“If your mum sees me as the enemy, then she can jolly well make her own arrangements. I wont be her errand girl any longer!”
Emily had always tried to keep her cool when it came to Margaret Whitmore. Her mother-in-law visited their London flat two or three times a week, and every visit felt like a test. The September days grew shorter, and Emilys patience wore even thinner.
Margaret adored hosting. Shed arrive with bags of groceries, take over the kitchen, and cook enough to feed an armyalways inviting neighbours, acquaintances, and sometimes complete strangers.
“Now this is proper hospitality!” Margaret would announce loudly, setting the table. “Not like some people who cant even make a decent cup of tea.”
Emily clenched her jaw and kept slicing bread. Margaret never said it outright, but everyone knew who she meant.
At the table, Margaret transformed into a storyteller. Her eyes lit up, her voice turned dramatic, and the performance began.
“My nephews wife is an absolute gem!” Margaret would exclaim, flinging her hands in the air. “Abigail is so talented! The cross-stitch she doeslike proper art! And she knits, sews, keeps their garden immaculate. Pickles cucumbers, makes jam. Their house is a proper home!”
The guests would nod approvingly while Emilys cheeks burned. Her husband, James, sat glued to his phone, pretending not to notice.
“And Lucy, my cousins wife, is wonderful too,” Margaret continued. “So obedient, so agreeable. Never speaks out of turn. Her mother-in-law feels completely looked after. Helps with everything, asks advice on every little thing. Now thats proper upbringing!”
One of the neighbours turned to Emily.
“And what do you do, dear?”
Emily opened her mouth, but Margaret cut in.
“Oh, why bother asking?” Her voice dripped with barely hidden mockery. “Our Emily is a modern girl. She works in an office, glued to a computer. No time for homemaking or crafts. Shes used to others doing things for her.”
“Im a manager at a retail firm,” Emily tried to explain.
“Oh yes, a manager,” Margaret nodded knowingly. “But who does everything at home? Poor James has to cook and clean after work. Our spoiled daughter-in-law.”
Emily clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. James still hadnt looked up from his screen.
After one such dinner, when the guests had left and the dishes were done, Margaret approached Emily with a saccharine smile.
“Emily, darling, could you take me to the clinic tomorrow? I need to collect some test results, and I dont fancy going alone.”
“Of course, Margaret,” Emily replied, though she had an important client meeting the next day.
“Oh, thank you, sweetheart! James is so busy at work, and I hate to bother him. But youve got flexible hours, havent you? You can pop out whenever.”
Emily wanted to argue that her schedule wasnt that flexible but stayed silent. Better not to make a scene.
The following week, it happened again. Margaret turned up with another request.
“Emily, love, could you nip to the chemists?” She handed Emily a list of prescriptions. “The doctors given me new medication, and I cant make head nor tail of the names. Id hate to get the wrong ones.”
“Fine,” Emily nodded.
“And if its not too much trouble, could you stop by the shop? I need some oats and cleaning supplies. I cant carry heavy thingsmy backs playing up.”
Emily spent half the day traipsing between three pharmacies before queuing at the supermarket. She returned home exhausted and irritated.
“Howd it go?” James asked, eyes fixed on the telly.
“Fine,” Emily replied flatly.
A few days later, Margaret arrived again, this time with a gaggle of relatives in tow.
“Meet my daughter-in-law, Emily,” Margaret introduced her. “And this is my sister-in-law, Patricia, and her daughter, Sophie.”
Sophie, around Emilys age, carried herself like someone far wiser.
“I hear you work in an office?” Sophie asked, eyeing the flat critically.
“Yes, in retail management.”
“How fascinating!” Sophie gushed with artificial enthusiasm. “I stay home with the childrenthree of them, would you believe? All so bright and well-behaved. The eldest already takes violin lessons.”
Margaret beamed.
“Now thats a proper woman! Raises children, keeps a home, supports her husband. Not gallivanting about in offices.”
