“You have no right to behave like this in my home!” Emily’s voice trembled with barely contained fury. She stood in the hallway, clutching her handbag to her chest like a shield.
“This is my flat, Margaret! Mine!”
Something like contempt flickered in her mother-in-laws eyes.
“And what am I supposed to do if you cant keep things tidy yourself?” Margaret hissed through clenched teeth. “Dust on the shelves, dirty dishes in the sink. Is this how decent people live?”
Emily gripped the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. Inside, resentment and helplessness churned like a storm.
“I work, Margaret! I dont always have time”
“You must make time for what matters,” Margaret cut her off, chin lifted as she marched toward the door. “Im only trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?”
The door clicked shut, leaving Emily alone in the silent flat. The quiet pressed against her ears, but inside, the storm still raged. She kicked off her heels and wandered from the living room to the kitchen, then the bedroomeverywhere marked by Margarets so-called “help.”
But the bedroom Margaret must have finished just moments before she arrived. The hand cream was missing from the nightstand. The little souvenir figurine from their holiday was gone from the dresser.
Emily paced like a caged animal, hands shaking with anger. Shed come home exhausted, dreaming of a shower and tea in her favourite mug Now, nothing was where it should be.
The front door clicked. James was back from work. One look at his wifes lost expression in the kitchen, and he knewsomething was wrong.
“Em, whats happened?” He moved to hug her, but she twisted away.
“Your mother was here again!” Emilys voice cracked. “She was tidying our bedroom, James! The bedroom! Do you not see how wrong that is?”
James sighed deeply, running a hand through his haira gesture Emily knew too well. He did it when he had no answer.
“Em, she just wants to help”
“Help?!” Emilys eyes darkened. “I cant find my phone charger! My favourite mugs goneIve been looking for half an hour! And the bath towels? Shes hidden them somewhere!”
James reached for her hands, but Emily stepped back.
“She throws things away, James!” Emily wiped at her eyes. “Things that matter to me! And she calls them rubbish!”
“Em, Mum just cares in her own way,” James said gently. “Shes used to everything being in its place”
“Im sick of her kind of care!” Emily snapped. “Im tired of another woman ruling my home! Your mother moves my things, decides what I needIve had enough, James!”
She sank into a chair, covering her face. Her shoulders shook. James hesitated, then carefully put his arms around her.
“Im sorry, love. Ill talk to her, alright? Ill ask her to stop.”
Emily let out a bitter laugh.
“Oh, shell listen to you. Im sure of that.”
James managed to calm her. He made tea, found her mugtucked in the back of the cupboard.
But Margaret didnt stop.
Three days later, Emily came home and knew at onceMargaret had been there again. The air smelled of her heavy, sweet perfume. The kitchen jars had been rearranged by size. The fridge was organised with infuriating precision.
Exhausted, Emily collapsed onto the sofa. Anger simmered, but she had no energy left to fight.
A week later, it happened again. This time, Margaret had “tidied” the wardrobe. Everything was rearranged. Emilys favourite dress, always hung within easy reach, was crumpled on the top shelf.
Standing before the open wardrobe, Emily swallowed back tears. Her home no longer felt safe. Every evening, she wonderedhad Margaret been here? What had she moved, hidden, thrown away this time?
On Friday evening, the phone rang.
“Yes, Mum Of course Saturday? Well be there Yes, Ill tell her.”
James turned to Emily with a guilty look.
“Mums invited us for dinner tomorrow. Says she has news.”
Emily froze.
“Do we have to go?”
“Em, dont be childish. Shes gone to trouble for us. Cooked your favourites.”
Saturday evening, they climbed the stairs to Margarets flatno lift in the old council building. Emily dragged her feet, each step heavier than the last. Shed rather be anywherework, a crowded Tube, even the dentistthan here.
“Itll be fine,” James squeezed her hand. “Mum made that pie you liked last time.”
Emily forced a smile.
Over dinner, Margaret chatted only with Jamesneighbours, telly, rising prices at the market. Emily pushed food around her plate in silence.
“Emily, not hungry?” Margaret finally addressed her.
“Just thinking,” Emily replied automatically.
“Well,” Margaret set down her fork, folding her hands. “My news. Im off to a spa retreat with Gloria. Ten days, for my health.”
“Brilliant, Mum!” James beamed. “You need a break.”
“Yes, well,” Margaret nodded, pulling a keyring from her apron pocket. “Heres my spare set. Just in case. And could you water my plants?”
Emily stared at the keys. Two on a plain metal ring. Slowly, a plan formed. She smiled.
The next week, Emily was in high spirits. Colleagues noticedshe hummed at her desk, smiled more.
“Youre cheerful,” James remarked over dinner. “Bonus come through?”
Emily smirked, waving him off.
“Just in a good mood.”
The day before Margarets return, Emily left work early. A doctors appointment, she said.
She stood outside Margarets door, heart pounding. “My turn,” she thought, turning the key.
On Sunday, they met Margaret at the station. She looked refreshed, chattering about treatments, new friends, the food.
“Imagineporridge with honey and nuts! Ill make it at home.”
Emily sat quietly in the backseat, stomach in knots.
Margaret opened her front doorand froze. She stepped inside, gaze darting around the hall.
“What what is this?” Her voice shook.
She rushed into the living room. Spotless, yesbut nothing was where it belonged.
“My figurines!” Margaret lunged for the display cabinet. “Where are they?”
She tore through the flat, checking drawers, cupboards. Her face flushed crimson. Finally, she whirled on Emily, eyes blazing.
“You! You did this!”
Emily lifted her chin, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Yes. Me.” She feigned innocence. “Dont you like it? I helped. Wanted to save you the trouble.”
James gaped, glancing between them, but stayed silent.
“And you know what?” Emily continued sweetly. “I threw out those old figurines. And the teacups. You never used themjust collected dust. Rubbish, right? Like my things you tossed.”
“You had no right!” Margaret shrieked. “My home! My things! How dare you?”
“You did the same in mine,” Emily said calmly. “Not nice, is it?”
“James!” Margaret turned to her son. “Are you hearing this?”
James opened his mouth, but Emily cut in.
“Look at the time! Weve got to go.” She hooked her arm through his. “But Ill be back, Margaret. Ill thank you properly for all your help!”
Without waiting for a reply, she dragged a stunned James outside. They descended in silence. Only on the pavement did he exhale.
“Bloody hell”
Emily grinned. Warm satisfaction spread through her chest. The plan had worked perfectly.
Two months passed. Margaret never set foot in their flat again.
“I won,” Emily thought with quiet triumph.
