Youve got no mother left! bellowed the motherinlaw.
Forget you ever had a mum. After the wedding youll leave me alone, pretend I never existed, and I wont hand you a penny for the ceremony. If I didnt pick your wife, I wont foot the bill for the whole charade.
Martha felt an odd, bubbling joy when her little boy, George, wrapped his arms around her and whispered:
Mum, youre the best in the world. Ill do everything to keep your smile alive.
George had no idea how his sweet words overturned his mothers heart. She swelled with pride at the thought of the cherubic child she called her little angel. Golden curls, skyblue eyes, perfectly sculpted featuresevery line of his face breathed aristocracy. As he grew, Martha used him as a measuring rod for any prospective daughterinlaw: she must boast a respectable lineage, a polished appearance, a slender figure. A university degree and flawless manners were nonnegotiable, not to mention a respectable post in a prestigious firm and a wellconnected circle.
My son already has a flat. Now I need a proper lady to keep it immaculate, ready to welcome guests at three in the morning, because thats the duty of a wife and housekeeper.
Time slipped by, but Marthas demands only hardened.
No woman over twentyfive, otherwise shell birth a frail child. And the child must be unmistakably Georges.
Martha, for heavens sake, relatives would sigh. No girl today meets your list. If you want George to marry on time and have children, ease up, or hell stay single forever.
George graduated with honours from school and university, landed a wellpaid position, yet his love life stalled. Whenever he introduced a potential partner to his mother, she conjured a thousand reasons to push the girl away. At each meeting shed say:
George, fetch us some fruit from the kitchen while we chat.
The first girl Martha had to meet was Hollie. Hollie came from a modest family: mother an accountant, father a boilerroom operator, two younger brothers. Hollie worked as a pharmacy assistant, which made Martha wary.
So she has constant access to medicines. What if she poisons my son? Or me? Martha thought. And her family are labourers; we cant have that.
Sweetheart, you understand you cant marry George, dont you? Martha snapped when they were alone. Youre too different. He grew up in a world youve never known. Forget him and find someone simpler.
Hollie rose without a word and left, not even saying goodbye to George. When he asked why, she replied coldly:
Ask your mother who raised you in those special conditions. She says youre too good for me, so Ill look for someone more ordinary.
Mum, why did you hurt Hollie? I like her, truly like her. What did you say?
Son, youve forgotten something, Martha said slowly. Im your mother; I know best who can make you happy. Not some Hollie, thats for sure. Where did you even find that? As if no respectable family existed.
George realised arguments with his mother were futile and walked away. He sometimes mentioned a new girlfriend, but never brought her to his towering mother. Occasionally Martha offered help in finding a wife, but George politely declined:
Thats for me and my future wife. Ill marry, not you. Ill choose for myself.
I already know who youll pick, Martha muttered. Some cleaning lady with nothing in her head but rags and a mop.
At least shell polish the floors to a shine, George chuckled darkly.
Dont you dare speak to your mother like that! she erupted.
Silently, George retreated to his room. Eventually he moved out of the house he shared with his mother, into the flat she owned and had been renting out.
His father, Edward, had long been estranged after divorcing Martha when George was six. Recently Edward agreed to meet.
You know why I left Tara? Because she never let me live. She controlled everythingwhere I went, what I said, what I thought. When I tried to spend time with you, shed yell that I could never teach you anything because I lacked a degree. Why did she need to raise a child for me? I was just a farmhand, done my part and left. Then I thought, why waste my life on a madwoman who never cared for me? I spat her out, divorced. She refused alimony and stripped me of parental rights.
And youre happy now? George frowned.
Why are you asking? Edward snapped. I bought you a flat, handed you the keys. Did she tell you?
What? George stared.
Edward repeated:
I saved ten years to give you a place of your own. Dont ever go back to her; youll have no life. She doesnt see anyone as a person.
Why didnt you talk to me? George asked tentatively.
