Hey love, you wont believe the drama Ive been tangled up in lately. So, my boyfriend Ian finally introduced me to his mum, and she handed me a stack of thirty demands like a contract for future wives. I thought, Marina Clarke, have you lost your mind? This is absurd!
Im just saying whats on my mind, she shot back, without a hint of humour.
But you cant just tell the boss their ideas are idiotic! I tried to protest.
Marina, whos thirtyfive and not one to bite her tongue when things go pear-shaped, leaned back in her swivel chair and smirked. Shed learned long ago that staying quiet only lets people walk all over you. My friend Sophie, who works with me, was fidgeting with her pen, eyeing the door.
Marina, if we keep quiet no one will ever think were anyone worth listening to. This new project is a disaster and Ive already said so.
What now?
Nothing. Let them think what they like. Ive spoken my mind, my conscience is clear.
Sophie shook her head and went back to her screen. Marina checked her phone three missed calls from Ian. She smiled. Hed popped into her life six months ago and turned everything upside down. After a failed marriage that ended five years ago, she never imagined falling for anyone again. But Ian was different attentive, caring, reliable.
She called him back.
Hey, sunshine, hows it going?
Fine, just had another row with the boss.
Youre hopeless, his voice was warm. Listen, I need to have a serious chat.
Whats up?
Nothing urgent, just mum wants to meet you. Were heading to her place this weekend.
Marina froze. Meeting the mother was a big step. Ian had told her a lot about her mum, Margaret Hayes, sixtyeight, widowed, living alone in a detached house out in the countryside. By his description she was strict but fair.
Are you sure? Isnt it a bit early?
Weve been together half a year. Its about time. Mum keeps asking when Ill finally bring her the woman I keep talking about.
Alright, Marina sighed. Saturday then?
Perfect. Ill pick you up at ten. Dont worry, everything will be fine.
The rest of the week was a whirlwind of prep. Marina bought a modest darkblue kneelength dress, packed a box of quality chocolates and a bunch of chrysanthemums Ian said his mum loves those flowers.
Friday night she rang Sophie.
Guess what, Im meeting his mum tomorrow.
Oh wow, thats serious! Are you nervous?
Terrified. What if she doesnt like me?
Youre wonderful, shell love you.
I dont know. He says shes strict. What if she thinks Im not good enough for her son?
Dont overthink it, youll be fine.
Even so, Marina was a bundle of nerves. She tossed and turned, getting up a few times for water. In the morning she agonised over her hair let it down or pull it back. She settled on a tidy bun.
Ian arrived right on the dot, looking dapper in black trousers, a crisp white shirt and a navy blazer a look she rarely saw him in.
You look stunning, he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Thanks, you too. Youre looking like a groom.
He gave a weird smile and said nothing more.
The drive took about an hour. Ian chatted about work and holiday plans, but Marina halflistened. The closer they got to Margarets house, the more her stomach flipped.
The house was a sizeable twostorey with a wellkept garden. At the gate they were greeted by Margaret, standing on the porch tall, dignified, dressed in a sharp suit, her silver hair neatly styled, expression unreadable.
Hello, Mum, Ian kissed her cheek. This is Marina.
Hello, Mrs. Hayes, Marina offered the flowers and chocolates. Pleasure to meet you.
Margaret gave her a measuring look from head to toe, accepted the gifts and nodded.
Come in, dear.
Inside was spotless every surface gleaming, every item in its place. The living room boasted solid furniture and family photos in matching frames.
Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?
Yes, thank you.
While Margaret disappeared to the kitchen, Marina examined the photos Ian as a child in school uniform, in a military cadet outfit, at his university graduation. In each picture his mother was beside him; his father appeared only in old, faded snaps.
I lost my dad when I was fifteen, Ian said quietly, noticing her stare.
Margaret returned with a tray teapot, cups, sugar bowl, all matching. She poured tea and settled opposite Marina.
So, Marina. Ian has told me a lot about you.
I hope only good things.
Various things, she sipped. You work as an accountant?
Yes, for a construction firm.
Were you married before?
Marina tensed. The question was expected but still uncomfortable.
I was. Divorced five years ago.
Any children?
No.
Why did you split?
Ian shifted uneasily.
Margaret, I have the right to know who my son is involved with, she said sharply, then turned to Marina. So why?
It was a personality clash, Marina answered calmly.
Thats an excuse. Whats the real reason?
Marina inhaled deeply.
