Mum grew up in WWII England at a time when everything was rationed, which of course resulted in a flourishing black market. This was fine for those with money, but her dad was just an ordinary working stiff, and her Mum was a housewife and mother.
One day in early puberty, I saw something that changed my perception of her completely. I don't remember the reason, but I was on my hands and knees looking for something under Mum and Dad's bed. It was one of those big wrought iron beds with exposed springs underneath, and in the shadows I noticed something hanging from the springs on Dad's side. A closer look revealed it to be a freshly used condom, presumably from the night before, and Dad had clearly forgotten to dispose of it before he left for work that morning.
I knew about sex of course, or at least I thought I did, but like most kids it had simply never occurred to me that my own parents did 'it', but from then on I never again saw my Mum in quite the same light. Needless to say, Mum being Mum, she did what all mothers do and covered up whenever I was around.
When I was eleven I passed the exams to attend the high school where Mum was a teacher. Fortunately for me I was never in her classes, so none of the other kids saw the connection, other than remarking that we had the same surname. Something I hadn't expected was the way many of the older boys made lewd remarks about the lady teachers. It did annoy me a little when my Mum was referred to in such terms, but I soon got used to it, and at the same time I felt secretly proud that she was so attractive.
There was one particular bully boy who was always trying to big note himself, and I came close to fighting with him a couple of times when I thought he was overstepping the mark, except that he was way too big for me to handle. On one occasion, a bunch of us were standing around in the schoolyard, and as usual the subject came round to sex. We all listened enviously when one said he spied on his older sister and her boyfriend once. Needless to say another boy had to go one better, and claim he had barged into the bathroom when his Mum was washing herself. Of course everyone wanted to know if he saw anything, but before he could say, the bully boy chimed in by boasting about his own mum. We all knew what he was like, so we all laughed, which only made him more defensive. That was when he said what almost made me smash him in the mouth. The only thing that saved him was that he didn't realise how ridiculous he sounded to all of us.
According to him, my Mum, Mrs. Harris, had singled him out to help her tidy the stock room one day after school. He went on to say something about pink panties. Even though he was aware that we all knew it was all in his imagination, he tried to become a lot more graphic, but the way we were all laughing at him shut him up. Out of respect for my Mum I won't go into detail, except to say that 'filthy slut' was about the mildest term used. As soon as he stopped talking, he realised he had gone too far. Some of the guys became really angry, and told him to shut his filthy mouth, because in those days teachers were held in the highest esteem. There were teachers who may not be popular with some students, but every one of them was respected, so to even hint that one would act improperly was not only preposterous, but the gravest possible insult. It was tantamount to telling a guy his mother or sister was a prostitute.
I was so incensed that I almost blurted out that Mrs. Harris was my Mum, so I knew for a fact that whatever he was implying was a bald faced lie. Such a disclosure would raise questions which I most certainly did not want to answer. It was quite feasible that a boy might catch a glimpse of his mother, when dressing or showering or whatever, but saying so meant that questions would be asked. In the teenage mind, this might imply that I had seen more than I should, but I was not about to say one way or the other.
This would show her in a bad light, and since teenage boys are as bad as girls when it comes to embroidering and spreading scandalous gossip, it wouldn't take long for word to reach other teachers. More questions would be asked, and If Mum was even suspected of interacting inappropriately with a minor, especially her son, police would be called and Mum would lose her job, or worse still have to answer the accusations in court. Regardless of the outcome, mud sticks, and Mum would have lost the respect of staff and students. Fortunately a couple of boys who were bigger and braver than me, told the bully outright that he had crossed the line, and in future he was to stay away from our group.
When I was nineteen, I injured my leg playing football, and needed surgery. In the hospital I hit it off with one of the nurses, a beautiful brunette named Andrea, and after I was discharged we started dating. Less than a year later we married and I left home. We had only been married fourteen months, when Dad succumbed to the lung disease that had seen him pensioned off from the armed services. It was a difficult time for Mum, being without the man she had married when she was only sixteen and heavily pregnant, and she found it hard to cope on her own. She was becoming more despondent every day, and when I suggested that she make her three bedroom government house available for a young family, in exchange for a small easy to maintain bedsitter, she reluctantly agreed.
The move proved to be a catalyst, because although she never stopped mourning Dad's passing, away from the ghosts and memories she began to regain her old zest.
Her new place was not far from where I was living, so I dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat several times a week after work, and to check she was OK. When she was in her early to mid forties she started having chest problems, so I convinced her to see her doctor. Three weeks later she was admitted to hospital for a coronary bypass. After she was discharged, I brought her home with me, so that my wife Andrea and I could monitor and manage her recovery, but within six months she began yearning for her independence. Against my better judgement I agreed to let her move back into her flat, although I insisted on keeping up my visits.
