«Take these sausage rolls, Mrs. Thompsonthey’re still warm. Baked them fresh this morning,» said the elderly woman in a floral apron, offering a plate covered with a tea towel. «And a jar of strawberry jam, just made yesterday.»
«Thank you, Mrs. Whitaker, you spoil me,» replied Mrs. Thompson with a grateful smile. «At least stay for teayoure always in such a rush. We hardly see you anymore.»
«Tea would be lovely,» Mrs. Whitaker nodded, stepping into the kitchen. «Besides, theres news to share. Have you heard about the row between Emily and her husband? The whole streets talking!»
Mrs. Thompson sighed, reaching for the teacups.
«How could I miss it? They were shouting loud enough to rattle the windows. What on earth was it about?»
«Well, apparently, he went and brought his mother to live with themwithout so much as a word of warning. And their flats barely big enough for two as it is,» Mrs. Whitaker tutted, settling at the table. «Emilys furious, from what I gather.»
Mrs. Thompson set the kettle to boil and sat opposite her neighbour.
«You dont mean Daniel, do you? The one who never thinks things through? He didnt even discuss it with his wife?»
«Too afraid shed say no, I expect. But where else was the poor woman to go? Her cottage in Cornwall burned down. So he just turned up with her, suitcases and all, and dropped it on Emily like a bombshell.» Mrs. Whitaker lowered her voice. «Ran into Sarah from number twelveshe says Emilys already packing. Shes leaving him.»
«Good heavens!» Mrs. Thompson gasped. «Over his mother? Surely not!»
Mrs. Whitaker shrugged. «Well, you know how gossip spreads. But theres usually some truth in it…»
That same evening, on the outskirts of London, a woman in her forties paced the kitchen, clutching her phone. Margaret Whitmores agitation was plain in every movementthe way she tucked a loose strand of silver-streaked hair behind her ear, the impatient tap of her fingers against the counter, the deep frown etched into her brow.
«Claire, I just dont know what to do,» she hissed into the phone. «He didnt even ask me! Just waltzed in with his mother like it was nothing. Can you imagine? I come home from work, and theres Edith sitting in our living room with her luggage, acting like she owns the place!»
On the other end, Claire murmured something, but Margaret cut her off.
«Yes, I know shes got nowhere else to go. Im not heartless! But why couldnt he talk to me first? Were married, for heavens sake. These things arent decided unilaterally!»
Just then, the door swung open, and in walked Richardtall, weary-faced, his hairline starting to recede. Margaret fell silent, fixing him with a sharp look.
«Claire, Ill call you back,» she said tightly and hung up.
An uncomfortable silence settled. Richard opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and poured himself a glass, avoiding her stare the entire time.
«Wheres Edith?» Margaret finally asked.
«Resting in the lounge,» Richard replied. «Shes exhausted from the journey.»
«In the lounge,» Margaret repeated flatly. «On our sofa.»
«Where else was she supposed to go?» His tone grew defensive. «We dont have a spare room.»
«Thats exactly my point, Richard,» Margaret said, forcing calm into her voice. «We dont have the space. Sixty square metres is barely enough for two. And you moved your mother in without so much as a discussion!»
«What was I supposed to do?» Richard slammed his glass down, water sloshing over the rim. «Her house burned to the ground! Did you expect me to leave her on the street?»
«I expected you to talk to me first!» Margarets voice rose, then dropped to a furious whisper when she remembered Edith in the next room. «We couldve figured something outmaybe rented her a room nearby, or asked your sister to take her in for a while. Sophies got a three-bed, theyve got the space»
«Sophie lives in Manchester,» Richard rubbed his temples. «And renting a place costs money. Were barely making ends meet as it is.»
Margaret shook her head.
«This isnt about money, Richard. Its about you making decisions for the both of us. You didnt even call to warn me! I walk through the door, and bamyour mothers unpacking in our living room!»
«I tried calling,» he muttered. «You didnt pick up.»
«I was in a meeting!» Margaret threw her hands up. «Was it too much to wait a few hours? Did you really have to drop this on me like some unwelcome surprise?»
Richard stared into his water glass as if it held all the answers.
«Fine,» Margaret exhaled, fighting to steady herself. «Whats done is done. But at least lets talk about how long this is going to last. Does your mother have insurance? Is she rebuilding?»
«The cottage was condemned,» Richard admitted. «The place was falling apart anywayit was Grandads. And no, theres no insurance. Who insures cottages out there? So… this is long-term, Maggie. Maybe permanent.»
«Permanent?» Margarets legs nearly gave way, and she sank onto a chair. «Richard, have you lost your mind? We cant live like thisthree of us crammed into this tiny flat!»
