My son lives here, so Im staying too, Mrs. Thompson declared as she stepped through the door of the flat.
Lets head to the market Saturday and pick up some seedlings, Emma said, pouring tea for her husband. Well get tomatoes and cucumbers for the garden.
Andrew nodded, scrolling through the news on his phone.
Sounds good. Lets leave early, otherwise the queues will be massive.
Deal, Emma replied, settling opposite him. And later we could pop into the cinema? Theres a new film Ive been meaning to see.
Andrew lifted his eyes from the screen and smiled.
Of course, love. It feels like ages since weve done anything just the two of us.
Emma let out a contented sigh. This was how she imagined every eveningquiet, planned weekends, no rush. After eight years of marriage theyd learned to treasure this steady domestic harmony.
The phone rang. Andrew glanced at the screen, his brow tightening.
Its Mum, he muttered. She rarely calls at this hour.
Answer it, Emma prompted.
Hello, Mum, Andrew switched to speakerphone. Whats wrong?
Andrew, darling, Ive got news! Valerie Thompsons voice crackled with excitement. Ive sold my flat!
Emma and Andrew exchanged a startled look.
How could you? Andrew stammered. You never mentioned you were selling.
It just happened, the mother rushed on. Mrs. Patel next door mentioned her nephew needed a place. He offered a good price, I accepted. The moneys already transferred; we sign the papers tomorrow.
Hold on, Mum, Andrew rubbed his nose. Where will you live?
You have a spare room, dont you? Valerie replied as if it were obvious. Ill be there tomorrow with my things.
A chill ran through Emma. She turned to Andrew, who was speechless.
Mum, can we discuss this calmly? he finally managed. Come over, well talk.
Nothing to discuss, Mrs. Thompsons tone hardened. Im your mother; I have nowhere else to go. Ill be off nowlots to do. See you tomorrow.
The line clicked dead.
Shes joking, right? Emma whispered.
I dont know, Andrew ran a hand through his hair. Mum can be impulsive. Maybe shell explain everything tomorrow.
Emma knew her motherinlaw well. Valerie never joked about moving in with her son. If she said she was coming, it meant it.
That night Emma lay awake, picturing their home overrunValerie in the kitchen, the living room, everywhere offering unsolicited advice. She turned over and over while Andrew slept soundly beside her.
Morning found Emma exhausted. A note from Andrew perched on the kitchen table read: Love, dont worry. Well sort this with Mum tonight. I love you. She crumpled it. It was easy for him to say dont worry when his own mother was about to upend their life.
At work Emma could barely focus. Her colleague, Laura, noticed her gloom.
Hey, Emma, whats up? You look down.
Emma recounted the phone call. Laura shook her head.
Oh no, thats terrible. My sister went through the same thingher mother moved in and they split after three months.
Dont scare me, Emma warned, heart racing.
Just saying, you might be lucky. Maybe your motherinlaw is reasonable, Laura offered, patting her shoulder.
Emma forced a bitter smile. Reasonable, she echoed, thinking of Valeries constant critiques about cooking, laundry, and running a household.
That evening Emma arrived home earlier than usual, hoping for a moment alone before the inevitable arrival. She walked through each room their bright bedroom, the cosy living room where theyd watched countless films, the kitchen where shed spent countless evenings cooking. She lingered at the front door, as if saying goodbye to the life shed known.
The lock clicked. Andrew opened the door, followed by a stoic figure carrying a massive suitcase. Emma froze.
My son lives here, so Ill be staying too, Mrs. Thompson announced, stepping inside.
A mover stood behind her, lugging a second suitcase and a box.
Good morning, Emma, the older woman planted a kiss on Emmas cheek. Andrew, show me where I can put my things.
Andrew looked at Emma, guilt written across his face.
Mum, can we at least talk first? Have a cup of tea?
Talk later, Valerie snapped. Im exhausted from the journey. Show me the room, please.
We only have two rooms, Andrew began. The bedroom and the living room.
