«Don’t be ridiculous! You’re the one who’ll be out on your ear, not my mum!» bellowed her husband, conveniently forgetting whose name was on the deeds.
Emily stood by the bay window, the sticky July heat pressing against the glass panes. Outside in the garden, children darted between the oak trees, seeking shelter from the midday sun.
«Em, where’s my shirt?» came a shout from the bedroom. «The blue checked one!»
«It’s hanging in the wardrobe,» she replied without turning. «Top rail.»
Daniel appeared in the doorway of the sitting room, fastening the shirt he’d dug out. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the rough hands of a tradesman. Once, those hands had made her feel safe.
«Listen,» he began, adjusting his cuffs. «Mum’s coming over later. Give the place a proper tidylast time she spent half the evening moaning about dog hairs.»
Emily slowly turned to face him. That familiar knot of irritation twisted in her chest.
«Your mum always finds fault,» she said quietly. «Last time it was the roast being too dry, before that the shepherds pie too salty.»
«Then try harder,» Daniel shrugged, as if discussing the weather. «Shes only trying to help, and you take it personally.»
Emily clenched her fists. This house was hers alone. She’d bought this two-bed terrace before they’d even met, decorated it to her taste, poured her savings into the renovations. And now Margaret kept waltzing in, rearranging things, lecturing her on where the vase should sit and how often to dust the skirting boards.
«Dan, this is my house,» Emily reminded him. «Might be worth remembering that.»
Her husband froze, one hand already on the doorknob.
«Whats that supposed to mean?» Daniels voice turned sharp. «That I dont belong here?»
«Im saying your mum acts like she owns the place,» Emily stepped closer. «And you encourage her.»
«Mum cares about us!» Daniel turned to face her fully. «About family! Christ, she even gave up her own place for my brother!»
Emily gave a bitter laugh. That worn-out tale of «helping the younger generation» had grown tiresome.
«Your mum gave Tom that one-bed flat two years ago,» she said slowly. «So what? Now she gets to boss me about in my own home?»
«Our home!» Daniel snapped. «Were married!»
«On your thirty grand a year, wed be renting a box room in bloody Slough,» the words spilled out before she could stop them.
His face darkened. He stepped closer, looming over her.
«So now youre throwing money in my face?» His voice shook. «Because I dont earn enough?»
«Im not throwing anything,» Emily lifted her chin. «Just stating facts. Your mums renting now because she gave Tom her flat. Yet she lectures us on how to live.»
«Tom needed the help!» Daniel turned to the window. «Young family, planning kids!»
«Kids,» Emily repeated flatly. «Always about kids.»
He whipped back around. That old fire lit in his eyes.
«And why not? Weve been married five years and you keep putting it off. A proper wife wants children!»
«On what, Dan?» Emily spread her hands. «Your wages? Do you know how much nappies cost? School uniforms? Dentist bills?»
«Wed manage,» he waved it off. «Everyone else does!»
«Everyone else,» Emily shook her head. «And Id be stuck on maternity pay while you break your back at the depot for peanuts?»
Outside, a blackbird sang from the apple tree. Daniel went quiet, jaw working.
«Look,» he said finally. «Enough arguing. Mums in a spot.»
«What now?» Emily stepped away from the window.
«She cant afford the rent anymore,» Daniel rubbed his neck. «Her pension doesnt cover it, and the landlords doubled it.»
Emily nodded. Margaret had been moaning for months about prices. It was obvious shed have to move in with Tominto the very flat shed handed him.
«Right,» Emily said. «So Toms lot will have to squeeze in.»
Daniel straightened up. His eyes hardened.
«Mums staying here,» he declared. «Just till she finds somewhere.»
Emily went still. His words echoed oddly in her ears.
«Here?» she repeated. «In this house?»
«Yeah, here!» Daniel raised his voice. «Whats the issue? Theres room.»
«Dan, wheres she sleeping? The sofa?»
«Whats wrong with that?» he crossed his arms. «Mums sacrificed everything for us, and youre being tight!»
Emily backed against the wall. Anger fizzed inside her.
«Why not with Tom?» she asked quietly. «Hes got the flat she gave him.»
«Theyve got a kid!» Daniel roared. «They need the space! Arent we family too?»
«We are, but this house is mine,» Emily reminded him.
His face turned thunderous. He stepped closer.
«Selfish cow! Always thinking of yourself! A decent wife would stand by her husband when times are hard!»
Emily pressed against the wall. He was too close, his presence suffocating.
«You wont give me kids, least you could do is help family!» he went on. «Mums given her whole life for us!»
«Dan, listen» Emily began, but he cut in.
«Maybe you dont want a family at all? Say it straight!»