«Where else is she supposed to go?» he repeated stubbornly. «Shes my mother. Im all shes got.»
«And what about me?» Margaret asked quietly. «Who do I have?»
At that moment, Edith appeared in the doorwaya small, round woman with steel-grey hair pinned into a neat bun. Her floral dress and knitted cardigan seemed out of place in the warm flat.
«Forgive me for interrupting,» she said hesitantly. «But I couldnt help overhearing. The walls are rather thin.»
Richard and Margaret fell silent, watching as Edith shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.
«Margaret, dear,» the older woman continued, «I understand Ive come as quite a shock. If Im in the way, I can leave. Perhaps theres space in a care home»
«Mum, dont be ridiculous,» Richard stood, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. «Youre staying. This is your home now.»
Margaret felt a fresh wave of resentment. *Your home now.* As if she had no say in the matter. But all she said aloud was:
«Edith, its not that youre unwelcome. Its just… this shouldve been a joint decision. Richard and I are partners. We make big choices together. But hes gone ahead and decided everything on his own.»
«I understand, love,» Edith nodded. «Youre young, you need your space. And here I am, an old woman underfoot.»
«Mum!» Richard groaned. «No one said that. Margarets rightI shouldve discussed it first.»
Edith sighed heavily and sat at the table.
«Son, dont defend me. Ive got eyesI can see Ive come at a bad time. Margarets just got home from work, tired, and here I am with my troubles.»
Margaret realized, with a pang, that Edith was speaking the words Richard should have said. Against her will, she felt a flicker of warmth for the woman.
«Edith,» she said, softening, «lets talk this through properly. Its a difficult situation, but not hopeless. When did the fire happen?»
«Three days ago,» Edith replied. «Id gone to help Mrs. next door with her baking, and there was faulty wiring. By the time I got back, the whole place was alight. Managed to save the photos and papers, thanks to the village fire brigade. But everything elsegone. Forty years in that house, and now…»
Her voice wavered. She pulled a lace handkerchief from her cardigan pocket and dabbed her eyes. Margaret felt a stab of guilthow could she have been so selfish? This woman had lost everything, and here she was worrying about her own comfort.
«Im so sorry,» Margaret said sincerely, covering Ediths hand with her own. «Its awful, losing your home like that. Of course you can stay with us as long as you need. Its just… we need to figure out how to make it work.»
Edith gave her a grateful look.
«Thank you, dear. Ill do my best not to be a bother. I can helpcooking, cleaning. Im still spry, thank goodness.»
«Well, thats settled then,» Richard said, visibly relieved. «Now, lets eat. I picked up a roast chicken and salads on the way home.»
Dinner was strained. Edith spoke of life in the countryside, her neighbours, the garden shed lost. Richard listened intently, while Margaret picked at her food, wondering how their lives would change with a third person in the house.
Afterwards, Margaret washed the dishes while Richard set up the sofa bed in the lounge.
«Let me help,» Edith said, drying a plate with a tea towel.
«Thank you,» Margaret handed her another. «Edith, I want to apologise for earlier. I didnt mean to react so harshly.»
«Oh, love, dont you fret,» Edith patted her arm. «If anyone should apologise, its me, turning up unannounced. But Richard said itd be fine, that you wouldnt mind. I believed him, and now…»
«Its not you,» Margaret admitted. «Its how Richard handled it. Fifteen years together, and weve always talked things through. Then he goes and does thiscompletely on his own.»
«Hes always been like this,» Edith sighed. «Thinks he knows best and wont hear otherwise. Takes after his father.»
Margaret couldnt help a small smile.
«That he does. Stubborn as a mule.»
When the dishes were done, they found Richard hauling a camp bed from the storage cupboard.
«Whats that for?» Margaret frowned.
«Mum cant sleep on the sofa,» he explained. «Bad backneeds a firm surface. So the sofas mine, and shell take the camp bed.»
«And where do I sleep?» Margaret felt irritation rise again. «On the floor?»
«Where you always doin our bedroom,» Richard looked baffled. «Where else?»
«So now were sleeping separately?» Margaret crossed her arms. «Lovely. Just perfect.»
«Margaret, dont start this again,» Richard ran a hand over his face. «You see Mum needs the camp bed. We cant both fit on it. So one of us has to sleep apart. Whats the big deal?»
«The big deal,» Margaret said through gritted teeth, «is that youre making these decisions without me. Again.»
«Now, now,» Edith intervened. «No need to argue. Ill take the sofaIve slept on worse.»
«No, Mum,» Richard said firmly. «Doctors ordersyou need proper support. Youre taking the camp bed, end of discussion.»
