You have no mother any more! shouts Margaret, the motherinlaw, as she flings her coat over the sofa.
Forget that you ever had a mother. After you get married, you stop bothering me, act as if I never existed, and never were. I wont even give you any money for the wedding. If I didnt pick your wife, I wont fund this whole charade.
Harry feels a burst of joy when his little son, Ben, wraps his arms around him and says,
Mum, youre the best in the world. Ill do everything I can to keep you smiling.
Ben has no idea how his simple words turn his mothers world upside down. She swells with pride, calling her son her little angel. His golden curls, blue eyes and aristocratic features make her think of a perfect heir. As he grows, Margaret begins to scrutinise every possible candidate for a future daughterinlaw. She insists the woman must have a respectable pedigree, polished looks, a slender figure, a university degree and flawless manners, not to mention a good job in a prestigious firm and a network of influential friends.
My son already has a flat in London. He now needs a proper lady to keep it immaculate, and to welcome guests at any hour, even three in the morning, because thats her duty as wife and housekeeper.
Time goes by, and Margarets demands only harden.
She must be under thirty, otherwise shell bear a weak child. And we need to be sure the baby is definitely Harrys.
Margaret, have a little respect for God, say her sisters. There arent any girls these days who meet your standards. If you want Harry to marry and have children, stop pestering him with your whims, or hell stay single forever.
Harry graduates with top honours from both school and university, lands a wellpaid managerial role at a fintech firm, yet his personal life stalls. Every time he introduces a potential partner to his mother, she finds a thousand reasons to reject her. At each meeting she asks Harry,
Harry, could you slice some fruit in the kitchen while we chat?
The first woman Margaret meets is Poppy Jones, a girl from a modest background: her mother is an accountant, her father a coalminer, and she has two younger brothers. Poppy works as a pharmacy assistant, which makes Margaret wary.
So she has constant access to medication. What if she poisons my son? Or me? No, shes out. Her family are manual workers; we need none of that.
Darling, you understand you cant marry Harry, dont you? Margaret hisses when she and Poppy are left alone. Youre too different. He grew up in a world you could never imagine. Forget him and find someone more ordinary.
Poppy stands up without a word and leaves, not even saying goodbye to Harry. When he asks why, she replies coldly,
Ask your mother, the one who raised you in those special conditions. She says youre too good for me, so Ill look for someone simpler.
Mum, why did you turn Poppy away? I like her, truly like her. What did you tell her?
Son, youve forgotten something, Margaret sighs slowly. Im your mother; I know best who can make you happy. But it wont be Poppy, thats for sure. Where did you even find that? As if there were no respectable families left.
Harry realises arguing with his mother is pointless and walks away. He occasionally mentions a new girlfriend, but never brings her home. Margaret offers to help him start a family; he politely declines,
Ill choose my own wife.
I already know who youll pick, growls Margaret. Youll bring home a cleaner who knows nothing but mops and dusters.
At least the floors will shine, Harry retorts with a nasty grin.
Dont speak to your mother like that! she exclaims.
Harry retreats to his room. Eventually he decides to move out of his mothers flat and into the apartment she owns, which she has been renting out.
His relationship with his father, John Miller, has been strained since the divorce when Harry was six. John hadnt spoken to him for years, but recently he agrees to meet.
You know why I left Margaret? Because she never gave me a breath of fresh air. She controlled everything where I went, what I did, what I said. When I tried to spend time with you, shed scold me, saying I couldnt teach you anything because I lacked a degree. Why should she have raised a child for me? I was just a workhorse. Then I thought, why waste my life on a madwoman who never cared? I left, she refused child support and I lost parental rights.
And youre happy now? Harry frowns.
Why did you act like that? his father snaps. I bought you a flat and gave you the keys. Didnt she tell you?
What? Harry cant believe it.
John repeats,
I saved for ten years to give you a place of your own. If you stay with her, youll have no life of your own. She doesnt consider anyone a person.
Why didnt you talk to me? Harry asks timidly.
