“Take these cheese scones, they’re still warmjust baked them this morning,” said the elderly woman in a floral apron, handing her neighbour a plate covered with a tea towel. “And a jar of fresh strawberry jam, only made it yesterday.”
“Thank you, Margaretyou do spoil me,” replied Eleanor with a grateful smile, accepting the treats. “At least stay for a cuppa while youre here. You always rush offwe hardly see each other these days.”
“Wouldnt say no to a brew,” Margaret nodded, stepping into the kitchen. “Besides, theres news. Have you heard about what happened with Susans son and his wife?”
Eleanor sighed, reaching for the teacups. “How couldnt I? The whole block knows. They were shouting loud enough to rattle the windows. What was it over, then?”
“Apparently, he went and fetched his mum down from Yorkshire without so much as a word. And theyve only got a one-bed flatyou know how it is,” Margaret shook her head, settling at the table. “Emmahis missuswent absolutely spare.”
Eleanor put the kettle on and sat opposite. “Oh, dont tell mewas it that daft lad, Daniel? Didnt even warn his wife?”
“Reckon he was scared shed say no. But the poor womans got nowhere elseher cottage burned down. So he just turns up with her in tow, no discussion,” Margaret lowered her voice. “Ran into Lisa from flat 3B yesterdayshe said Emmas already packing her bags. Moving out.”
“Youre joking!” Eleanor gasped. “Over her mother-in-law? Thats no reason to split a family!”
Margaret shrugged. “Dunno if its true or just gossip, but theres no smoke without fire…”
That same evening, on the other side of town, a woman in her forties paced the kitchen, phone clutched in her hand. Lynn was agitatedit showed in every sharp tuck of her greying hair, every tap of her fingers on the counter, every furrow of her brow.
“Sarah, I just dont know what to do,” she said into the phone. “He didnt even ask! Just sprung it on me. Can you imagine? I come home from work, and theres Barbara sitting in our living room with her suitcases, like its nothing!”
Her friend murmured something on the other end, but Lynn cut in. “No, I get that shes got nowhere elseI do! But why couldnt he talk to me first? Were married, for heavens sake. These things arent decided unilaterally!”
Just then, the door opened, and in walked Marktall, tired-looking, with a receding hairline. Lynn fell silent, shooting him a tense glare.
“Sarah, Ill ring you back,” she said briskly, hanging up.
An awkward silence settled. Mark opened the fridge, poured himself water, avoiding her eyes the whole time.
“Wheres Barbara?” Lynn finally asked.
“Resting in the lounge,” he said. “Long journey.”
“The lounge,” Lynn echoed. “On our sofa.”
“Where else is she meant to lie down?” His voice turned defensive. “We havent got a spare room.”
“Exactly, Mark,” she said, forcing calm. “No spare room. This place is tiny. Sixty square metres for three of usits already cramped. And you moved your mother in without so much as a discussion!”
“What was I supposed to do?” He slammed the glass down, water sloshing. “Her house burned down! Did you expect me to leave her on the street?”
“I expected you to talk to me first!” Her voice rose, then dropped as she remembered Barbara nearby. “We couldve figured something out. Rented her a studio. Maybe stayed with your sisterOlivias got that three-bed in Manchester.”
“Livs two hours away, you know that,” Mark rubbed his temples. “And rentings money we dont have. Were barely making ends meet as it is.”
Lynn shook her head. “Its not about the money, Mark. Its about you deciding for both of us. You didnt even call to warn me! I walk in, and bamyour mums here with her luggage.”
“I tried calling,” he muttered. “You didnt pick up.”
“I was in a meeting!” She threw her hands up. “Couldnt you wait two hours? Had to ambush me instead?”
Mark stared into his glass like the answers were floating in it.
“Fine,” Lynn took a deep breath. “Whats done is done. But lets at least discuss how long thisll be. Does your mum have insurance? Is she rebuilding?”
“Place was condemned anyway,” he said. “Barely standingbuilt in Grandmas time. No insurance eitherwho bothers in the countryside? So… its long-term, Lynn. Maybe permanent.”
“Permanent?” Her legs wobbled; she sank onto a chair. “Mark, have you lost it? We cant fit three people here!”
“Where else is she meant to go?” he repeated stubbornly. “Shes my mum. Im all shes got.”
“And me?” Lynn asked quietly. “What am I? Im your wife. Youre all Ive got too.”
Just then, Barbara appeareda plump, silver-haired woman in a floral dress and cardigan despite the warm weather.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said hesitantly. “But these walls are thin. I heard everything.”
Silence. Mark and Lynn stared as she shifted awkwardly.
“Lynn, love,” Barbara continued. “I know Ive landed like a tonne of bricks. If Im in the way, I can go. Maybe find a retirement flat”
“Mum, stop,” Mark stood, wrapping an arm around her. “Youre not going anywhere. This is your home now.”