My exhusband cheated. I found out and filed for divorce.
Understood, Margaret nodded. And no children because?
It just never happened.
Health issues?
Mom! Ians voice rose. If she has fertility problems I need to know. I want grandchildren.
Marina felt her cheeks flush. The conversation was far from what shed imagined.
Im healthy. The marriage just fell apart.
Margaret set her cup down. Now, onto business. You may not know this, but our family has certain traditions and rules. If you intend to become part of it, you must be aware of them.
She stood, walked to a side cabinet, retrieved a folder, returned and handed Marina a stack of papers.
Whats this? Marina asked, bewildered.
Its a list of requirements for the future daughterinlaw. Thirty items. Read carefully.
She glanced at Ian, who stared at the floor. She unfolded the sheet.
Item one: the daughterinlaw must visit her motherinlaw at least twice a week.
Item two: she must be able to prepare every dish from the family cookbook.
Item three: she must bear at least two children within the first three years of marriage.
Item four: she may not work after the birth of her first child.
Item five: any major purchase must be approved by the motherinlaw
With each clause her eyes widened. There were stipulations about clothing, household management, childrearing, even how her hair should be styled.
This a joke? she asked, looking up.
Im serious, Margaret replied coldly. My late daughterinlaw adhered to these without fail.
You have an older son?
Yes, hes gone. He died in a car crash with his wife three years ago. Ian is now my only child, and I wont let him marry unsuitable.
Marina turned to Ian.
Did you know about this list?
He nodded, not meeting her gaze.
And you said nothing?
I thought I hoped Mum would change her mind, or that youd go along.
This is medieval! Marina snapped, throwing the papers onto the table.
Dont dramatise, Margaret hissed. These are reasonable demands for a respectable woman.
Reasonable? Item fifteen says I must hand over my salary!
For the family budget. Ill allocate the money properly.
Item twentytwo says I cant meet friends without your permission!
A married woman has no need for idle gossip.
And item twentyeight? I must live with you for a year after the wedding?
So I can teach you how to run a proper household.
Marina shook her head.
This is madness. Ian, how could you bring me here knowing all this?
Marina, lets talk calmly
What are we talking about? That your mother wants to make me a slave?
How dare you! Im offering fair terms. In return youll have a wonderful husband, a comfortable life, a family.
Im not a commodity you can purchase!
All women have a price, just different ones, Margaret said icily.
Marina grabbed her bag.
Ian, drive me home. Now.
Im waiting
If she leaves now without accepting her terms, its over for you both, Margaret cut in.
Ian stood, looked first at his mother, then at Marina, pleading in his eyes.
Marina, maybe youll reconsider? Not every point is set in stone, we can discuss
Every point is nonnegotiable, Margaret interjected.
Marina stared at Ian, caught between the man she loved and his overbearing mother.
Take me home, she whispered.
The ride back was silent. Ian tried to speak, but Marina stared out the window. At her flat he stopped, turned to her.
Marina, please, lets talk.
What? About how youve been lying to me for six months?
I didnt lie! I just didnt know how to say it.
You took me to restaurants, bought flowers, spoke of love, yet you knew about this list.
I hoped shed change her mind once she got to know me better.
She doesnt even want to know me. She wants a robot to follow her orders.
My mum is lonely. After my dad and brother died shes all I have. Im everything to her.
What else do you have, Ian? Besides Mum?
He was silent.
Youre thirtyseven, a grown man. Yet you cant decide without your mother.
Its not like that
It is, Ian. And you know what? Im not angry, Im sorry for you.
She stepped out of the car, and Ian followed.
Marina, wait! I love you!
She stopped at the entrance, turned.
If you loved me, you wouldnt have put me through this humiliation. Goodbye, Ian.
She slammed the door, kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the sofa. Tears welled up, but she swallowed them. No more crying over men who dont deserve her tears.
Her phone buzzed it was Sophie.
So? Did his mum like you?
Nightmare.
What happened?
Marina recounted everything, Sophie gasping at the absurdity.
Shes bonkers! And Ian says he loves you.
He loves his mum more. To him you were just a pastime.
Dont say that.
Sophie, hes right. A decent bloke would never let his mother treat his partner like that.
Marina knew Sophie was right, but her heart still ached. She loved Ian, and love doesnt just switch off.
That evening Ian texted: Marina, lets meet, Ill explain everything. She didnt reply.
Later: Ill talk to my mum, get her to soften the demands.
And then: I cant live without you, please answer.
