“If I’m the villain in your mother’s story, then let her live however she pleases. I wont lift a finger for her again!”
Emily had always tried to keep her composure when it came to Margaret Whitmore. Her mother-in-law visited their London flat two or three times a week, and each visit was a test of endurance. The September days grew shorter, and Emilys patience wore thinner.
Margaret adored hosting dinner parties. Shed arrive with bags of groceries, take over the kitchen, and cook enough to feed an army, always inviting neighbours, acquaintances, and sometimes complete strangers.
“Now this is what I call hospitality!” Margaret would declare loudly, arranging plates. “Unlike some people who cant even brew a proper cup of tea.”
Emily clenched her jaw and kept slicing bread. Margaret never named names, but everyone knew exactly who she meant.
At the table, Margaret transformed into a grand storyteller. Her eyes lit up, her voice took on a theatrical tone, and the performance began.
“My nephews wifenow theres a gem!” Margaret would exclaim, hands fluttering dramatically. “Emmas so talented! You should see her embroiderylike actual paintings! And she knits, sews, keeps their garden immaculate. Pickles cucumbers, bottles preservestheir home is a proper haven!”
The guests would nod approvingly, while Emilys cheeks burned. Her husband, James, sat beside her, glued to his phone as if none of it concerned him.
“And Lucy, my cousins wife, shes wonderful too,” Margaret continued. “So obedient, so agreeable. Never talks back. Her mother-in-law feels like shes behind a fortress wall! Helps with everything, consults her on every decision. Now thats proper upbringing!”
One of the neighbours turned to Emily.
“And what do you do?”
Emily opened her mouth, but Margaret cut in.
“Oh, why bother asking?” Her voice dripped with thinly veiled mockery. “Emilys a modern woman. She works in an office, glued to her computer. No time for homemaking or crafts. Shes used to having everything done for her.”
“Im a manager at a retail company,” Emily tried to explain.
“Oh yes, a manager,” Margaret nodded knowingly. “And who does everything at home? My poor James has to cook and clean after work. Spoiled, our daughter-in-law is.”
Emily clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. James kept scrolling, oblivious.
After one such dinner, when the guests had left and the dishes were done, Margaret approached Emily with a saccharine smile.
“Emily, darling, could you take me to the clinic tomorrow? I need to collect some test results, and Im nervous going alone.”
“Of course, Margaret,” Emily replied, though she had an important client meeting the next day.
“Oh, thank you, dear! James is so busy at work, I hate to bother him. But youve got flexible hours, dont you? You can pop out whenever.”
Emily bit back the retort that her hours werent that flexible. Better not start a scene.
The following week, it happened again. Margaret appeared with another request.
“Emily, love, could you run to the chemist? The doctors prescribed new medication, and I cant make sense of these names. I might buy the wrong thing.”
“Fine,” Emily nodded.
“And while youre out, could you stop by the shop? I need some groceries and cleaning supplies. My backs been dreadfulcant carry heavy things.”
Emily spent half the day driving to three different chemists, then queued at the supermarket. She returned exhausted and irritated.
“Howd it go?” James asked, eyes fixed on the telly.
“Fine,” she said flatly.
A few days later, Margaret arrived againthis time with a crowd of relatives.
“Meet my daughter-in-law, Emily,” Margaret introduced. “And this is my sister-in-law, Patricia, and her daughter, Sophie.”
Sophie was Emilys age but carried herself like she was older and wiser.
“I hear you work in an office?” Sophie asked, scanning the flat with a critical eye.
“Yes, in retail.”
“Oh, how fascinating!” Sophie gushed with false enthusiasm. “I stay home with the kidsthree of them, can you imagine? All so bright and well-behaved. The eldest already takes violin lessons.”
Margaret beamed.
“Now thats a proper woman! Raising children, keeping house, supporting her husband. Not gallivanting about in offices.”
Emilys face burned with anger, but she held her tongue.
Patricia chimed in. “Sophies so capable! Cooks, sews, knits. I always tell heryoure a treasure for any man.”
“And I grow my own vegetables,” Sophie added modestly. “Make preserves. My husband says our homes like paradise.”
Margaret turned to Emily.
“Hear that, love? Maybe you could learn a thing or two from Sophie. Then James might actually want to stay home instead of disappearing every evening.”
Emily froze. Only she knew James had been staying out latehow had Margaret found out?
“Is James often away?” Patricia asked curiously.
“Oh, he works a lot,” Emily said vaguely.
“Of course he does!” Margaret scoffed. “Any man would flee a home like this. Empty fridge, wife always at work. No wonder hes looking for comfort elsewhere.”
Sophie shook her head sympathetically.
“Its a shame. A man needs to feel cherished at home. Cosy dinners, little treats. My husband wont even go on business tripssays theres no place like home.”
The conversation dragged on. Emily sat silently, irritation boiling under her skin.
When they finally left, Emily snapped.
“James, did you hear what your mother said?”
“Whats the big deal?” He shrugged. “Just womens chatter.”
“Chatter? She humiliated me in front of everyone!”
“Dont be dramatic. Mum just gave examples of how others live.”
“She called me useless and spoiled!”
“She hinted, thats all. Maybe you should listen to your elders sometimes.”
Emily stared at him, stunned.
“So you agree Im a bad wife?”
“I didnt say that. But Mums rightyou could put more effort into the home.”
“Who cooks, cleans, does the laundry? The house fairy?”
“We take turns”
“Turns? Seriously? When did you last cook? Heating up frozen pizza doesnt count!”
James winced.
“No need to shout. Im talking calmly.”
“Because Im tired! Tired of your mother criticising me while you say nothing!”
“Mum doesnt criticise. She gives advice.”
Emily stormed out. The conversation was pointless.
The next day, Margaret called againthis time for a special cream sold across town.
“Emily, darling, please! Its only at one chemist, and I cant get there alone. You driveits no trouble.”
Emily checked the clock. She had a crucial meeting in three hours.
“Margaret, maybe another day? Ive got”
“Oh, what could possibly be so important?” Margaret cut in. “So youll be a bit late! I need this creammy skins unbearable!”
Emily gave in. Of course, she hit traffic, arrived forty minutes late, and got a dressing-down from her boss.
That evening, she told James.
“Big deal, one late day,” he dismissed. “Mum needed help. You couldnt say no?”
“What if I get fired over this?”
“You wont. And if you do, find another job.”
Emily went numb at his indifference.
A week later, Margaret hosted another dinner, comparing Emily to other daughters-in-law.
“My nephews wife, Emmaher mother-in-laws so lucky! They go on holiday together, exchange gifts. Emma always asks her advice, listens to everything. A proper daughter!”
Then she looked pointedly at Emily.
“Some think marriage means ignoring their in-laws. Living selfishly, never consulting anyone.”
“Margaret, if youve got a problem with me, say it outright,” Emily snapped.
Margaret feigned shock.
“Darling, Im not talking about anyone specific! Just musing aloud about respect for elders.”
After dinner, as Emily washed up, Margaret sidled up.
“Emily, are you actually good for anything?” The question was innocent, as if asking about the weather.
Emily whirled arounda plate slipped, smashing on the floor.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing serious,” Margaret shrugged. “Just wondering if youve any useful skills beyond office work.”
Emilys face flushed with rage. Hands trembling, she picked up the shards.
“If Im the villain in your mothers story, then let her live however she pleases. I wont lift a finger for her again!”
Silence fell. Margaret blinked, stunned. James finally looked up from his phone.
“Emily, what are you saying? Mum didnt mean”
“Didnt mean it?” Emily turned on him. “Your mother just asked if I
