Ive been living in this flat for seven years now, sharing it with Andrew and putting up with his mums constant jabs. Seven years of hearing the same line: You came from the sticks and just dropped into our little cosy nest. Margaret Whitcombe never lets me forget Im the outsider in her house.
Emily, youve left the dishes in the sink again, she says, popping into the kitchen as if she owns the place. She has a spare key Andrew gave her before we even got married. Ive begged him to get it back a dozen times, but he just waves it off: Shes my mum, love.
I was going to wash them after lunch, I reply, not taking my eyes off my toast. Fiveyearold Max sits beside me, scooping porridge, glancing at his grandmother. He senses the tension kids pick up on everything.
Was going to! Margaret snorts. Youre always going to. Then Andrew comes home exhausted and the flat is a mess. At least the child is normal not like you.
I clench my fists under the table. Not like me? Im the one who stays up with him when hes croaky, the one who reads bedtime stories, the one who got him into nursery and never misses a parentteacher meeting. But I keep my mouth shut, like always.
Margaret scans the kitchen like a hostess. She was a newcomer once too she moved from a little village in Kent to London in the eighties and married Andrews dad. She never talks about that now. To her, shes a proper Londoner and Im the provincial newcomer.
This flat came into the family from Andrews grandmother, she launches into her favourite refrain. And youre just a guest. A temporary guest.
Temporary guest shes called me that for seven years. A temporary guest who gave her a grandson, who works from dawn till dusk, who poured all his savings into refurbishing the place.
Mom, thats enough, I say, exhausted.
Dont Mom me! Its Margaret! And remember your place. Im the elder here, which means Im in charge.
Max frowns and pushes his plate away.
Grandma, why are you mad at Mum?
Finish your porridge, love. And let your mother learn how to keep a house tidy.
That evening, when Andrew finally gets home, I try again.
Andy, we cant keep going like this. Your mum pops in whenever she likes, yells at me, says nasty things in front of the child. Can you take her keys away?
Andrew slips off his shoes without looking at me.
Emily, love, shes my mum. Shes old, alone. The flat did come from Grandma
Andy! I grab his arm. Weve been married seven years! We have a child! This is our home!
Yours, ours. But formally the lease is in my name. She got used to dropping in when I lived alone
Then transfer half to me. Officially.
Andrew winces like hes got a toothache.
Why all the paperwork? We love each other, right? Love and legal papers are two different beasts. I didnt see that at first.
A week later my parents turn up. Theyre staying for ten days to look after Max while we finish up a holiday. My dad works in a factory, my mum in a hospital simple, solid people. Theyve helped us so many times: when we redid the bathroom (£200000), when we bought new furniture (£100000), when Max fell ill it was their money that saved us.
Im so glad youre here, I hug my mum. Max missed his grandparents.
We hope we dont get in the way, my dad worries. Its already cramped
Dont be silly, Dad! This is our home, our family. Make yourselves comfortable.
Andrew greets my parents warmly, as always. He respects them, values their help. Yet I can see hes on edge. He calls Margaret to let her know my folks have arrived.
Mum, Lenas parents are staying with us for a week Yes, everythings fine, what are you Right.
The next day Andrew and I head off to work. My parents stay with Max reading, playing, making lunch. Max is thrilled: Grandma Vera tells him about birds, Granddad George shows him magic tricks.
Im a manager at a travel agency. At half past one my mum calls, voice shaking.
Emily, your motherinlaw turned up. Shes shouting that we moved in without permission
My heart drops.
Mom, whats happening?
She says we should pack and leave. That its her flat and she didnt invite anyone
I can hear Margaret in the background: All these outsiders! Think they can settle wherever they fancy! This is private property!
Stay calm, Mom. Im on my way. Let me speak to Margaret.
Shes furious. Emily, shes very angry Max got scared
Wheres Max?
In his room. Granddad is with him.
I drop everything and race home, phoning Andrew on the way.
Your mum is throwing my parents out!
What?! Emily, Im coming too.
And finally take her keys! Im done!
I make it in half an hour instead of the usual hour. My parents suitcase is sitting by the entrance. Shes actually thrown their things onto the street!
I sprint upstairs and hear shouting: No settling here! Youve got your own daughter let her support you!
