James finally introduced me to his mum, and she handed me a stack of thirty things Im supposed to do.
Emily Clarke, have you lost your mind? I laughed. This is absurd!
Not absurd, Poppy, he said, Just saying what I think.
But you cant just blurt out to the boss that their decisions are stupid!
Emily I mean I kicked back in my swivel chair, smirking. At thirtyfive Ive learned not to stay quiet when somethings off. My colleague and mate, Poppy, was fidgeting with her pen, glancing at the office door.
Emily, if we keep quiet nobody will ever think were worth anything. The new project is a disaster and I said so.
And now? she asked.
Now? Nothing. Let them think what they want. I said my piece, my conscience is clear.
Poppy shook her head and went back to her screen. I checked my phone three missed calls from James. I smiled. Hed walked into my life six months ago and everything changed. After a failed marriage that ended five years back, I never expected to fall in love again. James was different attentive, caring, reliable.
I called him back.
Hey, love. How are you?
Fine. Just had another tiff with the boss.
Youre impossible, his voice was warm. Listen, I need to have a serious chat.
Whats up?
Nothing bad. Just mum wants to meet you. Were heading to her place this weekend.
Meeting the mother felt like a big step. James had told me loads about her. Margaret Whitfield, sixtyeight, a widow living alone in a detached house out in the Surrey countryside. By his accounts she was strict but fair.
Are you sure? Isnt it a bit early? I asked.
Emily, weve been together half a year. Its time. Mum keeps asking when Ill introduce her to the woman I keep talking about.
Alright, I sighed. Saturday then?
Yes. Ill pick you up at ten. Dont worry, everything will be fine.
The rest of the week flew by in prep. I bought a modest darkblue dress that hit my knees, picked out a box of quality chocolates and a bunch of chrysanthemums James said his mum loved those blooms.
Friday night I rang Poppy.
Can you believe it? Im meeting his mum tomorrow.
Wow, thats serious! Nervous?
Terrified. What if she doesnt like me?
Dont worry, youre brilliant. What could she possibly not like?
James says shes strict. What if she decides Im not good enough for her son?
Emily, stop overthinking. Itll be fine.
Still, I was a bundle of nerves. I slept poorly, kept getting up for water. In the morning I agonised over my hair let it down or pull it back. I ended up with a neat bun.
James arrived right at ten, looking sharp in dark trousers, a white shirt and a blazer Id never seen him so formal.
You look gorgeous, he said, kissing my cheek.
Thanks, you too. You look like a groom.
He gave a strange smile and said nothing more. The drive took about an hour. He chattered about work and holiday plans, but I was only halflistening. The closer we got to his mums house, the tighter my chest felt.
The house was a big twostorey with a tidy garden. At the gate, Margaret was already waiting on the porch tall, dignified, dressed in a smart suit, grey hair neatly brushed, an unreadable expression.
Hello, Mum, James kissed her cheek. Emily, meet my mother.
Hello, Mrs Whitfield, I said, handing over the flowers and chocolates. Its a pleasure.
She scanned me from head to toe, took the gifts and gave a curt nod.
Come in.
Inside was spotless not a speck of dust, everything in its place. The living room had heavy furniture and family photos in matching frames.
Please, have a seat, she said, pointing to the sofa. Would you like some tea?
Yes, thank you.
While she disappeared to the kitchen, I stared at the pictures James as a kid in school uniform, in a military outfit, at his university graduation. In every shot his mum was by his side; his dad appeared only in very old photos.
My dad died when I was fifteen, James said quietly, noticing my stare.
Margaret returned with a tray teapot, cups, a sugar bowl, all matching. She poured the tea and sat opposite me.
So, Emily. James has told me a lot about you.
I hope only good things.
A bit of everything, she sipped. Youre an accountant?
Yes, with a construction firm.
Were you married before?
I tensed. Id expected the question, but it still felt uncomfortable.
I was. Divorced five years ago.
Any children?
No.
