Mother-in-Law Margaret remembered all too well her conversation with that dreadful woman whod somehow become her son Williams wife. Shed tried her best to talk him out of the marriage, of coursewhat mother wouldnt?but hed gone ahead with it anyway. At least at first. And honestly, that provincial little upstart had far too much nerve for her own good.
“Listen here, Margaret,” the girl had said, bold as brass. “You can stop pretending to be the wise, doting mother. I can see right through you, and Im not about to bend over backwards to please you. What gives you the right to waltz into our flat every evening uninvited? Were not living off your money, you know.”
Margaret had nearly choked on her tea. “Excuse me? You dare lecture me? Just wait till youre my age” Her carefully cultivated air of refinement evaporated instantly, revealing the petty, small-minded woman beneaththe sort who lived for little more than sweet treats and an easy life, no matter who she had to bulldoze to get it.
“Margaret,” the girlEmily, of all common namescontinued, utterly unfazed, “William and I love each other. And Ive noticed your little chats dont exactly leave him in high spirits. Was it not enough that you drove his father out and sweet-talked him into signing over his share of the flat? Now you wont even let your own son live in peace? Or is love just not your strong suit?”
Margarets face turned an impressive shade of puce. “Oh, so thats how it is! Well, let me tell you something, you little guttersnipe! Who do you think you are? Some backwater nobody who washed up in London with delusions of grandeur? Youre nothing. One missed paycheck, and youll be out on the street. And you have the gall to tell me how to behave?”
Emily smirked. “Ah, so thats how you measure worth, is it? If you swindle people out of their homes, youre a pillar of society, but if I earn my keep honestly, Im beneath you? Not all of us had the luxury of marrying into property and then bleeding our husbands dry. And for the recordI know very well you werent born in London, either.”
That stung. Margaret *had* come from a tiny village, with nothing but a head full of dreams and not a qualification to her name.
“You will *never* be with my son! A mothers love is sacred! Get out!” she shrieked, falling back on the one argument no one could refute.
Emily merely snorted and walked away. The row changed nothingshe and William married anyway.
But Margaret wasnt one to surrender. When Emily had their son, little Oliver, she set about poisoning William against her. And eventually, it worked. They divorcedOliver was barely four.
***
Still, Margaret couldnt shake the fear that William might crawl back to that shameless actress. She knew he still saw Emily sometimes. Even paid child support.
What she *didnt* know was that William and Emily had never actually split. They still lived together, raising Oliver, while Margaret believed her son was working in Manchester.
The scheme wasnt just about Margarets meddling. Years before the wedding, William had landed himself in hot waterracked up debts, thanks to a dodgy business deal with his so-called mate.
Emily had warned him. “Will, dont be daft. That bloke Daniels a shark. Youre like a guppy next to him. Hell chew you up and spit you out without a second thought.”
“Dont be dramatic, Em. Dans a good lad. Men have to stick togetherthats how we survive.”
Shed rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Hes playing you like a fiddle. Just because he spouts nonsense about brotherhood doesnt mean hes honourable. When will you learn that decency isnt defined by gender?”
He hadnt listened, of course. Daniel made him director of a shell company, drained the accounts, left him drowning in debt, and vanished.
***
Better to have stayed in his safe, dull civil service jobmodest wages, but at least no one came knocking for money.
So theyd hatched their plantwo birds with one stone. Margaret was thrilled at the “divorce,” and the loan sharks stopped hounding Emily and Oliver.
Officially, William lived in company housing, back at his old job. Unofficially, he came home every evening to a cosy flat, his wife, and his son. He was happy.
But once a month, he had to visit Margaret”just passing through”and endure her relentless matchmaking attempts.
“Maybe we should just tell her about the debts. And us,” Emily suggested.
“No It would crush her. Theres got to be another way,” William sighed.
“But *what*? We cant live like fugitives forever!”
There was no way out. Emily scraped by with odd jobs; Williams wages vanished into debt repayments. They were barely keeping afloat. Sometimes he begged her to leave him. But she loved him.
***
“Emily, love, you cant keep carrying him forever,” her mother, Helen, fretted. A no-nonsense schoolteacher, shed offered to take Emily and Oliver into her cramped little flatjust not William.
“Mum, I love him. We have a son. I cant just abandon him!”
Helen had raised her alone. Shed hoped an ultimatum might shake sense into her daughter. No such luck. So she devised a plan of her own.
***
“Well, Margaret, heres the situation.” Helen had come down from Yorkshire specifically to confront her. “Hes in debt. And your son never actually left Emily. Hes been lying to you this whole time.”
Margaret spluttered. “He *what*? That little!”
“My daughters been feeding him out of her own pocket, paying rentall while you played the doting mother. I wasnt supposed to tell you, but enoughs enough.”
“And he had the nerve to claim he was in Manchester! The *nerve*!”
“Were the adults here. Weve got to fix this,” Helen pressed.
“How?!”
“Pool our savings. Ive not got much, but for my daughterand my grandsonIll do it.”
Margaret recoiled. “*Help* him? Hes a grown man! I raised himthats *plenty*. Not a penny! And as far as Im concerned, I no longer have a son!”
***
“Right thenyoure moving in with me,” Helen declared after Margarets refusal. “Small space, but well manage.” What wouldnt she do for her daughters happiness?
“I dont mind,” Emily murmured.
“Neither do I. Sorry, Helen We behaved terribly at the wedding.”
William remembered mocking her “provincial” relatives for not using the right cutlery. Turned out, that didnt matter much after all.
***
“Look, I dont need you for anything else,” Helen said over the phone to her ex-husband, Robert. “But Emily needs help.”
“Of course Ill help. Shes my only daughter. Whats needed?”
“A place to live. And moneyenough to clear Williams debts.”
Robert had done well for himself in construction. Still, she expected refusalhed always been tight-fisted.
“How much?”
She named the sum, bracing herself. *Even if he helps, and William bolts later at least theyll have a fresh start.*
“Fine. But on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“Have dinner with me.”
Helen laughedgirlish, despite herself.
***
Years later, when Oliver turned eighteen, the whole family gathered. Helen and Robert, reunited after his stubborn courtship, held hands.
William and Emily had remarriedthough only *after* Helen ensured Emilys name was on the flat Robert bought her. William had finally grown up, sticking to his steady job and avoiding trouble.
“Everyone here?” Oliver asked.
Then the doorbell rang.
Oliver darted to answer. The room fell silent as Margaret stood on the threshold.
“You *invited* her?” Emily hissed.
“Mum, she kept calling! Said she was sorry!” Oliver flushed.
“Took her long enough,” Helen muttered.
“Come on, love. If not for her, we wouldnt be here,” Robert chuckled. “Nobodys perfect.”
“Whats this about, Mum?” William frowned.
Margaret wrung her hands. “I just came to apologise.”
Shed waited years for them to beg. When no one did, the loneliness grew unbearable.
“I thought youd grovel. Plead. But you didnt. And I Im not all bad. Forgive me.”
Silence. Then someone passed her a cup of tea. A plate of biscuits.
No one in that family ever did master posh table manners. But they had kindness. Happiness. And forgivenessin spades.