The living room will be mine, then, Valerie said as if it were the most natural thing. Is the sofa a pullout? Excellent. Young man, she turned to the mover, bring everything into that room.
Emma stood, stunned, as her living room their sanctuary for friends and eveningswas claimed.
Mum, Emma said firmly, cant we discuss this properly? You never gave us a headsup.
Valeries eyes hardened, a cold superiority flashing back.
This is my sons flat. Im his mother. I dont need permission.
But Im his wife! Emma burst out.
Exactly, wife, the mother emphasized. And Im mother. Blood ties.
Andrew was sandwiched between them, pale and helpless. Emma waited for him to defend her, but he remained silent.
Fine, Valerie paid the mover and closed the door behind him. What time for dinner?
I havent cooked anything, Emma snapped through clenched teeth.
No matter, the mother replied, marching to the kitchen. Ill make something myself. You lot cant live on ready meals forever.
Left alone in the hallway, Emma turned to Andrew, tears threatening.
Why didnt you tell her she couldnt just move in?
Shes my mother, Andrew said helplessly, hands raised. She truly has nowhere to go. She sold her flat.
And you didnt ask us? Discuss it? Emmas voice trembled. Do we even own this flat?
Of course not, Andrew tried to pull her into an embrace, but she stepped back. I understand its a shock, but shes not staying forever. Shell find a place soon.
She just sold her flat! Emma shouted. Wheres the money for a new one?
Andrew faltered. She invested it somewhere. Supposedly a good business deal.
Invested where? Emmas pulse raced. Explain!
I dont know the details, he admitted, eyes darting. Mum said it was a solid investmentsome friends venture.
Emma closed her eyes, the implication sinking in: Valerie had not just sold a property; shed possibly vanished with the proceeds, now leaning on them for shelter.
A clatter of dishes echoed from the kitchen, accompanied by an irritated mutter from the mother.
No proper pots! How can you cook properly like that?
Emma retreated to the bedroom, slammed the door, and collapsed onto the bed. For the first time in eight years she wanted to pack her things and leave. But where? And why should she abandon her own home?
An hour later Valerie called them to dinner. A steaming bowl of bangers and mash sat on the table.
Sit down while its hot, she instructed. Andrew, slice the bread.
Andrew obeyed. Emma ate in silence; the food smelled homey but she couldnt swallow a bite.
Whats wrong? Dont you like it? Valerie asked.
Just not hungry, Emma replied.
Strange, the mother remarked, sipping. A working woman should eat well. Maybe youre on a diet? You could stand to lose a few stone.
Emma clenched her fists beneath the table. The verbal assault had begun.
Mate, Andrew said, attempting to soothe, Emma looks great.
Thats not a compliment, its criticism, Valerie snapped. I just want my daughterinlaw to look her best.
Shes already beautiful, Andrew muttered, his cheeks flushing.
After dinner, the mother announced, Tomorrow Ill do a deep clean. Its been ages since youve really tidied up here.
Emmas teeth ground. She cleaned the flat every Saturday; everything shone.
Its clean enough for me, she said.
Only you think so, dear, Valerie replied condescendingly. My standards are higher. Remember, Andrew, you know what Im like.
Yes, Mum, he sighed.
That night, in the bedroom, Emma finally let the tears flow. Andrew, awkward, tried to hug her.
Please dont cry. This is temporary, he whispered.
How long? A month? A year? Forever? she sobbed.
I dont know, he admitted. Well figure something out.
You didnt stand up for me when she made that comment about my weight, Emma accused. You stayed silent.
I said youre beautiful! he protested weakly.
Only after she said it! Emma retorted, pulling away. This is my home too. I wont have youor your mothertelling me how to live!
Shes just used to running the house, Andrew tried to rationalise. She can do that in her own place.
Then let her live in her own place! Emma shouted. You cant have me choose between you and her.
Emma, stop being foolish, Andrew frowned. I love you, but shes my mother. I cant throw her out.
And I have to put up with her? Emma snapped. Shes not just visiting; shes taking over everything.
