“Mum, meet someone,” said William, stepping forward with a girl by his side. “This is Emily. My fiancée.”
Margaret, Williams mother, nearly collapsed where she stoodthankfully, there was a chair right behind her. Her boy, her little Will, looked like a schoolboy beside his bride-to-be, who carried herself with the confidence of someone twice his age.
“Hiya!” Emily kept her hands in her jeans pockets and chewed her gum lazily, eyeing Margaret like she owned the place.
“Hello… there,” Margaret stammered, utterly stunned. “Since when… How?”
“Mum, its fine!” Will kicked off his shoes and gestured for Emily to do the same. “Were moving in with Em, right, love?”
“Mm-hmm,” Emily nodded, popping her gum.
“Son, can I have a word?” Margaret rose and headed to the kitchen.
“Say it in front of me,” Emily plopped onto the sofa, crossing her legs and snatching the TV remote, flipping through channels. “Will and I have no secrets. Right, bunny?”
“Right, Mum,” Will nodded, his cheeks turning pink.
“Well, alright,” Margaret steadied herself. “William, are you sure this girl is right for you? Shes at least ten years older than you.”
“Eight!” Emily corrected. “And it doesnt matter. Got a problem with that? Im independent, financially secure, a grown woman”
“Exactly! A *woman*! My boys barely twenty!” Margaret clutched her head.
“Well, *someones* got to turn him into a proper man, since no one else managed,” Emily smirked.
Margaret was speechless, gaping like a fish out of water.
“Mum,” Will finally spoke up, “the reason were herewe need money for the wedding.”
“And why should *I* pay?” Margaret scoffed, appalled by her future daughter-in-laws nerve.
“Hows that even a question?” Emily raised an eyebrow. “Traditionally, the grooms family pays. Mine certainly thinks so.”
“Oh, brilliant!” Margaret threw her hands up. “Very convenientoffload an overripe catch *and* demand cash. If anything, *you* should pay *me* for taking my baby off your hands. Not a penny!”
She crossed her arms firmly.
“Alright, alright,” Emily stood, smirking, and stepped right up to Margaret. “Coo all you want, love. Come on, bunny, well manage without.”
She strode to the hallway, already opening the front door. Will hurried after her, casting one last hopeful glance at his mothermaybe shed change her mind. But Margaret turned away.
“Why bunny?” she called after them.
“Because of his big ears!” Emily shouted back, shoving Will out the door.
“Bye, Mum!” Will barely got out before the door slammed.
“Lord, where did I go wrong?!” Margaret sobbed, collapsing at the kitchen table and stuffing her face with biscuits. Her sweet, gentle boy, trapped in the clutches of that predator.
“His ears are perfectly normal!” she sniffed belatedly at the closed door.
“So, what now?” Emily scratched her head as they stepped outside. “We dont have enough for a proper venue, a caterer, *or* a decent spread. My parents wont chip in either.”
“Maybe we could have it at our cottage, then go travelling?” Will suggested hopefully. He barely had savingshed only just started working, after all.
“Why didnt you mention the cottage before?” Emily slapped his shoulder. “Go back, ask for the keys. Ill waitwouldnt want to traumatise the poor old dear with my *modern* ways,” she cackled.
Just as Margaret calmed down, the doorbell rang.
*What now?* she grumbled, shuffling to answer.
It was Will, alone. She peeked past himno sign of Emily.
“Did she dump you?!” Margaret gasped.
“Mum!” Will pouted. “We love each other.”
“Then what?”
Will shuffled awkwardly. “Can we borrow the cottage for the wedding?”
“*Absolutely not!*” Margaret huffed. “Youll wreck the place! Wholl clean up?”
“Well handle it! Everyone will help!” Will pressed. “Mum, dont you want me happy?”
Margaret choked on her water. “I *do* want you happyjust not with *her*!”
“Emilys wonderful,” Will insisted.
“Not from where Im standing,” Margaret sighed.
She trudged to the hall, jangling keys before handing them over. “Fine. But it better be spotless.”
“Youre the best!” Will kissed her cheek and bolted.
“Look!” He waved the keys triumphantly outside.
“See? You *can* be useful,” Emily smirked, spitting out her gum before kissing him deeply.
Margaret was invited to the wedding. She groaned to her neighbour, “How am I supposed to smile? Id rather drown her in the punch bowl!”
“Relax,” the neighbour waved her off. “Kids these daysmarried today, divorced tomorrow. My daughters on her third husband. Just pray they dont have kids.”
“Whats the point then?” Margaret frowned.
“Who knows?” The neighbour shrugged.
The wedding went ahead on a sunny afternoon.
“Lucky with the weather!” guests cheered. About thirty showed up, including Emilys posh parentsstiff as boards until her dad downed a few whiskies and started fussing over bridesmaids.
“What does she even see in him?” Emilys mother whined to Margaret. “She had *doctors*, *bankers* chasing her!”
“And Im *thrilled* about your daughter,” Margaret sneered, moving away before she ruined the day.
Outside, her heart sankher precious garden was being demolished.
Grills sat between trampled vegetable patches, half the herbs were ripped out, and her firewood was burning in makeshift barbecues.
“The loos *there*!” she barked at tipsy guests watering her apple trees.
“Cheers, Mum!” they laughed, zipping up.
Margaret groaned.
The party raged till dawn. Her garden was fertilised with half-digested canapés, drenched in champagne and worse. By morning, she surveyed the wreckageempty bottles, crushed cups, guests passed out on her flowerbeds.
Silk scarves hung from the trees like sad decorations.
“At least no underwear,” she muttered, gathering them.
Will emerged, stretching.
“Mum, whatre you doing?”
“*What does it look like?*” she snapped.
“Everyonell clean up once theyre awake,” he said, splashing his face from the rain barrel before heading back inside.
Margarets jaw dropped when the newlyweds came out with suitcases.
“Where are *you* going? Whos cleaning?!”
“Weve got flights, Mum,” Will nudged past her. “Honeymoon.”
“What about the guests?!”
“Theyve got legs,” Emily said, dragging Will toward the gate. “This dumps *your* problem now.”
Margaret was speechless.
Guests slunk away without lifting a finger.
“Sorry, love,” Emilys dad hiccuped, reeking of booze. “Were off.”
Left alone, Margaret sighed, surveying the mess.
In the spare room, under gift boxes, she spotted an envelopefull of cash from the guests.
“*This* much?” she muttered, counting.
Smirking, she dialled a number.
“Hello? SparkleClean Services? I need a full garden and house clean-up. Yes, that budget works.”
She hung up, tucking the leftover cash into her pocket.
“Safe travels, kids,” she chuckled, reaching for the biscuits.