She turned the phone off.
The next morning at work she tried to focus on numbers, but the thirtypoint list kept flashing in her mind. How could anyone in the twentyfirst century still demand such things?
Ms. Clarke, theres a visitor, the secretary announced.
Who?
An elderly lady, says its a personal matter.
Marinas eyebrows knit. Could it be?
In the reception area sat Margaret, still in her suit, handbag on her knee.
What are you doing here? Marina asked, wary.
We need to talk.
We have nothing to discuss.
There is something to discuss. Give us five minutes.
Marina wanted to refuse, but curiosity won. She led the woman into the meeting room.
I left without hearing the whole story, Margaret began, pulling her skirt straight.
No, Ive heard enough.
Its not that simple.
My eldest son, Andrew, married against my wishes, Margaret said, eyes on the window. I disapproved of his wife, thought she was frivolous. He loved her, but I warned him.
What happened?
They wed, she cheated after a year. He forgave her, again, again. Then they both died in a crash. She was with a lover at the time.
Marina stayed silent.
I found their letters after they died. She mocked me, called me a rag, spent his money, loved someone else.
Im sorry, but
I wont let history repeat itself. Ian is my only son. I must protect him.
Protect? Youre suffocating him!
Im caring for him.
Youve turned him into a puppet who cant make a single decision without you.
Margaret pursed her lips.
Ive made him respectable.
A respectable thirtysevenyearold still living under his mothers roof, terrified to defy her.
You dont live with me. You have your own flat.
But you decide everything.
Margaret stood.
This conversation is pointless. If you dont accept my terms, Ian will find someone else someone who will.
Maybe hell find someone as spineless as he is.
She stared at Margaret with disdain and left.
Marina sat in the room, the story of Andrew explained a lot, but it didnt excuse turning a sons life into a prison.
The day dragged on. Ian called a few times, but she let it ring. Leaving the office, she saw his car parked. He waited.
Marina, please listen.
Ian, your mum was here. I know everything about your brother.
She was?
Yes. She tried to explain her side.
What did you decide?
You?
He lowered his head.
Marina, I truly love you. But mum shes all I have left of my family.
You could have a family of your own. But your mum wont let you.
Shell let you if you accept her conditions.
You dont get it? No sane woman would agree to that. Anyone who does would be with you for convenience, not love.
Youre not right
Youre right, Ian. Deep down you know it.
He stared at his shoes.
You know what? Marina sighed. I wish you happiness, truly. But you wont have it until you stand on your own.
Im independent!
No, youre a marionette in your mothers hands. Until you see that, nothing will change.
She walked past him to the bus stop. He shouted, Marina! Ill wait! Maybe youll change your mind!
She didnt look back.
A week later Ian was still texting daily, but she never answered. It hurt, yet she knew she was doing the right thing. You cant build a relationship on such a shaky foundation.
Friday Sophie dragged her to a café after work.
Stop sulking. Forget that mumman.
Im not sulking, just thinking.
Whats there to think about? He showed his true colours.
Sophie, he isnt a bad guy, just weak.
Do you need a weak man?
No, Marina shook her head. I dont.
Sophie was right you cant just erase half a year of memories. There were good moments, Ian was caring, but it was all under his mothers thumb.
Saturday she visited her own mum in the suburbs. Her mums little cottage was the opposite of Margarets pristine manor colourful, a bit chaotic, paintings on the walls, a cosy garden.
Marish, you look sad, her mum said, hugging her at the door.
Its fine, mum.
Dont lie to your mother. Whats up?
Over tea, Marina spilled the whole saga.
Honestly, Im glad it turned out this way.
Why?
Imagine marrying him without knowing all this. Itd have been worse.
So what now? Is a motherinlaw a dealbreaker?
My mum was decent, though. If shes reasonable, shes a blessing. If not, shes a curse.
How did you get on with your grandma?
My dads mum and I were friends. She treated me like a daughter, I treated her like a mother. Thats rare.
And Ian was on his mums side.
Exactly. That says a lot.
Marina hugged her mum, rested her head on her shoulder.
Mum, will I find a decent bloke?
Of course. Youre young, beautiful, smart. Just dont settle for less than you deserve.
That night, returning home, she felt lighter. Chatting with mum always helped her see things clearer.
At her flat, a surprise awaited: a huge basket of roses on the doorstep, a note reading Im sorry. IllShe smiled, tucked the roses into a vase, and finally felt ready to leave the past behind.