Andrews shoulders slumped. I dont know what to do.
Talk to her, Emma urged. Ask her to find somewhere else. We can help pay a deposit, but this flat is ours.
Andrew exhaled heavily. Alright. Ill speak to her.
Emma walked to the kitchen for a glass of water. Valerie sat at the table, tea steaming.
So, she said coldly, trying to turn my son against me?
I just want my own flat, Emma replied, exhausted.
This flat belongs to my son, Valerie retorted. I raised him, I fed him. Who are you? Just another daughterinlaw.
Ive been his wife for eight years, Emma said, anger fueling her words. Where were you all that time? Only now when you need a roof?
Valeries face paled. How dare you! Ive always cared for him.
Really? Emma countered. When he was ill, did you show up? No. When he lost his job, did you help? No. I was there for him.
I didnt know, Valerie whispered, bewildered.
Because you never asked, Emma said, her voice steadier. You called once a month, asked how you were, then talked about yourself.
Valerie lowered her gaze, tears glistening. I was lost after my husband died. I felt useless, so a friend suggested I invest in a scheme. I was duped. I sold the flat, thought I could hide the loss, not wanting to admit Id been foolish.
What scheme? Emma asked, curiosity cutting through anger.
Nothing, Valerie muttered, a bitter laugh escaping her. They vanished with my money.
Why didnt you tell us? Emma pressed. We could have helped.
It was shameful, Valerie admitted. Ive always prided myself on being independent. Now Im a gullible old lady.
Emmas fury softened into pity. You should have spoken to us like adults, not barged in and turned our life upside down.
Valerie nodded slowly. I understand now. I was trying to be useful, to prove I wasnt a burden.
The front door opened and Andrew stepped in, stopping at the sight of them seated together.
Whats happening? he asked gently.
Were having a hearttoheart, Emma said.
Andrew turned to his mother. Mum, why didnt you tell me about the fraud?
I was afraid youd think me foolish, she replied, eyes pleading.
And I never thought you were foolish, Andrew said, embracing his mother. We should have acted together.
Emma looked at both of them. Lets get a solicitor, see if we can challenge the sale. And lets report the scam to the police.
Good idea, Andrew agreed. Tomorrow well go to the station.
Also, we should find you a new place, Mum, Emma added. A modest flat nearby, so youre close but we each have space.
Valerie smiled through tears. Thank you, both of you. Im sorry for the chaos.
The three of them embraced, a tentative peace forming.
The next day the police took their statement, and a solicitor confirmed there was a chance to contest the transaction if they could prove Valerie had been misled. That evening, Emma showed Andrew a listing for a onebedroom flat a short walk from theirs, a reasonable price.
Well help with the deposit, Mum, Andrew offered.
Thank you, Valerie said, gratitude evident. I wont be a burden anymore.
A week later Valerie moved into the modest flat, Emma helped arrange the furniture, and even brought fresh flowers. Valerie promised to call before dropping by, and kept her word, visiting just a couple of times a week, always with a smile and a tray of biscuits.
Their relationship gradually settled. The constant criticism faded; the kitchen became a shared space again. One afternoon, while baking a Victoria sponge together, Valerie confessed, I used to think I owed my son everything, that I had to control everything. Now I see my place is to support, not dominate.
Emma smiled. We both matter to Andrewjust in different ways.
Valerie embraced her daughterinlaw. Thank you for taking me in and forgiving me.
Family, Emma replied, means exactly that.
Later, on the sofa that was finally theirs alone, Emma rested her head on Andrews shoulder.
You know, she whispered, I thought Id never get through this, but were stronger now.
Why? Andrew asked, surprised.
Because we learned to talk, not hide, not endure in silence, she answered. We faced the storm together.
He kissed her forehead. Youre brilliant, love. Im so proud of you.
They held each other as evening shadows fell over the quiet street, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm circle around them. The house, once a battleground, now felt like home againstill imperfect, but steadier, with a motherinlaw turned ally beside them.