Emily lowered her head. Daniel knew how to twist the knife, always hitting the weak spots. Guilt washed over her.
«Fine,» she said quietly. «She can stay a while.»
A week later, Margaret moved into the sitting room. She brought three suitcases and immediately started rearranging. The telly went by the window, the sofa against the wall, Emilys pot plants banished to the shed.
«Needs more light in here,» the mother-in-law explained as she shoved furniture about. «And those plants just attract flies.»
Emily watched silently as her living space became a strangers bedroom. Daniel helped his mum, carrying boxes.
«You alright here, Mum?» he asked gently.
«Ill cope,» sighed Margaret. «Though its a bit poky.»
Three months passed. Emily became a ghost in her own home. She crept about, terrified of disturbing her mother-in-law. Apologised for every clatter, every footstep.
Margaret took over completely. She binned Emilys washing powder, replaced it with her own. Banned her favourite biscuits.
«These are dear,» shed say in Tesco. «Get the own-brand ones.»
Mornings were spent cleaning under Margarets watchful eye. One day, taking out the bins, something caught Emilys eye. She bent down and froze.
A childhood photo album. The one with school plays and birthday parties. Her only record of growing up.
Hands shaking, Emily pulled it free, stained with tea leaves.
«Margaret,» she called, stepping back inside. «Why was this in the bin?»
Her mother-in-law didnt look up from Loose Women.
«Oh that? Chucked it. Just clutter.»
«These are my childhood photos!» Emilys voice cracked.
«Ancient history,» Margaret waved her off. «No point keeping junk.»
Something inside Emily snapped. Three months of being sidelined, silenced, shamedall erupted.
«Out!» she screamed. «Get out of my house now!»
The older woman leapt up, eyes blazing.
«How dare you speak to me like that!» she shrieked. «You should know your place!»
A dishevelled Daniel rushed in from the bedroom. Hearing the row, he instantly took his mums side.
«Mums not going anywhere!» he roared at his wife. «Youre the one wholl be out on the street!»
But inside, something in Emily had broken for good. Her shout died in her throat. She looked at her husband and his mother with icy calm. Rage gave way to cold certainty.
«The deeds are in my name,» Emily said quietly but firmly. «I decide who lives here.»
«You bloody what?» Daniel stepped closer, face purple. «Im your husband!»
«Ex-husband,» Emily corrected, turning to the cupboard.
She hauled out a sports bag and started stuffing it with her mother-in-laws thingsblouses, cardigans, nightieswithout care.
«Youve lost the plot!» Daniel shouted. «Stop this now!»
Emily didnt answer. She yanked slippers from under the sofa, tossed them in. The older woman scurried, trying to grab her things back.
«Love, calm down!» Her voice shook with outrage. «Were family!»
«Family?» Emily spun round. «Family doesnt bin childhood photos!»
Margaret shrank back. Daniel made a grab for the bag, but Emily dodged.
«Mums given everything for her kids!» he bellowed. «And youre kicking her out like rubbish!»
«Five years Ive put up with your nonsense,» Emily zipped the bulging bag. «Three months Ive lived like a stranger in my own home!»
She marched to the bedroom for Daniels thingsjumpers, shirts, jeansall into another bag. He followed, grabbing her arm.
«Think! Where do we go?»
«Not my problem,» Emily wrenched free. «Try Toms.»
«Theres no room at Toms!» Margaret wailed from the hall. «Theyve got the baby!»
«And Ive got me!» Emily shouted back, hauling both bags to the door.
She returned for shoes, toiletries, knick-knacks.
«Youll regret this!» Daniel yelled, shoving on his jacket. «Youll come crawling back!»
Emily held the door open in silence. Margaret sniffled, stuffing the last of her bits into a bag.
«Love, think again,» she pleaded. «Where will we live?»
«Where you lived before me,» Emily replied.
Daniel grabbed his bag, stormed out. On the step he turned, face twisted with rage.
Margaret stepped out last, dragging her bags. From the path she looked back.
«Ungrateful mare!» she shouted. «We only ever wanted whats best for you!»
Emily shut the door. Turned the key twice, slid the bolt. Shouts, footsteps, car doors slamming echoed from the drive.
Then quiet.
Emily stood with her back to the door, listening to her own breathing. For the first time in months, no blaring telly, no creaking sofa under Margarets weight.
She walked into the sitting room. Moved the sofa back, turned the telly round. Brought her plants in from the shed.
Then she sat down, took the rescued album in her hands. Flicked through the pagesschool nativity plays, a birthday cake with five candles, sports day medals.
And suddenly she laughed. Quiet at first, then louder. The laughter turned to sobs, then back to laughter. She laughed till tears ran down her cheeks, clutching the album to her chest.
The house was hers again. Hers alone.