I fling open the door with my key. My parents stand in the hallway, looking lost. My mum is sobbing. From the bedroom I hear Max crying too.
Margaret, whats going on?
She turns, face beet red. Your parents decided to set up here, did they? This isnt a hotel, its a private home!
This is our home! I shout. Ours with Andrew! And my parents are my guests!
Ours? Yours? she cackles. Youre nobody here! Do you have the papers for the flat? No! But my son does! So Im the one in charge!
My mum steps up to me. Emily, maybe we should go to a hotel
No, youre staying, I hug her tight. Margaret, apologise to my parents. Now.
As if! They should apologise for barging in!
Andrew bursts in, face dark. He knows this is a disaster.
Mum, what are you doing?
Andy, Im protecting our home! They want to move in!
Theyre guests for a week.
A week! And then what? Theyll stay for good! I know the type!
I go to Maxs room. Hes sniffling on the bed, Granddad George rubbing his head.
Mum, why did Grandma Margaret yell at Grandma Vera? he asks.
Theres a lump in my throat.
Sweetheart, sometimes grownups cant see eye to eye. Itll be alright.
Are Vera and George going to leave?
No, love. Theyll stay, just as we planned.
Back in the living room, Andrew is trying to calm his mum.
Mum, why act like this? Its not right.
Not right? No one asked me is that right? I just found out strangers are living here!
Theyre not strangers! Theyre Emilys parents!
Theyre nothing to me!
I step up to Andrew.
Andy, I need a word. Alone.
We go into the kitchen and I close the door.
Andy, thats it. I cant do this any longer. Either you sort your mum out once and for all, or Im out.
Emily, dont be rash
Im not being rash! She threw my parents out onto the street! She made a scene in front of our child! How much more can I take?
Shes just worried
Andy. I whisper, but he gets the seriousness. If you dont take her keys now and transfer half the flat to me, Im filing for divorce.
He turns as pale as a sheet.
Emily
No Emily. Seven years of humiliation! My parents put every last penny into our renovation, and she treats them like dogs!
But the legalities
Not legalities. Guarantees. I want to know this house is mine too. That Im not a temporary guest.
He sits silent, staring out the window.
How am I supposed to explain this to my mum?
Tomorrow Im filing. And Im taking Max.
He finally sees Im serious. Seven years is a long time, but I cant stay in a house where Im treated as an outsider.
Fine, he says at last. Tomorrow we sort it.
We head back to the lounge. Margaret is still fuming on the sofa.
Andrew, he says, hand me the keys.
What?
The flat keys. Hand them over.
Andy, what are you
Its not right. Emilys right. This is our home.
Her face turns ghostwhite.
So youre throwing me out for her?
Im not throwing you out. Just give me the keys and apologise to Emilys parents.
Never!
Then dont come back.
She pulls the keys from her purse with shaking hands and slams them on the table.
Fine! Lets see how you manage without me! And that wife of yours will be the first to walk out the moment something goes wrong!
She hammers the door shut so hard the windows rattle.
Silence drops.
My parents stand in the hallway, unsure what to do.
Please make yourselves at home, I say. This is your home too.
My mum embraces me. Emily, maybe you shouldnt have
I should have, Mum. Ages ago.
The next day Andrew and I go to a solicitor. We put half the flat in my name. Im no longer a temporary guest. Its officially my home.
Margaret doesnt call for three days. Then she rings Andrew, crying into the handset: Son, I didnt mean it I was just scared.
Mum, come over, but behave yourself.
She shows up with a cake and flowers, asks my parents for forgiveness. Its a bit forced, but she asks.
I got nervous, she admits. Older people get paranoid.
My parents, being the kind souls they are, forgive her.
Now there are new rules. Margaret calls before she visits. She no longer criticises my cleaning. She calls me Emily, not temporary guest.
When a month later my parents come again this time for Maxs birthday before he starts school no one tosses them out. Margaret even helps set the table.
You did the right thing, my mum tells me later, alone in the kitchen. You shouldve done it ages ago.
Yes, Mum. Ages ago.
And Margaret finally sees Im not a guest. My name is on the title, and she realises that trying to drive my parents out almost cost her son and grandson. Her plan to split us backfired, and now she knows this house belongs to us both.
