HE WILL LIVE WITH US
The insistent ringing of the doorbell cut through the quiet of the modest flat on a damp London evening. Maggie slipped off her apron, wiped her hands on a towel, and moved toward the front door. On the threshold stood her daughter, Emma, arminarm with a lanky young man.
Hey, Mum, Emma planted a quick kiss on Maggies cheek. Meet David. Hell be staying with us.
Hello, the young man said, trying a polite smile.
This is my mother, Aunt Maggie, Emma added.
Maggie Thompson, the woman corrected, smoothing her hair.
Mum, whats for dinner? Emma asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
Pea purée and sausages, Maggie replied.
I dont eat pea purée, David muttered, shrugging as he slipped into the hallway.
Emmas eyes widened. Mum, David wont have peas!
David dropped his battered backpack onto the sofa, the sound echoing off the stale carpet. This is actually my room, Maggie said, gesturing to the narrow space.
Come on, David, Ill show you where well be staying, Emma called, tugging at his sleeve.
Im fine here, he grumbled, pulling himself up from the sofa.
Darling, think of something to feed David, Maggie prompted.
I havent the foggiest idea. Weve only got half a pack of sausages left, Maggie shrugged.
Just throw some mustard and ketchup on them, add a slice of bread, and were set, David replied.
Fine then, Maggie muttered, heading to the kitchen. Shed once filled this flat with rescued kittens and stray puppies; now she was feeding an unexpected soninlaw.
She ladled a thick pea mash onto a plate, laid two fried sausages beside it, nudged a small bowl of salad into view, and sat down with a weary appetite. The clatter of plates filled the cramped kitchen.
Mum, why are you eating alone? Emma entered, surprise flickering across her face.
Because Ive just got back from work and Im starving, Maggie said, chewing on a sausage. If anyone wants more, they can help themselves or cook it. And I have a question for you: why is David moving in?
Because hes my husband, Emma blurted.
Maggies fork paused midair.
Husband?
Yes, thats the idea. Im already nineteen, you know.
You didnt even invite us to a wedding, Maggie snapped.
There was no wedding. We just signed the papers. Now were husband and wife, so well be sharing this flat, Emma said, eyes flicking to her mothers halfeaten plate.
Maggie managed a thin smile. Congratulations, then. Why no ceremony?
If youve got money for a wedding, you could give it to us. Well find a use for it, Emma replied.
Got it, Maggie said, still chewing. Why here?
Because their onebedroom flat is already occupied by four people. We didnt even consider renting elsewhere, Emma explained.
So you wont be looking at a new place? David asked, eyeing the cramped living room.
Why bother when I have my own room? Emma answered.
Maggie sighed. Will you at least put some food on the table?
The stews on the stove, sausages in the pan. If thats not enough, theres half a pack in the fridge. Help yourselves, Emma called out.
Mum, youve got a new soninlaw now, Emma added, the words hanging heavy.
What? Im not supposed to break into a dance because of that, Maggie snapped back. Im exhausted after work. Take care of yourselves.
Thats why youre still single! Emma shot back, slamming the bedroom door shut.
Maggie finished her dinner, washed the dishes, wiped the table, and retreated to her bedroom. She changed into workout clothes, grabbed her gym bag, and headed to the local fitness centre. She was a free woman, spending several evenings a week at the pool and the weights.
Near ten oclock she shuffled back home, hoping for a hot cup of tea. The kitchen was a disaster. The lid of the stews pot was missing, the mixture had dried and cracked. An empty sausage packet lay on the counter, next to a stale loaf of bread without its bag. The frying pan was scorched, its nonstick coating scraped with a fork. Dishes piled in the sink, and a sticky sweet puddle glistened on the floor. The air reeked of cigarette smoke.
What a mess, Maggie muttered, the scene unlike anything Emma had ever allowed. She opened the bedroom door and saw Emma and David on the sofa, wine glasses halffilled, cigarettes dangling from their fingers.
Emma, clean this up. Well buy a new pan tomorrow, Maggie said, stepping back into her room, leaving the door ajar.
Emma leapt up, fury flashing in her eyes. Why should we clean? I cant afford a new panIm still a student. Do you even care about the dishes?
The house rules are simple: eat, then clean; make a mess, then clean; break something, replace it. Everyone looks after themselves. That pan wasnt cheap, and now its ruined, Maggie replied calmly.
You dont want us here, Emma snapped.
No, Maggie answered evenly. Ive got my own share to protect.
Emmas voice rose, trembling with anger. Ive lived my whole life under your rules. Im married now; you have no right to tell me what to do. And youre old enough to give us the flat.
Im giving you the whole hallway in the building, even a bench outside. Did you even ask me if I was happy to get married? Youre staying here alone, or with a husband elsewhere. He wont live here, Maggie said, her tone icecold.
Enough of this flat! David, were moving out, Emma shouted, gathering her things.
Within minutes, David staggered into the room, a halflit bottle wobbling in his hand. Dont worry, Mum, everythingll be fine. We wont disappear tonight. Behave, and well keep things quiet, he slurred.
What are you talking about, you fool? Maggie snapped. Your dad and I are still here. Take your new wife and go.
David raised his fist, aiming it at Maggies nose.
Hold on Maggies fingers clenched around his wrist, nails digging in.
Let go of me, Emma screamed, trying to pull her mother away.
Maggie shoved Emma aside and kicked David in the groin, then elbowed his neck. Ill document this assault, he snarled, pulling a phone from his pocket. Ill take you to court.
Ill call the police now so they can record everything, Maggie warned.
The young couple fled the tidy twobedroom flat, slamming the door behind them.
Youre no longer my mother, Emma shouted, her voice echoing down the hallway. Youll never see my grandchildren.
Such a pity, Maggie replied, a wry smile playing on her lips. At least Ill have some peace.
She glanced at her handsone nail split, another broken. Youve only brought loss, she muttered.
She washed the kitchen again, dumped the ruined stew, tossed the scorched pan, and changed the locks. Three months later, Emma appeared at Maggies doorstep after work, gaunt, cheeks hollowed, eyes dull.
Mum, whats for dinner? she asked, voice thin.
I havent decided yet, Maggie replied, shrugging. What do you want?
Chicken and rice, Emma whispered, then added, and a bit of salad.
Then lets get the chicken, Maggie said. Youll have to sort out the salad yourself.
Emma didnt press any further. David never returned to their lives again.
