**Shadows of Shattered Joy: A Drama on the Outskirts of Brighton**
In the chilly kitchen of an old house on the outskirts of Brighton, Edna Penrose sat clutching a cup of cold tea in her trembling hands. Her eyes, brimming with perpetual disapproval, tracked her daughter-in-law, Emily, loading boxes into a battered car outside. Little Lily, their daughter, stood nearby, buried in her phone as if it could shield her from the pain. A gust of salty sea wind sneaked through the half-open window, deepening the hollow ache in Edna’s chest.
“Well, that’s that,” she muttered, watching Emily slam the boot shut. “Finally, that woman’s out of my son’s life.”
Edna flicked an invisible speck off the table and smirked. She’d never liked Emily—too independent, too bold, entirely unworthy of her son, Daniel. But now that the divorce was final, Edna felt victorious. She’d gotten her way. The triumph, however, was short-lived. Daniel had stopped answering her calls. She dialled again and again, met only by the endless drone of the ringtone. In frustration, she hurled her phone onto the sofa and shouted into the emptiness:
“What on earth is this?! After everything I’ve done for him!”
The next day, she decided to visit him. Daniel opened the door—unshaven, in a crumpled T-shirt, his eyes dull. At the sight of her, his brow furrowed.
“What do you want, Mum?” he snapped, blocking the doorway. Edna froze, as if struck by lightning.
Back in her kitchen, Edna tapped a spoon impatiently against her cup. Outside, Emily tossed the last of the boxes into the car. Daniel stood nearby, shoulders slumped, as if mourning more than just a marriage. Lily pointedly ignored them, absorbed in her phone.
“Daniel, look how quickly she’s packed!” Edna called through the open window. “She must’ve been counting the days to scamper off with your money!”
“Mum, enough,” Daniel cut in, exhaustion fraying his voice. “I filed for divorce, not her.”
“What do you know?!” Edna threw up her hands. “That Emily had you wrapped around her finger! Lazy, money-grabbing—couldn’t even keep a tidy home! You deserve better, son.”
Daniel clenched his fists, too weary to explain—again—how her constant nagging, gossip, and made-up accusations had torn his family apart. Emily wasn’t perfect (who was?), but she’d tried to be a good wife and mother. Edna, though, only saw flaws. It had started with sly hints (“Sure she’s faithful, son?”), then outright lies (“I saw her in a café with some man!”), until the final straw—an anonymous note Edna “found,” supposedly from Emily’s lover. Daniel had erupted, demanding answers, and Emily, wiping tears, had whispered, “If you believe her over me, we have nothing left to say.”
The divorce was quick. Edna rejoiced, clapping like a child at a birthday party. She imagined fussing over Daniel, pulling him back into her nest where everything was under her control. But now, watching his hunched figure by the car, a prickle of unease needled her. *Why isn’t he happy?* She brushed the thought away. *He’ll thank me later.*
Emily slammed the boot, cast one last glance at the house, and slid behind the wheel. Lily climbed in without a word. The car pulled away, leaving dust and silence in its wake. Edna shut the window with a smug smile. *Victory.* Yet something in her chest tightened, as if an unseen voice whispered, *What now?*
The post-divorce days dragged, thick as cold porridge. Edna waited for Daniel to return to her—eating her shepherd’s pies, seeking her advice, praising her wisdom. Instead, he grew quiet, distant. He visited less, shoulders perpetually slumped under some invisible weight. One evening over dinner, he suddenly said:
“Happy now, Mum? Emily’s gone, I’m alone, Lily refuses to see me. Is this what you wanted?”
Edna’s spoon clattered onto the tiles. The sharp noise made her flinch.
“How dare you?” she cried, leaping up. “I did all this for you! That woman was dragging you down!”
Daniel shook his head wearily.
“You don’t get it. Emily wasn’t perfect, but she was my family. Now there’s… nothing. Just emptiness.”
Edna opened her mouth to argue, but the words stuck. She watched her son age before her eyes—deeper lines, dimmer gaze. He tried dating, bringing women home, but they all vanished. One, Sarah, had said on her way out:
“You’re too tied to your mum, Daniel. Until you cut that cord, you’ll never be free.”
The words festered. Daniel began avoiding Edna, dodging calls with excuses.
Meanwhile, Emily—oddly—blossomed. Post-divorce, she seemed lighter. She landed a job at a marketing firm, bought a flat with a sea view. Lily, though shaken, adjusted. She saw her mother smile more, cook with enthusiasm, make plans. But her father? A stranger now. When Daniel called, Lily sent him to voicemail, once snapping:
“You chose Gran over us. Deal with it.”
It stung. He tried reaching out, but Lily was unmoved. Edna, hearing of it, shrugged:
“Good. Let him learn what betrayal feels like.”
But unease gnawed at her. Neighbors greeted her less; friends who’d once gossiped about “awful Emily” now avoided eye contact. At the shops, an elderly woman who’d listened to her gripes said softly:
“Edna, you’ve backed yourself into a corner. Why?”
The words echoed as Edna walked home, realisation dawning: Daniel was slipping away, Lily despised her, and Emily—the woman she’d deemed weak—was thriving. Deep down, Edna felt the boomerang she’d thrown circling back.
Months passed. The silence in Edna’s life grew unbearable. She sat in the dark, wrestling with the truth—she’d destroyed it all. Daniel was a shell. He’d sent Emily long apologies, but her replies were cool:
“Daniel, it’s over. Move on.”
Once, he’d turned up at her flat, clutching daisies—Emily’s favourite. Lily opened the door, freezing at the sight of him.
“Why are you here? Mum’s out, and I’ve nothing to say to you.”
“Lily, please,” Daniel’s voice cracked. “I know I messed up. Let me fix this.”
“Fix it?” Lily crossedarms, her eyes flashing. “You believed Gran instead of us—it’s too late now,” and with that, she shut the door, leaving Daniel standing there, the daisies wilting in his hands, as the last remnants of his family slipped through his fingers like sand.
