**Diary Entry 23rd October**
I cant remember the last time I felt truly at peace in this house. Its always somethingcomments, suggestions, that relentless feeling of being watched.
*”We want privacy, not your advice,”* James said, glancing at me.
*”Emily, wheres your mum today?”* Margaret asked, peering at me over her thick glasses. *”She promised to come help with the salads.”*
*”Shes busy,”* I replied shortly, still slicing cucumbers. *”Got held up at work.”*
*”Work again,”* Margaret tutted. *”And what about family? When are you two planning children? Youre not getting any younger.”*
I tightened my grip on the knife and said nothing. The telly flickered on in the loungeJames had come in from the garden, where hed spent the afternoon pottering about.
*”James, love!”* Margaret called. *”Come set the table.”*
*”In a minute, Mum,”* he answered but didnt move.
She sighed and started pulling out the good china. Tomorrow, her sister and brother-in-law were coming from Manchester, and she wanted everything perfect.
*”Emily, did you wash those tomatoes properly?”* she asked, peering into the bowl. *”My stomachs sensitive, you know.”*
*”I did, Margaret,”* I said evenly.
*”And those cucumberscut them thicker. Men like something hearty. James always hassince he was a boy.”*
I paused and looked at her.
*”Maybe youd prefer to do it yourself?”*
*”Oh, dont be silly,”* she waved a hand. *”Im only helping. Forty years running a kitchenIve got experience. Youre still learning.”*
James wandered in, still in his muddy trainers and old t-shirt, hair tousled.
*”Hows it going, ladies? Preparing a feast?”*
*”We are,”* Margaret nodded. *”Though you might want to clean up. Look at the state of you.”*
*”Mum, its just home,”* he said, grabbing water from the fridge.
*”Home or not, you should take pride. What must Emily think, seeing you like that?”*
I turned sharply.
*”Margaret, I love my husband as he is. Work clothes or otherwise.”*
*”Of course, of course,”* she said. *”But standards matter. Next door, their son-in-laws always sharpeven at home.”*
*”And whats his job?”* James asked.
*”Some office manager. Doesnt get his hands dirty.”*
*”Well, Im on a construction site, Mum. Cant exactly wear a suit.”*
*”I know. But once youre home, you could tidy up.”*
James rolled his eyes and left. I kept chopping, ignoring her gaze.
*”Another thing,”* Margaret began, sitting down. *”You two have the telly on too loud at night. I cant sleep with it through the wall.”*
*”We dont have it loud,”* I said.
*”You do. And last night, you were talking till midnight.”*
My face burned. Last night *had* gone latebut not for the reasons she imagined. The telly had been cover.
*”Maybe youd like earplugs?”* I suggested.
*”Earplugs? In my own home? Noyou should be more considerate.”*
James came back, now changed.
*”Whats this about?”*
Margaret huffed. *”I was just saying you two should keep it down. I couldnt sleep last night.”*
He frowned. *”What noise?”*
*”Your telly. Your chatting.”*
James and I exchanged a look.
*”We try to be quiet,”* he said carefully.
*”Try harder. Its my house too.”*
*”Then maybe we *should* move out,”* I said.
Margaret gaped. *”Move out? Wholl help me? Im not young, and this house is too much alone!”*
*”Well visit,”* James said. *”Help when needed.”*
*”Visit!”* She threw her hands up. *”And if I fall ill? Neighbours wont hear. Nofamily stays together.”*
*”Then respect goes both ways,”* I said firmly.
*”I *do* respect you! Im just sharing wisdom.”*
James sighed. *”Mum, enough for today. Emilys had a long day.”*
*”What did I say wrong?”* Margaret protested. *”Just practical advice.”*
*”We dont *need* advice,”* I snapped.
*”So Im unwanted now?”* Her lips trembled. *”Forty years here, and suddenly Im in the way!”*
*”No one said that”* I started.
*”Oh, I *heard* you!”* She stormed out, slamming the door.
Silence.
*”Well,”* I muttered. *”Thatll be a week of sulking.”*
James rubbed his face. *”Cant keep tiptoeing forever.”*
From her room, the telly blareddeliberately loud.
*”Should we really leave?”* I whispered.
*”Shes seventy. What if something happens?”*
*”So we just endure?”*
He pulled me close. *”Maybe shell adjust understand.”*
I leaned into him. *”I just want us happy. Without interference.”*
*”Me too.”*
The telly droned onher pointed protest.
*”Tomorrow,”* James said suddenly, *”well see an estate agent.”*
*”And Margaret?”*
*”Let her be. Maybe shell realise were not servantswere her family.”*
Relief flickered in me. *”Dont tell her yet. Let her cool off.”*
*”Course not.”*
We finished the salads in silence. I imagined our own flatno listening ears, no critiques. Just us.
James stared out the window, probably worrying over his mum. Would she see this as betrayal?
The telly finally clicked off. Tomorrow would be more pretencepolite smiles for guests, pretending all was well. But after?
*”Decisions made,”* James said, as if reading my thoughts. *”We start flat-hunting tomorrow.”*
*”What if she cuts us off?”*
*”Her choice. Well visit, helpbut on equal terms.”*
I squeezed his hand. *”Thank you.”*
*”For what?”*
*”Choosing me. Not her.”*
His grip tightened. *”Youre my wife. No one gets a say in *us*.”*
The house settled. Tomorrow, Margaret might pretend nothing happenedor stew in silence. Either way, were done living by her rules.
For the first time in years, I can breathe.