I didnt want you to have problems. Tara threatened to whisk you away to another town, and Id never see you again. So I watched from afar.
His fathers words shifted Georges view of his mother. She was, in his mind, the best thing anyone could have, and he confessed he wanted a partner who reminded him of her. Martha smiled condescendingly: shed never find such a woman. One in a million, perhaps a billion.
After Hollie, there were meetings with other girls, but none pleased Martha. Finally George set a condition:
Either you stop meddling in my life, or Ill cut off contact with you.
You ungrateful wretch, Martha snarled. Who do you think youre talking to? I bought you a home, gave you education. How dare you?
Mum, enough, George pleaded. I know who really bought that flat. Ive spoken to my father; he told me everything.
And you believe him? Martha exploded. Not my mother, but some loser?
If anything, that loser is my father. Or not?
Georges words painted her face with pale spots. She stared at him with scorn, then shut herself in her room. The next morning she didnt appear for breakfast. George knocked, heard a furious shout:
Leave me alone and go back to your worthless dad!
Mum, why? George opened the door, stepping into her bedroom. She lay on the bed, hair in disarray, dress rumpled, staring at the ceiling. It was a stark contrast to her usual immaculate, perfumeladen self.
You know, son, Ive figured something out, she said slowly. Marry whoever you like, even a man from Papua with a penguinrhino mix. Just forget you ever had a mother. After the wedding you wont bother me, and I wont give you any wedding money. If I didnt choose your wife, I wont pay for this farce.
I get it, mum, George bowed mockingly and closed the door behind him. That day he moved into HIS OWN flat.
Six months later he called his mother to a restaurant to announce his impending marriage.
And who is she? Tara asked indifferently.
Whatever she is, youll hate her, George replied coolly. Just so you know, my future wife is called Poppy. Shes twentysix, from a long line of doctors. Very respectable.
Good heavens, and where did you get such confidence in her worthiness? Martha rolled her eyes. Show me a photo.
George dug out his phone and displayed a picture. The woman in the image had an exotic look, dark hair and almond eyes.
And this is the future mother of my grandchildren? What a fright!
Thats not Poppy, thats a KoreanBritish mix, George explained patiently.
Even better, Martha snorted. Like a bulldog crossed with a rhino.
Youll grow to like her once you meet after the wedding, George smiled.
Marthas breath caught at his words.
After the wedding?! Youre really going through with it? To spite me?
Why would I? For my own joy, George grinned, calling over a waitress to place an order.
Martha sat in stunned silence, trying to picture grandchildren with such a motherinlaw. The vision was grotesque.
At the wedding, George approached his mother, sternly instructing:
No dramas. If Poppy leaves me because of you, Ill never forgive you. Know that.
Martha was forced to sit as quiet as a mouse, lower than the grass. She watched the radiant bride, glowing joyfully, as her son exchanged vows and danced with guests, their eyes bright with love. The next day the newlyweds arrived with a basket of treats for Martha, but she barred them at the door.
Fine, son. Ive obeyed all your wishes. Now listen to me. Do not bring that halfblood back to my house again; I refuse to see her. Do you understand? You may have a thousand wives, but a mother is only one.
The couple left, and Martha, in a fit of spite, tossed the basket into the trash.
Ill take nothing from this mixedblood, she hissed.
After that, Martha fell ill often, and Poppy tended to her. Sometimes George hired a nightcaregiver so his mother wouldnt be left alone. Martha could not accept the daughterinlaw she despised, especially after George compared her unfavourably to his mother.
You said youd find someone like me. Where is the resemblance? Martha growled, choking on the fact that she now relied on Poppys care, a fact that infuriated her beyond measure.
When the phone rang, she answered in a melodious tone:
Hello, Poppy dear. How are you? My blood pressures spiking a bit. Could you pop over, please? Alright, see you soon
The dream lingered, the house a shifting maze of expectations, and the voices echoing like distant bells in a fogfilled night.