«See?» Margaret looked at Edith. «*End of discussion.* Thats his answer to everything. His way or nothing.»
Edith opened her mouth, but Margaret had already turned on her heel, striding to the bedroom and closing the door harder than necessary.
Alone, she sat on the edge of the bed, tears pricking her eyes. It wasnt Edith she was angry atthe woman had been nothing but gracious. It was Richard, steamrolling over her feelings, treating her like an afterthought. Fifteen years of marriage, and her opinion still didnt matter.
Her phone buzzeda text from Claire: *How did it go? Talked things out?* Margaret didnt reply. What could she say? That her husband was still acting like a dictator? That he hadnt even consulted her before rearranging their entire living situation?
A soft knock at the door.
«Come in,» Margaret wiped her eyes.
Edith entered with a steaming mug.
«Brought you some tea. Chamomilehelps you sleep.»
«Thank you,» Margaret took it, touched despite herself. «Im sorry about earlier»
«Dont be,» Edith sat beside her. «I understand. Richards always been like thisthinks he knows whats best for everyone. Drove me half-mad when he was a teenager.»
Margaret almost laughed, picturing a younger, even more stubborn Richard arguing with his mother.
«What did you do?» she asked.
«Talked to him,» Edith said simply. «Shouting never workedjust made him dig in his heels. But if you explain why his idea wont work, calmly…»
«I tried,» Margaret sighed. «He doesnt listen.»
«Not in the heat of it,» Edith shook her head. «Right now, hes in defence modeprotecting me. Wait till tomorrow. And in the meantime…» She hesitated. «If youd rather, I can sleep on the floor in here. You and Richard can have the lounge.»
«No, dont be silly,» Margaret said quickly. «Not with your back. I just… need time to adjust to this new reality.»
«Ill keep out of your way as much as I can,» Edith promised. «And Ill make myself usefulcooking, cleaning. Im a decent seamstress too. Could whip up new curtains, maybe some cushions. Brighten the place up.»
Margaret felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Edith wasnt the domineering mother-in-law shed fearedjust a kind woman whod lost her home and turned to her son for help.
«Edith,» she said quietly, «I know youve got nowhere else to go. And I dont mind you staying with us. Truly. I just want us to make these decisions together. For Richard to stop acting like hes the only one who gets a say.»
«Ill have a word with him,» Edith patted her hand before standing. «Now, get some rest. Its been a long day.»
When the door clicked shut, Margaret finished her tea and lay down. Despite everything, a strange calm had settled over her. Maybe it was the chamomile. Or maybe it was knowing that, for the first time, she and Edith were on the same side.
The next morning, Margaret woke to the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee. Edith was already in the kitchen, bustling about like shed lived there for years.
«Morning, love,» she smiled, flipping a pancake. «Breakfasts nearly ready. Richards already left for worksaid hed be late tonight.»
«Ran off, more like,» Margaret muttered, though the bite was gone from her voice.
«Gave us time to get better acquainted, more like,» Edith said shrewdly. «Women sort things out quicker without men underfoot.»
Over breakfast, they talked easilyabout recipes, the potted herbs on the windowsill, the weather forecast. To her surprise, Margaret found herself enjoying Ediths company. They had more in common than shed expecteda shared love of mystery novels, a mutual distaste for loud music.
«You know,» Edith said over tea, «I didnt agree straight away when Richard suggested I move in.»
«No?» Margaret raised an eyebrow. «He made it sound like you came right from Cornwall.»
«Oh, I did,» Edith nodded. «But at first, I refused. Said Id rent a room or stay with his sister Helen. But Richard wouldnt hear of itinsisted I live with him. Wouldnt take no for an answer. Just like when he was a boy.»
«What changed your mind?» Margaret asked.
«He told me you wouldnt mind,» Edith said simply. «Said you were kind and understanding, that youd be happy to have me. So I believed him.»
Margaret didnt know what to say. Edith wasnt lyingthat much was clear. Which meant Richard had deceived them both. The realization stung.
«We need to talk to Richard,» Margaret said at last. «All three of us. Figure out how this is going to work.»
«Agreed,» Edith nodded. «But you know what? I think itll be alright. Well manage. And Richard… well, hell just have to learn that big decisions are made together. No way around it.»
Margaret smiled, looking at her mother-in-law, and realized there might be an upside to all this. Now she had an ally in dealing with Richards stubbornness. And maybe, just maybe, their home would feel warmer with Edith in it.
«Edith,» she said, reaching across the table. «Welcome to the family. Properly.»
Ediths eyes glistened as she clasped Margarets hand.
«Thank you, love. I wont let you down.»
And somehow, Margaret knew she wouldnt.
