Ill come in whenever I wantIve got a key, my mother-in-law announced before barging into our bedroom at five in the morning
The screech of the lock made me freeze, a damp cloth still in my hand. Id been scrubbing at a sticky jam staincourtesy of Ireneand I knew that sound immediately.
Paul was still asleep. Sunday morning, half-eight.
The door swung open, and there she stoodmy mother-in-law. In one hand, a string bag with something green poking out; in the other, a lead attached to her tiny, permanently trembling dog.
Laurie love, still in bed? she chirped, stepping right in. Brought you some fresh dill from the allotment.
I straightened up, my spine stiffening.
Morning, Irene. Were asleep. Well, Paul is.
She ignored me and floated toward the kitchen. The dog gave a half-hearted yap and scampered after her.
I was ever so quiet! No need to fuss. Just thought Id pop by after the marketsave you buying the shop stuff, full of chemicals.
I followed, watching my one lazy morning of the week crumble.
Wed have managed. Or you couldve rung. Wed have come down.
She turned, her gaze sharp and appraising, sliding over my old T-shirt, bare feet, and messy hair.
Laurie, dont be silly! Why should you trouble yourselves? Ive got keys!
She said it like shed handed me the keys to the kingdom. Not *our* flat.
That evening, I finally spoke up. Paul was sprawled on the sofa, idly scratching his stomach while some drama played on telly.
Paul. We need to talk about your mum.
He sighed without looking away from the screen. Again? She just brought some dill.
She let herself into our flat at half-eight on a Sunday. No call, no knock. Thats not normal.
Whats the big deal? Shes family.
I sat beside him, snatched the remote, and muted the telly. The sudden silence made my words louder.
Paul, this is *our* home. I want to walk around naked if I fancy it. I dont want to wake up to the sound of someone turning our lock.
Oh, come off it, he scoffed. Naked? Really? Mums just being caring.
Then she can care from the doorstep. Or at least ring first. Lets ask for the keys back.
He jolted like Id scalded him. Are you mad? Take Mums keys? Thats heartless! Shes given me everythingyou want me to shut her out?
Shes shutting *us* out of our own lives! I snapped.
He stared at me like Id suggested robbing a bank. Fear. Confusion. To him, his mum with keys was as natural as the sun rising.
A week later, light flooded the bedroom.
Five in the morning.
Irene stood in the doorway, a mac thrown over her nightie, squinting in the glare. She held Pauls phone.
Paul, love, you forgot this, she whispered conspiratorially. Saw it on the side when you left. Couldnt have you at work without it
I sat up, clutching the duvet to my chin. My heart hammered. Paul mumbled and rolled over.
Ignoring me, she tiptoed to his side and set the phone down. Then she eyed the room like a disapproving landlord.
Bit dusty in here, Laurie. Needs a proper wipe-down.
And with that, she left. The front door clicked shut.
I sat under the harsh light, staring at my sleeping husband. He hadnt even stirred. He didnt get it. The line hadnt just been crosseditd been erased.
When he finally woke and Icalmlytold him about the visit, he just shrugged.
Laurie, she meant well. Worried about me.
Paul. She walked into our *bedroom*. At *five*.
So? She wasnt naked. Shes *Mum*.
That afternoon, I rang her myself. Hands shaking, voice steady.
Irene. About this morning.
Yes, dear? Not a flicker of guilt.
Please dont come over unannounced. Especially not that early. Especially not our bedroom.
Silence. Then, ice-cold: I dont know what your problem is, girl. I raised my son, put money into this flat. Remember thisIll come when I please. Ive got keys.
The line went dead.
Paul had heard it all. He looked away.
Well? Nothing to say?
He studied the wallpaper. You pushed her. Of course she reacted like that.
*Pushed* her? By asking her not to barge into our bedroom?
You couldve been nicer, he muttered. Youre never happy. Mum tries, and you
I walked out.
That night, a wall went up between us. He slept on the sofa, sighing loudly.
A week of quiet. Irene stayed away, but her presence lingeredin Pauls stiff shrugs, his muttered Just Mum after long phone calls.
I felt like a stranger in my own home.
Then, midweek, I came down with flu. Throat on fire, head splitting. I ran a bath, sank into lavender-scented steam, and nearly dozed offuntil I heard it.
The scrape of a key in the lock.
I froze. Paul wasnt due home for hours.
The door creaked open. A familiar yap.
Lets see how Lauries keeping house, Mitzy, Irene trilled. Probably dusty again.
I sat rigid, water turning cold. Heard her rummaging, tutting at the fridge.
Knew it. Barely a scrap in here. Poor Pauls starving.
She was *feet* away. I pictured her yanking open the bathroom door. The terror was physical.
When she moved to the kitchen, I slipped out, wrapped in a towel, and stepped into the hall.
She was inspecting my bookshelf.
Oh! Youre home? No shame. Brought you chicken soup. Paul said you were poorly.
She gestured to a Tupperware on the coffee table.
Didnt need to, I croaked. I *asked* you to call.
Dont be silly! Who elsell look after you? Pauls at work, and youre here alone, sick
She reached for my forehead. I flinched.
Dont.
That evening, when Paul got home, I was done.
I told him everythingthe fear, the humiliation, the mocking Tupperware of soup.
He listened. Then:
Laurie, I dont get you. Mum *brought soup*. She cares. Maybe the problems you.
That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside me, Paul snored softly. The man who shouldve had my back. But hed chosen.
So I chose too.
Next morning, the second he left, I googled: *Locksmith. Emergency. 24/7.*
The guy arrived in an hourburly, tired-eyed, worked fast. The drills whine was music. Every screech a cry of freedom.
When he handed me two shiny new keys, I nearly cried.
All yours, love.
I paid, shut the door behind him, and turned the lock. Twice.
Perfect.
All day, I waited for Paul like a soldier for battle. Cooked dinner. Rehearsed lines.
He came home exhausted, slung his briefcase on a chair.
Hi.
Hi. I held out a key. This is yours. I changed the locks.
He stared. *What?* Why?
Because I wont live like this. No one walks into our home uninvited.
His face darkened. You did this *behind my back*? Youve locked out *Mum*?
Ive protected us. Our home.
Youve *broken* us! he shouted. What do I even *say* to her?
The truth. That her sons grown. Hes got his own life.
We screamed. I said it allthe fear, the betrayal. He didnt hear. Just ranted about duty, respect, how *cold* I was.
Thena sound.
The scrape of a key. Failed. Again. Then furious knocking.
Paul! Laurie! Open up! Whats wrong with the door?!
Paul froze. Looked at me. At the door. Where his mother was now hammering.
I *know* youre in there! Laurie, this is *your* doing!
He exhaled, walked over, and opened it.
Irene stormed in, wild-eyed, face twisted.
What have you *done*?! She jabbed a finger at me. Youve *locked me out*! After all I
Mum. Pauls voice was quiet.
She blinked. *Mum?* Look what shes
I see. Steel in his words now. I see my wife had to do this because no one listened. Least of all me.
He turned to her.
This is *our* home. Mine and Lauries. And you *never* walk in uninvited again. Understood?
Irene gaped.
Paul, love
No. Im a grown man. I decide who comes into my home. Now please leave.
Calm. Final.
She backed up, shot me a venomous look, and left.
Paul shut the door. Turned to me. Tears in his eyes.
Im sorry, he whispered. I was blind.
He pulled me into his arms. And I knewId won.
Not just the locks.
Id won back my husband. Our life.
