“You have no right to behave like this in my home!” Emilys voice trembled with barely contained fury. She stood in the hallway, clutching her handbag to her chest like a shield.
“This is my flat, Margaret! Mine!”
Something like contempt flickered in her mother-in-laws eyes.
“And what am I supposed to do if you cant be bothered to clean properly?” Margaret hissed through gritted teeth. “Dust on the shelves, dirty dishes in the sink. Is this how decent people live?”
Emily gripped the strap of her bag so hard her knuckles turned white. Her chest burned with frustration and helplessness.
“I work, Margaret! I dont always have the time”
“You ought to make time for what matters,” Margaret cut in, lifting her chin as she headed for the door. “Im only trying to help, and this is the thanks I get?”
The door clicked shut, leaving Emily alone in the silence of the flat. The quiet pressed against her ears, but inside, a storm still raged. She kicked off her heels and stalked into the living room, then the kitchen, finally peering into the bedroom. Everywhere bore traces of Margarets “help.”
And the bedroom Her mother-in-law must have finished just before she arrived. The hand cream from the nightstand was gone. The little ornament shed brought back from holiday was missing from the dresser.
Emily paced like a trapped animal, hands shaking with anger. Shed come home exhausted, dreaming of a shower and tea in her favourite mug Now, nothing was where it should be.
The front door clicked. James was back from work. One look at his wife, standing lost in the middle of the kitchen, and he knew something was wrong.
“Em, whats happened?” He moved to hug her, but she twisted away.
“Your mother was here again!” Emilys voice cracked. “She was tidying our bedroom, James! Our bedroom! Dont you see how wrong that is?”
James sighed heavily, running a hand through his haira gesture Emily knew all too well. He did that when he didnt know what to say.
“Em, she just wants to help”
“Help?” Emilys eyes darkened. “I cant find my phone charger! My favourite mugs goneIve been looking for half an hour! And shes hidden all the towels!”
James reached for her hands, but she stepped back toward the window.
“She keeps throwing my things away, James!” Emily swiped at angry tears. “Things that matter to me! And she calls them rubbish!”
“Love, shes just showing she cares,” James said gently. “Shes used to things being just so”
“Im sick of her care!” Emily snapped. “Im tired of someone else ruling my home! Your mother moves things, decides what I needIve had enough!”
She sank onto a chair, covering her face. Her shoulders trembled. James moved closer, carefully wrapping his arms around her.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Ill talk to Mum, alright? Ask her to stop.”
Emily gave a bitter laugh.
“Oh, shell listen to you. Im sure.”
James managed to calm her down. Made her tea, found her mugstuffed at the back of the cupboard.
But Margaret didnt stop.
Three days later, Emily came home and knew immediatelyMargaret had been there again. The air still held the heavy, sweet scent of her perfume. The kitchen jars had been rearranged by size. The fridge was stocked with irritating precision.
Emily slumped onto the sofa. Anger bubbled inside her, but she had no energy left to fight.
A week later, it happened again. This time, Margaret had “organised” the wardrobe. All the clothes had been shifted. Emilys favourite dress, hung at the front for easy reach, was crumpled and shoved onto the top shelf.
Standing before the open wardrobe, Emily swallowed back tears. This wasnt her safe haven anymore. Every day, she wonderedhad Margaret visited? What had been moved, hidden, thrown out this time?
Then, on Friday evening, the phone rang.
“Yeah, Mum Of course Saturday? Alright, well be there Yeah, Ill tell her.”
James turned to Emily with a guilty look.
“Mums invited us for dinner tomorrow. Says shes got news.”
Emily froze.
“Do we have to go?”
“Em, dont be like that. Shes gone to trouble. Cooked your favourites.”
Saturday evening, they climbed the stairs to Margarets flat. Fifth floor, no lift in the old building. Emily dragged her feet, each step heavier than the last. Shed rather be anywherework, the Tube, even the dentistthan here.
“Itll be fine,” James squeezed her hand. “Mum made that pie you liked last time.”
Emily forced a smile.
Over dinner, Margaret chatted only to Jamesneighbour gossip, a new telly show, market prices. Emily pushed food around her plate in silence.
“Emily, not hungry?” Margaret finally addressed her.
“Just thinking,” Emily muttered.
“Well,” Margaret set down her fork, folding her hands. “My news. Im off to a spa resort with Gloria. Ten days, bit of a rest.”
“Brilliant, Mum!” James beamed. “You deserve it.”
“Yes, well,” Margaret nodded, pulling a keyring from her apron. “Heres the spare set. Just in case. And could you water my plants?”
Emily stared at the keystwo on a plain metal ring. Slowly, a plan formed. She smiled.
The next week, Emily was radiant. Colleagues noticedhumming at her desk, grinning for no reason.
“Youre cheery,” James remarked over dinner. “Bonus come through?”
Emily just smirked. “Just happy.”
The day before Margaret returned, Emily left work early. “Doctors appointment.”
Now, she stood outside Margarets flat, keys in hand. Her heart pounded like before an exam. *My turn*, she thought, turning the key.
On Sunday, they met Margaret at the station. She looked refreshed, gushing about treatments, new friends, the food.
“Porridge with honey and nutscan you imagine? Ive written it down!”
Emily sat quietly in the backseat, stomach twisting.
Margaret opened her front door and froze. One step inside. Then another. Her eyes darted around the hallway.
“What what is this?” Her voice wavered.
She rushed into the living room. Spotless. But nothing was where it should be.
“My ornaments!” Margaret lunged for the display cabinet. “Where are they?”
She tore through the flat, checking drawers, cupboards. Her face flushed crimson. Then she whirled on Emily, eyes blazing.
“You!” she spat. “You did this!”
Emily tilted her chin up, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Yes, me.” Calm. Then, mock surprise: “Dont you like it? I wanted to help. Save you the trouble.”
James gaped, glancing between them. But he stayed silent.
“Oh, and” Emily feigned innocence. “I binned those old ornaments. And the teacups. You never used themjust clutter, right? Like you said about my things.”
“How dare you!” Margaret shrieked. “My home! My things!”
“You did the same to mine,” Emily said coolly. “Not nice, is it?”
“James!” Margaret wheeled on her son. “Are you hearing this?”
James opened his mouth, but Emily cut in:
“Oopslook at the time! Weve got to go.” She hooked her arm through his. “But Ill be back, Margaret. Cant wait to *thank* you properly next time!”
She dragged a shell-shocked James outside. They walked in silence until, finally, he exhaled:
“Bloody hell, Em…”
Emily grinned. Warm satisfaction spread through her chest. Perfect.
Two months passed. Margaret never set foot in their flat again.
*I won*, Emily thought smugly.
