For six long years, Alice and James had scrimped and saved, penny by penny, to buy their own home, sacrificing nearly everything. At last, they had a modest two-bedroom flatcosy, bright, though sparsely furnished. It was meant to be the start of a new chapter, a happy family life. Alice was days away from giving birth, the nursery ready, bags packed, nothing left but the final countdown.
Alice had dreamed of a space of her own, free from parental controlespecially her mother-in-laws meddling. Her relationship with Margaret had always been strained. The woman loved to dictate how they should live, breathe, even wash the dishes. One day, Alice had snapped and told her plainly she didnt need constant advice. Margaret took offence and vanished from their lives. For a while.
When James drove Alice to the hospital, he had no idea what awaited him. The very next day, his mother called to announce she was coming over. No chance to argue. Margaret arrived in full force, scrutinising the flat with a critical eyethe hallway was *passable*, the curtains *ghastly*, the kitchen *a disgrace, in need of a proper scrub!* She rifled through the fridge, sneering at the shop-bought dumplings and declaring shed make soup tomorrow. James tried to laugh it off, to change the subject, but it was hopeless. His mother marched through the rooms like a general inspecting troops.
That evening, he offered to drive her home. She refused. Ill stay the night. You shouldnt be alone, in case Alice comes home tomorrow. And she stayed. One night. Then another. And another.
While James was at work, she rearranged furniture, sorted clothes, decided where the changing table should go and what they *really* needed to buy. His patience was wearing thin, but he couldnt bring himself to disappoint her. Then came the announcement: shed stay for a few months. To *help* with the baby. After all, theyd never manage alone.
When Alice finally came home, the whole family was thereher parents, James, and of course, Margaret, beaming. Alice knew instantly something was wrong. The curtains were different, the furniture moved, an unfamiliar scent in the air. Her parents left. Margaret didnt. Under Alices silent stare, James mumbled, Mums staying a while. To help us out
Exhausted from labour, Alice had no choice. That night, the torment began. Youre holding the baby wrong. That swaddles too loose. Hes crying because you dont know how to rock him. Alice bit her tongueuntil Margaret yanked the child from her arms. That was the last straw.
Thanks for the help, but youre free to go, she said, voice steady. This is *my* child. And Ill rock him. Not you.
Margaret scoffed, deeply insulted. James fumbled for words, but one sharp look from Alice silenced him. She was calm. Unshakable. This was *her* home. *Her* family.
Margaret packed her bags. She never returned. James finally understoodhis wife needed support, not orders. And for the first time, Alice truly felt like this was her home. No matter how long it had taken, the important thing wasshe hadnt backed down.
