I still recall the evening when the doorbell rang with that sharp, intrusive chime announcing a visitor. Margaret Hughes slipped off her apron, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, and went to answer. Standing on the threshold was her daughter, Emily, arminarm with a young man. Margaret let them in.
Hello, Mum, Emily planted a kiss on her cheek. Meet Victor Harthes going to be living with us.
Good evening, the young man said politely.
This is my mother, Aunt Maggie, Emily added.
Maggie Hughes, Margaret corrected her daughter.
Now, Mum, whats for dinner? Emily asked.
Pea purée and sausages, Margaret replied.
I dont eat pea purée, Victor said, shrugging as he stepped into the hallway.
Dont mind, Mum, Victor doesnt like peas, Emily said, eyes wide.
Victor dropped his rucksack on the sofa and sat down. This is actually my room, Margaret announced.
Victor, come on, Ill show you where well be staying, Emily called out, heading toward the bedroom.
Im quite happy right here, Victor muttered, rising from the sofa.
Mom, could you think of something to feed Victor? Emily asked.
Im not sure. We only have half a packet of sausages left, Margaret shrugged.
Ill manage with mustard, ketchup, and some bread, Victor answered.
Alright then, Margaret said, making her way to the kitchen. She had once taken in stray kittens and puppies, and now she was dealing with a new kind of household addition.
She ladled a serving of pea mash onto a plate, laid two fried sausages beside it, pushed a bowl of salad closer, and began to eat heartily.
Mum, why are you eating alone? Emily entered the kitchen.
Because Ive just come home from work and Im hungry, Margaret replied, chewing on a sausage. If anyone wants food, they should serve themselves or cook it. By the way, I have a question for you: why is Victor moving in with us?
How so? Victor asked. Hes my husband.
Margaret almost choked on her bite.
Husband? she repeated, bewildered.
Yes, thats right. Your daughter is an adult now and can decide whether to marry or not. Im already nineteen, Victor said matteroffactly.
You didnt even invite us to a wedding, Margaret muttered.
There was no wedding, just a civil ceremony. Now were husband and wife, so well be living together, Emily explained, glancing at her mothers stillchewing face.
Well, congratulations then. Why no wedding? Margaret asked.
If you have money for a wedding, you could give it to us and well find a way to spend it, Victor suggested.
Got it, Margaret said, continuing her dinner. Why here, though?
Because they have a onebedroom flat and four of us would be crammed into it, Victor replied.
So renting wasnt an option?
Why would we rent when I have my own room? Emily wondered aloud.
Understood, Margaret said.
Will you give us anything to eat? Victor asked.
The pot of mash is on the stove, sausages are in the pan. If thats not enough, theres half a packet left in the fridge. Help yourselves, Margaret said.
Mother, youve got a soninlaw now, Emily observed.
And what? Im supposed to break into a jig for that? Margaret snapped. Im exhausted from work; skip the ceremonial dancing. Use your own hands and feet to tidy up.
Thats why youre still single! Emily retorted, slamming her bedroom door shut in anger.
Margaret finished her meal, washed the dishes, cleared the table, and retired to her room. She changed into sportswear, grabbed a bag of clothes, and headed to the local leisure centre. As a freespirited woman, she spent several evenings a week at the gym and the pool.
Around ten oclock she returned home. Expecting a steaming cup of tea, she was instead met with a kitchen in chaos, as if someone had attempted to cook and given up. The lid from the mash pot was missing, the purée had dried and cracked, a packet of sausages lay open on the counter, and stale bread sat unwrapped nearby. The frying pan was scorched, its nonstick coating scraped with a fork. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a sticky sweet puddle stained the floor, and the air smelled faintly of cigarettes.
Good grief, this is new. Emily never let anything like this happen, Margaret thought.
She opened the bedroom door. The young couple were drinking wine and smoking.
Emily, clean this mess up. Youll buy a new pan tomorrow, Margaret said, retreating to her own room without closing the door.
Emily leapt from her seat and chased after her mother.
Why should we clean? And where am I supposed to get money for a new pan? I dont work, Im studying. Do you care about the dishes? she protested.
Remember the house rules, love: eat, then clean; make a mess, then clean; break something, replace it. Everyone looks after their own mess. And yes, Im sorry about the panit wasnt cheap, and now its ruined, Margaret explained calmly.
You dont want us to stay here, Emily snapped.
No, Margaret replied evenly. She had no desire to argue with her daughter; shed never seen this kind of trouble from Emily before.
But I have a share, Emily insisted.
No. The flat is entirely mine; I earned it, I bought it. Youre only on the lease. Dont expect me to solve your problems. If you want to stay, follow the rules, Margaret said, her voice steady.
Ive lived my whole life by your rules. Im married now, and you cant tell me what to do, Emily shrieked. Besides, youre old enough to give us the flat.
Ill give you the hallway in the block and a bench outside. Did you even ask me if you were getting married? You spend the night here alone, or with a husband elsewhere. He wont be living here, Margaret replied firmly.
Fine, youll see, Victor. Were leaving, Emily declared, gathering her belongings.
Within minutes a freshlywedded soninlaw stumbled into the living room, reeking of cheap gin.
Alright, Mum, dont make a fuss and all will be well, he slurred, swaying. Emily and I arent going anywhere tonight. If you behave, well even be discreetly affectionate later.
What am I to you, mother? Margaret shouted, horrified. Your mother and father are still here, so stop barking at the door and dont forget to fetch your new bride.
Just you wait the young man snarled, raising his fist toward his motherinlaw.
Maggie clutched his wrist with manicured fingers, squeezing with all her strength.
Let go of me, you lunatic! he roared.
Mother, what are you doing? Emily cried, trying to pull her mother away from the intruder.
Maggie shoved Emily aside, drove a knee into Victors groin, then elbowed his neck.
Ill make a record of the assault, the drunken man shouted. Ill sue you.
Hold on, Ill call the police so they can document everything, Margaret said coolly.
The young couple fled the tidy twobedroom flat, leaving Margaret alone.
Youre not my mother any more, Emily shouted as she left, and youll never see your grandchildren.
What a pity, Margaret replied with a wry smile. Ill finally have a moment to myself.
She looked at her handsone nail split cleanly. All I get from you lot is loss, she muttered.
After they were gone, she scrubbed the kitchen clean, threw away the ruined mash and the cursed pan, and changed the locks. Three months later, while on her way to work, she met Emily outside the office. Her daughter looked gaunt, her cheeks hollow, and she seemed utterly despondent.
Mum, what are we having for dinner? Emily asked.
I havent decided yet, Margaret said, shrugging. What would you like?
Chicken and rice, Emily whispered, eyes glossy. And a bit of salad.
Then lets get the chicken, Margaret replied. Youll have to sort out the salad yourself.
Emily asked nothing more, and Victor never resurfaced in their lives again.