Emilys face burned with anger, but she held her tongue.
“Exactly!” Patricia chimed in. “Sophies so capable! Cooks beautifully, sews, knits. I always tell heryoure a real catch for any man!”
“I even keep a vegetable patch,” Sophie added modestly. “Grow my own produce, make preserves. My husband says our home is his sanctuary.”
Margaret turned to Emily.
“Hear that, Emily? Maybe you could learn a thing or two from Sophie! Then perhaps James wouldnt vanish all evening.”
Emily froze. Only she knew James had been staying out latehow had Margaret found out?
“Does James often go missing?” Patricia asked curiously.
“Oh, he works late,” Emily hedged.
“Of course he does!” Margaret scoffed. “Any man would flee a home like this. Empty fridge, wife always at work. No wonder he seeks comfort elsewhere.”
Sophie shook her head sympathetically.
“What a shame! A man needs to feel cherished at home. Cosy surroundings, home-cooked meals. Mine wont even go on business tripssays nowhere compares.”
The conversation dragged on, each barb sharper than the last. Emily sat silently, irritation simmering.
When the guests finally left, Emily snapped.
“James, did you hear what your mother was saying?”
“Whats the fuss?” He shrugged. “Just women chatting.”
“Chatting? She humiliated me in front of everyone!”
“Dont be dramatic. Mum was just sharing how others live.”
“So you agree Im a terrible wife?”
“I never said that. But shes not wrongyou could put more effort into the home.”
“Who cooks, cleans, does the laundry? The house fairy?”
“We take turns”
“Turns? When did you last cook? Heating up frozen pizza doesnt count!”
James grimaced.
“No need to shout. Im talking calmly.”
“Because Ive had enough! Your mother constantly criticises me, and you say nothing!”
“Mum doesnt criticise. She gives advice.”
Emily stormed off. The next day, Margaret rang with another demanda special cream from across town.
“Emily, darling, youll help, wont you? Only one chemist stocks it, and its such a trek. You driveits no trouble for you.”
Emily checked the clock. She had a crucial meeting in three hours.
“Margaret, maybe another day? Ive got”
“Oh, what could possibly be so important?” Margaret interrupted. “Youll only be a bit late! I need this cream urgentlymy skins dreadful!”
Emily gave in. Of course, she hit traffic, missed the meeting, and got a scolding from her boss.
That evening, James dismissed her frustration.
“One little delay wont kill you. Mum needed help. You couldnt say no.”
“And if I get sacked over these ‘little delays’?”
“You wont. And if you do, youll find another job.”
Emily was speechless.
A week later, Margaret hosted another dinner, comparing Emily to other daughters-in-law.
“My nephews wife Abigailsuch a blessing to her mother-in-law! They holiday together, exchange gifts. Abigail always asks her advice, treats her like a real mother.”
Then Margarets gaze settled on Emily.
“Some think marriage means ignoring in-laws. Live for themselves, never consulting anyone.”
“Margaret, if youve something to say, say it plainly,” Emily snapped.
Margaret feigned innocence.
“Goodness, Im not saying anything! Just musing on how differently people treat their elders.”
After dinner, as Emily washed up, Margaret sidled up.
“Emily, are you actually good for anything?”
A plate slipped from Emilys hands and smashed on the floor.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, dear,” Margaret shrugged. “Just wondering if youve any skills beyond office work.”
Emilys hands shook as she picked up the pieces.
“If Im the enemy in your mothers eyes, then she can live as she pleases. I wont lift a finger for her again!”
Silence fell. Margaret blinked, stunned. James finally looked up from his phone.
“Emily, whats got into you? Mum meant no harm”
“No harm? She just implied Im useless! In front of guests!”
Margaret recovered quickly.
“Emily, you misunderstood! Id never hurt you!”
“Really? Calling me spoiled and incompetentwas that accidental too? Comparing me to others for monthsjust a coincidence?”
“I