Why did you split?
James shifted uneasily on the couch.
Maybe I shouldnt, he began.
James, I have a right to know who my son is seeing, Margaret said sharply, turning to me. So why?
Our personalities just didnt click, I replied calmly.
Thats an excuse. Whats the real reason?
I took a deep breath.
My ex cheated. I found out and filed for divorce.
I see.
And why no kids?
It just never happened.
Any health issues?
Jamess voice rose.
Mum! If she has fertility problems I need to know. I want grandchildren.
I felt my cheeks flush. The conversation was veering nowhere Id imagined.
I have no health problems. Its just that the marriage didnt work out.
Margaret set her cup down.
Now, about the matter at hand. James may not have told you, but our family has certain traditions and rules. If you intend to become part of this family, you need to know and follow them.
She stood, walked to a side cabinet, fetched a folder and handed me a stack of papers.
Whats this? I asked, bewildered.
A list of expectations for a future daughterinlaw. Thirty points. Read them carefully.
I glanced at James, who stared at the floor. I unfolded the list.
Point one: The daughterinlaw must visit her motherinlaw at least twice a week.
Point two: She must be able to cook every recipe in the family cookbook.
Point three: She must bear a minimum of two children within the first three years of marriage.
Point four: She may not work after the birth of her first child.
Point five: She must get any major purchase approved by her motherinlaw
And it went on how to dress, how to run the household, how to raise the kids, even what hairstyle to wear.
Youre kidding, right? I looked up.
Im not joking, Margaret said coolly. These are serious requirements. My late daughterinlaw, the wife of my eldest son, followed them to the letter.
You had an eldest son?
Yes, Andrew. He died in a car crash with his wife three years ago. James is now my only son, and I wont let him end up with the wrong woman.
I turned to James.
Did you know about this list?
He nodded, eyes still on the floor.
And you said nothing?
I hoped Mum would change her mind, or that youd agree.
Agree to this? I snapped, throwing the sheets onto the table. Its medieval!
Dont dramatise, Margaret snapped, pursing her lips. These are reasonable expectations for a proper lady.
Reasonable? Point fifteen says I must hand over my salary!
For the family budget. Ill allocate the money properly.
Point twentytwo says I cant meet my friends without your permission!
A married woman has no business gallivanting with friends.
And point twentyeight? I have to live with you for the first year after the wedding?
So I can teach you how to run a household correctly.
I shook my head.
This is madness. James, how could you bring me here knowing all this?
Emily, lets talk calmly
Talk about what? You trying to turn me into a servant?
How dare you! Margaret rose, her face flushing. Im offering you honest terms. In return youll have a wonderful husband, a secure life, a family.
Im not a piece of merchandise you can buy!
All women are for sale, just at different prices, she said icily.
I grabbed my bag.
James, drive me home. Now.
Emily, wait
If she leaves now without accepting my terms, its over between you two, his mother cut in.
James stood, looked at his mother, then at me. His eyes pleaded.
Emily, maybe youll reconsider? Not all points are set in stone, we can discuss.
All of them are nonnegotiable, Margaret interjected. No exceptions.
I stared at James. He was caught between me and his mum, and it was clear whose side he was on.
Take me home, I whispered.
The drive back was silent. James tried to speak a few times, but I turned to the window. When we stopped at my house, he turned to me.
Emily, lets talk.
About what? That youve been lying to me for six months?
I didnt lie! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, gave me flowers, talked about love. Yet you knew your mum had this list.
I hoped shed change her mind once she got to know you better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot wholl obey her.
Mums just lonely. After her husband and brother died shes alone. Im all she has.
And what do you have, James? Besides mum?
He fell silent.
Youre thirtyseven. Youre an adult. Yet you cant decide without mums approval.
Its not like that
Exactly like that. Im not even angry, I feel sorry for you.
She stepped out of the car, I followed.
Emily, wait! I love you!
I stopped at the doorway, turned.