I didnt want you to get into trouble. Margaret threatened to take you to another city and Id never see you again. So I kept my distance.
His fathers words make Harry see his mother in a different light. Shes still the best person he knows, and he often says he wants a partner who resembles her in some way. Margaret smirks, sure hell never find anyone like her shes one in a million, maybe a billion.
After Poppy, Harry meets a string of other women, but none satisfy Margaret. Finally he gives his mother an ultimatum:
Either stop meddling in my life, or Ill stop talking to you.
You ungrateful brat, Margaret snaps. Who do you think you are? I bought you a home, paid for your education. How dare you?
Mum, enough, Harry pleads. I know who really bought that flat. I spoke with Dad, he told me everything.
And you trust him? she erupts. Not my own son, but some loser?
If anything, that loser is my father.
Margarets face turns pale. She gives Harry a cold stare and retreats to her bedroom. The next morning she doesnt come down for breakfast. Harry knocks, hears a furious shout,
Leave me alone and go back to that worthless father of yours!
Mum, why are you like this? Harry opens the door and finds Margaret slumped on the bed, hair dishevelled, her dress rumpled, staring blankly at the ceiling. Its a stark contrast to her usual immaculate appearance, scented with expensive perfume.
You know, son, Ive realised something, she says slowly. Marry whomever you like, I dont care. Even a man who looks like a cross between a penguin and a rhinoceros. Just forget you ever had a mother. After the wedding you wont bother me, and I wont pretend I never existed. And I wont give you any wedding money either. If I didnt pick your wife, I wont fund this farce.
I get it, Mum, Harry jokes, bows mockingly and quietly closes the door. That day he moves into the flat that is now truly his.
Six months later he invites his mother to a restaurant to announce his impending marriage.
And who is she? Margaret asks indifferently.
Whatever she is, youll never like her, Harry replies coldly. I just want you to know her name: Emily Clarke. Shes twentysix, comes from a long line of doctors, a very respectable girl.
Good heavens, and how confident are you of her worthiness? Margaret rolls her eyes. Show me a picture.
Harry pulls out his phone and shows her a photo. Margaret purses her lips and shakes her head disapprovingly.
And this is the future mother of my grandchildren? What a nightmare!
The woman in the picture has an unmistakably Eastern European look.
Thats not Emily, thats a girl named Gulchatai. Why call her Emily?
Emily is halfKorean, Harry explains patiently.
Even better, Margaret snorts. Like a bulldog mixed with a rhinoceros.
Youll like her once you get to know her after the wedding, Harry smiles.
Margarets breathing catches at his words.
After the wedding?! Youre really getting married? Just to spite me?
Why would I do it for spite? Just for my own happiness, Harry grins and signals the waitress for the menu.
She sits in shock, trying to picture the grandchildren shell have with such a motherinlaw. The image is dreadful.
At the wedding Harry pulls his mother aside and says firmly,
No drama, please. If Emily ever leaves me because of you, Ill never forgive you, understand?
Margaret has to sit quiet as a mouse, lower than the grass. She watches the radiant bride and her joyful son receive congratulations, join games, dance, and share loving glances. The next day the newlyweds bring a gift for Margaret, but she refuses to let them in.
Listen, son. Ive done everything you asked. Now hear me out. Dont bring that halfbreed into my house again. Do you even realise what youre doing? You could have a thousand wives, but a mother is only one.
The couple leaves, and Margaret, fuming, throws the gift into the bin.
I wont take anything from that halfblood, she snarls.
After that, Margaret falls ill frequently, and Emily looks after her, hiring a livein carer for day and night. Margaret cant bring herself to accept the daughterinlaw she despises, especially after Harry compared her to her own mother in a negative way.
You said youd find someone who looks like me. Wheres the resemblance? Margaret mutters, bitterly aware that she now depends on Emilys care, which drives her mad.
When the phone rings, Margaret answers in a sweet tone,
Hello, love. How are you? My blood pressure is spiking. Could you pop round and check on me? Great, see you soon
