hilarious, soft. You give the best bear hugs. I remember, Clara. Its you whos forgotten

Clara fell quiet.

I really do hope you find your way back, James added. And Ill wait as long as it takes.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it tight.

***

That day, for the first time, she shouted at no one.

Billy came home from school, dumped his bag and ran to hug her.

Mum, I got top marks today!

Well done, Clara said. Im proud of you!

He froze, staring in surprise.

Really?

Really.

Billy grinned wider than he had in ages.

Mum, you know today at school I hoped maybe youd hug me this evening. And you really did!

Silly boy, Clara squeezed him to her. Ill hug you every single day now!

***

That evening Clara went into his room. Billy was already asleep. The notebook was on his desk.

She picked it up, turned to the final page, pulled out a pen, and wrote beneath his lines:

My darling boy, I love you so much. Im so sorry. I promise Ill try my very best.
Mum.