Dear Diary,
Since my son lives here, Ill be staying as well, my motherinlaw announced as she stepped into the flat.
Eleanor poured tea for me and suggested, Lets head to the market on Saturday for seedlings tomatoes and cucumbers for the garden. I thumbed through the news on my phone and replied, Sounds good. Lets leave early, otherwise well end up in a queue.
Later, Eleanor settled opposite me and asked, Do you fancy a film tonight? Theres a new release Ive been meaning to see. I lifted my eyes from the screen and smiled, Of course, love. We havent had a night out just the two of us in ages. I let out a contented sigh; eight years of marriage had taught us to cherish these quiet evenings and weekend plans without any fuss.
My phone rang unexpectedly. I glanced at the caller ID and frowned. Its Mum, I said. She hardly ever calls at this hour.
Eleanor nudged me, Pick up.
Hello, Mum, I said, switching to speaker. Whats the matter?
Andrew, dear, Ive got news! my mother, Helen Clarke, chirped excitedly. Ive sold my flat!
Eleanor and I exchanged startled looks.
How could you sell it without telling anyone? I stammered. You never mentioned you were looking to move.
It just happened, Helen replied. Our neighbour Tamara mentioned her nephew was hunting for a place. He offered a good price, I accepted. The moneys already transferred; well sign the paperwork tomorrow.
Hold on, Mum, I said, rubbing my nose. Where will you live?
You have a spare room, dont you? she said as if that settled everything. Ill be there tomorrow with my things.
A cold shiver ran through me. Eleanor glanced at me, but I was at a loss for words.
Can we talk about this calmly? I managed to say finally. Come over, well discuss it.
My dear, theres nothing to discuss, Helen snapped, her voice hardening. Im your mother; I have nowhere else to go. Ill be off now, too many chores. See you tomorrow.
The line clicked off.
Is she kidding? Eleanor whispered.
Im not sure, I replied, running a hand through my hair. Mum can be impulsive. Maybe shell explain everything when she arrives.
But I knew Helen well enough to know she never joked about moving in with her sons family. If she said she was coming, she meant it.
That night I lay awake, picturing her in our kitchen, in the living room, constantly offering unsolicited advice. I turned over, watching Andrew sleep peacefully beside me.
Morning found me exhausted. Andrew had already left for work, leaving a note on the kitchen table: Eleanor, dont worry. Well sort this with Mum this evening. Love you. I crumpled the note. It was easy for him to say dont worry when his mother was about to upend our lives.
At work I couldnt concentrate. My colleague Laura noticed my gloom.
Whats up, Eleanor? You look down.
I explained the phone call.
Oh dear, Laura sighed. My sister went through the same thing. Her mother moved in and they split after three months.
Dont scare me, I whispered, feeling my heart skip.
Laura put a comforting hand on my shoulder. Im not trying to frighten you. Maybe your mother is reasonable after all.
I managed a bitter smile. Reasonable, I muttered. Helen always believed she was the only one who could cook a proper stew, do the laundry, and run a household correctly. Every visit turned into a barrage of remarks and corrections.
That afternoon I returned home early, hoping for a few quiet hours before Helen arrived. I walked through each room, saying a silent goodbye to the life wed built: the bright bedroom, the cosy living room where wed watched countless films, the kitchen where I loved to experiment with recipes.
The lock clicked, and Andrew entered, followed by I froze.
My son lives here, so Ill be staying too, Helen declared as she crossed the threshold, a massive suitcase in tow and two more bags stacked by the hallway. She planted a kiss on my cheek. Andrew, show me where I can settle in.
Andrew, looking guilty, said, Mum, can we talk first? Have a cup of tea before you unpack.
No need, Helen replied, waving a hand. Im tired from the long journey. Which room should I take?
We only have two rooms, Mum the bedroom and the living room, Andrew began.
The living room will be mine, then, she said as if it were obvious. Is the sofa a pullout?
Just a moment, she told the mover, place everything in the lounge.
I stared, stunned. Our living room? The space where we entertained friends and relaxed after work?
Mum, can we please discuss this? You didnt give us any notice.
Helen turned to me, her eyes cold and superior. Dear, this is my sons flat. Im his mother. I dont need permission from anyone.
But Im his wife! I blurted.
Thats exactly why Im saying it, she said, emphasizing the word. Im his mother, youre his wife.
Andrew stood between us, pale and helpless. I expected him to defend me, but he stayed silent.
Fine, Helen said, paying the mover and closing the door. What time shall we have dinner?