Lynn felt a surge of resentment. “Your home now”hed said it to his mother without consulting her, the person who actually lived there. But aloud, she only said:
“Barbara, its not that youre in the way. Its… this shouldve been a joint decision. Mark and I are a team. Instead, he just… decided.”
“I understand, love,” Barbara nodded. “Young couples need their space. Dont need some old biddy underfoot.”
“Mum!” Mark groaned. “No one said that. Lynns rightI shouldve asked her first.”
Barbara sighed, sinking onto a chair. “Son, dont fib for me. I can see Ive picked the worst time. Lynns knackered from work, and here I am with my dramas.”
Lynn realised, with a pang, that Barbara was saying what Mark shouldve. It thawed her a little.
“How long ago did the fire happen?” she asked gently.
“Three days back,” Barbara said. “Id popped next door to help bake for the church fêtefaulty wiring. By the time I got back, it was ablaze. Thank goodness the neighbours helped salvage photos and papers. But the rest…” Her voice wavered. “Forty years in that house. Gone.”
Lynn felt a stab of guilt. The woman had lost everything, and shed been worrying about space?
“Im so sorry,” she said sincerely, covering Barbaras hand with hers. “Of course youll stay as long as needed. Well just… work things out together.”
Barbara squeezed back. “Thank you, love. Ill keep out of your wayhelp with cooking, cleaning. Im still spry, thank the Lord.”
“Right,” Mark relaxed visibly. “Now, whos hungry? I grabbed a roast chicken and salads on the way.”
Dinner was stilted. Barbara chatted about village life, her garden, the neighboursall gone now. Mark listened intently while Lynn pushed food around her plate, wondering how their lives would change.
Afterward, Lynn washed up as Mark converted the sofa for his mum.
“Let me help,” Barbara said, drying a plate.
“Barbara,” Lynn blurted. “Im sorry about earlier. That wasnt fair.”
“Dont be daft,” the older woman waved her off. “Mark told me youd be fine with it. I believed him. Shouldve known betterhes always been stubborn. Just like his dad.”
Lynn snorted. “Tell me about it.”
They finished the dishes to find Mark hauling a camp bed from the cupboard.
“Whats that for?” Lynn frowned.
“Mum cant sleep on the sofabad back. Needs something firm. So Ill take the sofa, she gets the camp bed.”
“And where do I sleep? The ceiling?”
“In our bed, obviously,” Mark looked baffled.
“So now were sleeping separately? Brilliant.”
“Lynn, not this again,” he sighed. “Mum needs the camp bed. We cant both fit on it. Whats the big deal?”
“The big deal,” she said through gritted teeth, “is you making decisions without me. Again.”
“Kids, dont fight,” Barbara cut in. “Ill manage on the sofa”
“No, Mum,” Mark said firmly. “Doctors orders. End of discussion.”
“See?” Lynn shot Barbara a look. “‘End of discussion.’ Thats his favourite phrase.”
She stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door.
In the lounge, Mark and his mother exchanged glances.
“Maybe I should stay with Aunt Joan?” Barbara whispered.
“Over my dead body,” Mark scowled. “Youre staying here. Lynn will come round.”
In bed, Lynn wiped angry tears. It wasnt about Barbarawhod turned out far kinder than expected. It was Mark, bulldozing over her after fifteen years of marriage.
Her phone buzzeda text from Sarah: *You okay? Truce yet?*
She ignored it. What could she say? That her husband was still acting like a dictator?
A soft knock. Barbara entered with tea.
“Peppermint,” she said. “Calms the nerves.”
“Thanks,” Lynn took it, abashed. “Sorry for earlier”
“Dont be,” Barbara sat beside her. “Marks always thought he knows best. Drove me mad when he was a teen.”
Lynn smirked, imagining a teenage Mark sulking.
“Whatd you do?”
“Talked,” Barbara shrugged. “Shoutings pointlesshe just digs in. But if you explain why his plan wont work…”
“I tried,” Lynn sighed.
“Not tonight, love. Hes all riled up defending me. Wait till tomorrow. For now… I could sleep on the floor in here if youd rather”
“Absolutely not,” Lynn said. “Its fine. Just… need time to adjust.”
“Ill keep to myself,” Barbara promised. “And help outI make a cracking shepherds pie. And Ive got my sewing machinecould whip up new curtains, cushion covers…”
Lynn felt the tension ease. Barbara wasnt some meddling matriarchjust a woman whod lost everything.
“Barbara,” she said suddenly. “Welcome to the family. Properly.”
The older womans eyes glistened. “Thank you, love. You wont regret it.”
Oddly enough, Lynn believed her.
