In her final year at university, Emily fell in lovenot just with any ordinary bloke, but with Oliver, a handsome lad all the girls on her course fancied. Oliver came from money, and everyone knew it.
Emily was pretty enough, clever too, but her parents were working-class, and she knew she and Oliver were from different worlds. Still, love didnt care about that.
“Em, youre daft falling for Oliver,” her flatmates in the student halls warned. “He knows his worth, looks down his nose at most. Only mingles with his own lot.”
“So what? I know my worth too,” Emily shot back. “Im not some dim birdIm fit, top of my class, can hold my own in any chat.”
“Sure, sure. Just dont come crying later. Bet his mum and dad are proper poshwouldnt let the likes of us through the front door.”
“Dont scare me,” Emily murmured. “Meeting his parents especially his mum thats what terrifies me.”
At first, she never dreamed Oliver would fancy her back. But he dideasily, without her even trying. He asked her to the cinema first.
They dated all through fourth year, and just before summer break, Oliver dropped the bombshell: “Em, were off to meet my parents Saturday. Mums been naggingwants to know all about you.”
“Bloody hell, Ollie! So suddenIm not ready!”
“Dont panic. Theyre just people. Dads quiet; Mums the chatty one. Bit nosy, but harmless.”
Emily was sure theyd marryshe just had to impress his parents. The invitation to Sunday roast sent her into a frenzy. She spent two days cramming etiquette books, terrified of a misstep.
Saturday came. Oliver met her, and they stepped into the flat. Her stomach twisted at the thought of his mum.
“Hello,” Emily managed, spotting Olivers mothera striking woman with a warm smile that eased her nerves.
“Hello, love. Im Margaret. Oliver, take her through.”
At the table sat his father, William, stern-faced. He gave a silent nod.
Emily sat straight, elbows off the table, cutlery perfect. She barely ate, remembering the rule: always be ready to answer, never speak with a full mouth.
But nerves betrayed herher fork clattered to the thick carpet. She flinched, eyes darting to Margaret as Oliver laughed.
“Sorry”
“Oliver, mind your manners,” Margaret chided. “Fetch her a clean fork.”
“Alright, Mum.” He scooped it up and vanished.
“Emily, relax. This isnt Buckingham Palace,” Margaret said, smiling. “Eat up, or Ill think you hate my cooking.”
“Oh, no! Its lovely. I justOliver said you had a housekeeper, Mrs. Higgins.”
“We do. But today, I cooked.”
“Why?”
Margaret laughed. “Had to impress my future daughter-in-law, didnt I?”
Emily blinked. “So its not just me on trial?”
“Seems not,” Margaret grinned. “But Oliver didnt disappoint. Right, William?”
“Quite right, dear,” he muttered.
The visit went well. Emily loosened up, chatting freely. Two weeks later, they filed for a marriage license. The wedding came two months after.
“Ollie, where will we live?”
“Dunno. Mum and Dad were whispering”
The answer came at the receptiona one-bed flat two floors down, gifted by his parents.
Emily was over the moon. Her family, visiting from Manchester, cheered. “There is a God,” her mum said. “Youve got your own roof, love.”
She wanted to graduate with Oliver. Life seemed goldenuntil fifth year, when she realised she was pregnant. Overjoyed but scared, she told Oliver.
“Ollie, Im so happywere having a baby! Just hope I finish uni on time”
Olivers face darkened. “A baby? Were skint students living off my parents! Wanted at least three years just us.”
Emily froze. “Youyou want me to get rid of it?”
“Exactly. Too young for nappies.”
She fled in tears, colliding with Margaret downstairs.
“Emily! Whatsoh, pet, come upstairs.”
On the sofa, Margaret pressed a cup of tea into her hands. “Out with it.”
Between sobs, Emily confessed. “Hehe wants me to because of money, the degreebut I cant!”
“Good. Youre right. How far along?”
“Eight weeks.”
“Youll graduate in time. Eat somethingMrs. Higgins will sort you. Ill talk to him.”
Later, Oliver shuffled in, shamefaced. “Sorry, Em. Was being a prat.”
She thanked Margaret with her eyes.
They made up. Degrees came; two weeks later, their son, James, arrived. Margaret and William dotedmore than Oliver ever did.
He got a job; Emily stayed home. But Oliver started coming home late, then drunk.
“Ollie, whats with the booze?”
“None of your business. Cant I have a pint with mates?”
She bit her tongue. By the time James turned two, Oliver reeked of strange perfume, vanished on weekends.
“Ollie, are you cheating?”
He stammered, then left.
Emily went to Margaret. “Its over. Im taking James to Mums.”
“Dont be daftyoull stay here. Let him rot alone. Mrs. Higgins will help with James till you work. You need to be around peoplefeel like yourself again.”
“Thank you. I just I deserve to be happy. Ive decided.”
“Good girl. Youll manage. Youve got spine.”
Five years later, Emily remarrieda colleague, Daniel. They live across town with James and a baby girl. Margaret and William dote on their grandson, summers spent at their country cottage. Little Alice adores Grandma Maggie.
Emilys happy. Daniels her match. Against all odds, she won.