I havent cooked yet, I managed through clenched teeth.
No matter, she replied, heading to the kitchen. Ill whip something up. Youve been living on ready meals, havent you?
Left alone in the hallway, I asked Andrew, Why didnt you tell her she cant just move in?
Its my mother, he said helplessly, She really has nowhere else.
Didnt you ask us first? my voice trembled. Are we just furniture now?
He tried to hug me, but I pulled away. I understand this is sudden, but she wont be permanent. Shell find a place soon.
She just sold her flat! I shouted. Where will she get a new one?
He muttered, I think she invested the money somewhere maybe a friends business.
Invested where? I demanded, feeling my head spin.
He avoided my eyes. I dont know exactly. She said it was a good deal.
The kitchen filled with the clatter of pots and Helens disgruntled muttering: No decent saucepan! How can you cook like this?
I fled to the bedroom, slammed the door and collapsed onto the bed. For the first time in eight years I wanted to pack my things and leave. But where? And why should I abandon my own home?
An hour later Helen called us to dinner. She set out bowls of steaming beef stew.
Sit down while its hot, she commanded. Andrew, slice the bread.
Andrew obeyed. I remained silent, the stew smelling wonderful but sitting heavy in my throat.
Dont you like it? Helen asked.
Just not hungry, I replied.
She smirked, A working woman should eat well. Maybe youre on a diet? You could stand to lose a few pounds.
I clenched my fists under the table. The criticism had begun.
Andrew interjected, Eleanor looks great.
Helen retorted, I was only being caring. You want your wife to look beautiful, dont you?
Andrew mumbled, She already does. I saw his cheeks redden.
After dinner she announced, Tomorrow Ill give the house a deep clean. Its been a while since youve really tidied up.
I gritted my teeth. I cleaned every Saturday; the place always sparkled.
It looks clean to me, I said.
Only you think that, love, Helen replied smugly. Ive always prided myself on immaculate homes. Remember, Andrew?
Andrew sighed, Yes, Mum.
That night I finally let the tears flow. Andrew tried to comfort me, Please dont cry, love. Its only temporary.
How long? I sobbed. Months? Years? Forever?
I dont know, he admitted. But well figure something out.
You didnt stand up for me when she criticized my weight, I accused.
I said youre beautiful! he protested.
It was only after she kept repeating it! I snapped. This is my flat too. I wont let you control me.
He tried to smooth things over, Shes just used to being in charge.
Then let her be in charge of her own flat! I shouted, realizing my anger was justified. Do you choose her or me?
Eleanor, dont be foolish, Andrew frowned. I love you, but shes my mother. I cant kick her out.
So I just endure her antics? I asked, voice shaking.
He muttered, Shes only looking after us.
I turned away, unable to sleep until dawn.
The next morning the vacuum roared at half past six. I stared at the clock: 6:30am, a Saturday.
Good morning! Helen shouted over the noise. Got up early, didnt want to waste a minute!
Mrs. Clarke, its still morning, I said, trying to stay calm. We could have started later.
She laughed, Early bird catches the worm! Back in my day I cut her off and slipped back to the bedroom, where Andrew was just stirring.
Youre a nightmare, I muttered, vacuuming at seven on a Sunday.
He winced, Ill speak to her.
But before he could, Helen finished cleaning, trotted into the kitchen, and announced, Ive made crumpets. Eleanor, want some tea?
I nodded mutely. The table was piled with golden crumpets.
Andrew reached for one, They smell lovely.
Helen beamed, My special recipe. I used to make them for you every Sunday when you were a child.
Andrew smiled, I remember.
I sipped tea, feeling the old resentment melt a little.
Later, Helen said she needed to sort the bathroom, The towels are all over, the cosmetics a mess. Ill fix it.
Its fine as it is, I replied coldly.
She laughed patronisingly, Oh dear, youll get the hang of it soon enough. Ill show you.
I excused myself, Excuse me.
Andrew called after me, You havent tried the crumpets yet!
But I retreated to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and for the first time in weeks I thought of leaving.
A knock at the door announced Andrews return. Whats happening, Eleanor? Why are you acting like this?
Its her, acting as if this is her flat, I said. Shes taking my place, trying to be the best housewife for you.
Andrew looked bewildered, Shes not trying to hurt you.
Its obvious, I replied, She wants to push me out.
He sat down beside me, Maybe Im too blind.
I realized he truly saw nothing wrong with his mothers intrusion.
I need some space, I whispered.