If you loved me, you wouldnt have put me through this humiliation. Goodbye, James.
I slammed the door, kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the sofa. Tears rose, but I held them back. No more crying over men who arent worth it.
My phone buzzed. It was Sophie.
How did it go? Did she like you?
Sophie, it was a nightmare.
What happened?
I spilled the whole story. She gasped.
Shes insane! And James? He brought you there like a lamb to the slaughter.
He says he loves me.
He loves his mum. To him you were just a pastime.
Dont say that.
Its true. A decent bloke would never let that happen.
I knew Sophie was right, but my heart still ached. I loved James, and love doesnt switch off with a snap.
That evening James texted: Emily, lets meet, Ill explain everything. I didnt reply. Then another: Ill talk to my mum, get her to soften the list. Still silence from me. Later: I cant live without you. Please answer. I switched the phone off.
The next morning at work I tried to focus on numbers, but the thirtypoint list kept flashing in my mind. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century demand such things?
Miss Clarke, you have a visitor, the receptionist announced.
Who?
An elderly lady, says its a personal matter.
I frowned. Was it really?
In the meeting room sat Margaret, shoulders straight, handbag on her knee.
What are you doing here? I asked.
We need to talk.
We have nothing to discuss.
There is. Five minutes of your time.
Curiosity won. I ushered her in.
I left unfinished yesterday.
I heard enough.
No. You dont know the whole story.
I dont want to know.
My eldest son Andrew married against my wishes, Margaret began, staring out the window. I opposed his wife, she was reckless, flaky. I knew it wouldnt end well.
And?
They married. A year later she cheated. He forgave her, again and again. Then they died in a crash. She was with a lover.
I stayed silent.
I found her letters after they died. She mocked my son, called him a rag, spent his money on someone else.
Im sorry, but
I dont want history to repeat. James is my only son. I must protect him.
Protect? Youre strangling him!
Im caring for him.
Youve turned him into a puppet who cant step out without your sayso.
Margaret pursed her lips.
Ive made a decent man out of him.
A decent man who at thirtyseven still lives with his mum and cant disagree with her.
He doesnt live with me. He has his own flat.
But you make the decisions.
She stood.
I see no point continuing. Just remember if you dont accept my terms, James will find someone else who will.
Let him look. Hell only find another spineless one.
She left, I stayed seated, the weight of her story heavy but not justification.
The day dragged. James called several times; I ignored. Later, leaving the office, I spotted his car in the lot. He stood by it, waiting.
Emily, please hear me out.
James, your mum already came. I know everything about your brother.
She did? he seemed surprised.
She tried to explain her position.
What did you decide?
What do you think?
He lowered his head.
Emily, I truly love you. But mum shes all I have left of my family.
James, you could have your own family. A wife, kids. But your mum wont let you.
Shell if the woman accepts her conditions.
You dont get it. No normal woman would sign up to that. If she did, itd be out of greed, not love.
Youre wrong
Youre right, James. Deep down you know it.
He stayed silent, staring at his shoes.
You know what? I wish you happiness. Really.
But youre a puppet in your mums hands.
He left, leaving me with a swirl of feelings. Part of me wanted to chase after him, stop him. Rational part knew a man only changes if he wants to, and he didnt.
Weeks later Sophie announced, James got married. A lavish wedding, all organized by Margaret. The bride looked happy, the groom resigned.
Can you believe my acquaintance was there? He was drinking most of the night and barely smiled.
Sophie, lets not dwell on it.
Alright, but I know a guy I want you to meet.
Thanks, but Im not ready.
Emily, its been six months!
I know. Just give me more time.
By then Id settled into a new rhythm work, home, catchups with friends. I heard James was dating a much younger woman, a pale blonde who seemed terrified. Margaret was scolding her, the girl nodding meekly. James stood silent.
I slipped away, heart aching for all of them him, his mother, the girl. They were all trappedAnd as I walked away, I finally felt the weight lift, knowing I had chosen my own path.
