Mandy’s story

We have this wonderful relationship, my daughter and me. I listen intently to her woes and worries and she totally ignores the advice that she has asked for. I think I’m going to start every conversation I have with her in future with, “What don’t you want me to tell you?”
She introduced me the boyfriend whilst they were at college, the on-off relationship lasted over several years. He wasn’t, I might add my favourite person, so when he did something unspeakable, no really, it was beyond unspeakable, and she dumped him, I was grateful for small mercies.
How do you think I felt when I got the news that she was not only seeing him again, but that they were moving in together? Mamma Bear had to do something and fast. But I didn’t, of course I didn’t. As a modern mother, I sat back and held my tongue and issued the line of, “If you are sure it’s what you want, you know I’m here for you if you need me.” After all they have to make their own mistakes.
It didn’t stop me from cornering him in the car park and telling him in no uncertain terms that if he hurt my daughter again I would, quote, unquote, grab him by the balls, pull the small spherical objects out from wherever he was hiding them and unceremoniously feed them to him, raw. No one would believe him, after all, as a little old lady, how could I possibly go around issuing threats to a young man.
Then the day came. I was sitting quietly on the throne, jodhpurs around my ankles, smelling sweetly of manure, when the phone rang. I ignored it. Don’t we all when we have that quiet moment. I have never understood the practice of taking the phone into the bathroom with me, unless of course I am deep in conversation with my husband. Next time I must check that he hasn’t got it loud speaker at work!
No, no, it’s OK, I’m listening, calm down, tell me that again.
He what?
Did he now? If I ever.
Oh, that’s Ok then. What did the police say?”
I put the phone down and rung the husband, “I’m going
I know, but
I’ll see you
I don’t know.”
Having quickly showered and dressed I began throwing things in a suitcase. I was furious, I was going to kill him, or find a man who could.
The phone rang again, “Hello, it’s alright sweetheart, I’m coming down.
Oh, you’re not there.
You’re staying with a friend.
I see, OK, but you keep me informed.”
I rang my husband back, “I’m not going,
I know that
But she’s Ok
No there is no use in you getting involve.
Have I told my brother? God forbid, he’d kill him
No, I’ll let you know
That’s Ok, yes, see you later.”
And so, I waited. Have you ever noticed how, if you have lots of things to do, you never do anything whilst you are waiting?
The day came and went, no phone call. The husband came home, we discussed the issue in great length and it was explained to me that I couldn’t just go out and buy a sawn-off shotgun as they do in the movies. Life was a bit more complicated than that.
The next day I woke up to a cold feeling, like something terrible had happened. I looked at my phone. Three missed called from an unknown number.
I rang the number.
“Hello, hello, can I help you, you rang
Your Mandy’s friend, I see, where is she?
She’s been arrested, I don’t understand, she told me that he had thrown her down the stairs, she has been battered by him.
No, really, Oh, ok thank you for telling me. Where is she again?
Ok I will. No not a problem, thank you.”
As I sat at the end of the bed a bleary-eyed husband perched himself up on his elbows. “Who was that?”
“That was Mandy’s friend.”
“Yer, what did she have to say?”
“He, what did he have to say?”
“Mandy’s been arrested.”
“Arrested, what for?”
We looked at each other and the realisation clicked in all at once.
“What on Earth has that girl done to him?” my husband was suddenly wide awake.
“Well,” I began and I recited the story as told by Mandy’s friend.
It seems that the police went to fetch her boyfriend from his parents’ house to charge him with assault, but when they got there he wasn’t there. A neighbour told them that his parents had been called to the hospital. Mandy may have had a few bumps and bruises, but the boyfriend had a broken arm and there was talk of charging her with actual bodily harm. I was concerned for my daughter and turned to face Mark, who was grinning from ear to ear.
“It’s no laughing matter,” my blood began to boil.
“Oh, come on,” he laughed, “Can’t you just see it, she goes tumbling down the stairs and gets up and batters the living daylights out of him. The 5ft ninja faces the 6ft wimp.”
Mark was in full giggle fits, I on the other hand was furious with him.
“Like mother, like daughter,” a full belly laugh filled the room.
I have to admit, a wave of pride passed over me, before it dawned on me that my daughter was about to get a criminal record.
Needless to say, she didn’t. They dropped all charges and put it down to a domestic dispute, Mandy was told to be a good girl and the boyfriend was told to stay away from her.
I won’t lie to you, I did do a fist pump and a very quiet, “Yes”, when we picked her up from the station. “That’s my gal, I thought, she doesn’t need her mum to fight her battles anymore.”

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