He shrugged and left. The days that followed turned into a nightmare. Helen took over the kitchen, dictating every meal, every schedule.
Rest, dear, she would say, You work all day, Ill handle the house. Her tone always hinted that Id forgotten my husband.
When I tried to cook dinner one evening, Helen stormed in and began correcting my technique: Youre chopping the carrots wrong, that pot isnt suitable, the spices are off. I finally gave up and walked out.
Andrew tried to stay neutral but increasingly sided with his mother.
Eleanor, why not compromise? Shes older, she knows more.
How much more knows she have, besides telling me how to live in my own home? I snapped.
He frowned, Shes my mother!
Their arguments became daily. My work suffered; I felt sick with anxiety.
A month later Helen had fully settled in: she hung her curtains in the living room, rearranged our furniture, even moved the bedroom layout under the pretext of feng shui.
Why this? I asked Andrew.
Mum said its better for our health.
Feng shui? I felt the last thread snap. This is our bedroom! The only place I could escape her?
He just wants whats best.
Im done! I shouted, Shes taken everything! I cant cook in my kitchen, I cant relax in my lounge, now shes in the bedroom too!
Andrew tried to calm me, Well figure something out.
I warned him, You cant force me to choose between you and your mother.
He paled, Im not forcing you.
Im just laying it out. I cant live like this.
He finally sighed, Alright, Ill talk to her.
I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Helen was sitting with a tea mug, eyes sharp.
So, you think Im trying to turn your husband against you? she asked coldly.
I just want to live in my own flat, I replied, voice low.
The flat belongs to my son, she snapped. I gave birth to him, raised him, taught him everything. Who are you?
Ive been his wife for eight years, I said, feeling a surge of anger. Where have you been all that time? Only now that you need a roof?
Helens face drained. How dare you! she whispered. I always thought of my sons welfare!
You were never there when he was ill, when he lost his job, I said. I cared for him, he leaned on me. You only called once a month to ask how things were, then talked about your own problems.
She stammered, I didnt know I was?
I pressed, Because you didnt ask.
She finally broke down, tears welling. After my husband died I shut myself away. I thought I wasnt needed anymore. A friend suggested I invest in a business, promised big returns. I was gullible. The money vanished, the flat was sold, and I was left with nothing. I was ashamed to tell Andrew.
I listened, the anger softening into pity.
Why didnt you tell us? I asked. We could have helped.
She sighed, It was embarrassing. Ive always prided myself on being independent. Now Im a foolish old woman, duped.
I felt a pang of sorrow. She wasnt a monster; she was a lonely woman who had hidden her vulnerability behind criticism.
Helen, we should have talked like adults, I said gently. Not barged in and taken over.
She nodded, Im sorry, Eleanor. I was terrified. I thought if I stayed useful, you wouldnt send me away.
I reached across the table, covering her hand. Youre my motherinlaw, not an intruder. But we need boundaries.
Andrew entered, surprised to see us sitting together.
Whats going on? he asked.
Were having a proper conversation, I replied.
He turned to his mother, Mum, why didnt you tell me about the scam?
She looked guilty, I didnt want you to think I was foolish.
Andrew embraced her, Youre my mum, Ill never think that. We just needed to know so we could help.
We agreed to go to the police the next day, then see a solicitor about possibly contesting the sale. We also promised to help Helen find a modest flat of her own, contributing a bit if needed.
That evening we all sat down with a plan. Helen promised shed stay out of our kitchen unless invited, and wed take turns cooking. I even offered to teach her a few of my own recipes.
The next morning Helen rose early but didnt fire up the vacuum. She quietly prepared breakfast and waited for us.
Good morning, she said when we came down. If you dont want it, thats fine.
I smiled, Wed love some, thank you.
Over breakfast we laughed about a funny story from her youth, Andrew recalled a workplace mishap, and I felt for the first time in weeks a genuine ease.
The police took our statement, and the solicitor said there was a chance to challenge the sale if we could prove deception. It would be tough, but worth trying.
Later we looked at rental listings together. This ones a short walk from here and affordable, I pointed out. We can help with the deposit, Mum.
Helens eyes softened, Thank you, Eleanor. I never imagined Id be in this position.
A week later she moved into a cosy onebed flat nearby. I helped her settle, bringing fresh flowers and new curtains.
Feels nice here, she said, looking around. Thank you for giving me a chance.
She promisedNow, every evening we share tea together, grateful that honesty turned a looming crisis into a stronger, more compassionate family.
