After glancing at her daughter, Emily saw angry red welts from a belt. Something deep within her shattered. She gently shifted the children aside and stood tall.
Emily dragged herself home from work that evening, the autumn wind tugging at her coat, the heavy sky pressing down like a weight. But it wasnt the weather that burdened her. An unwelcome guest had arrived that day.
Earlier, during an important client meeting, Thomas had called:
«Emily, dont be cross, but Ive picked Mum up from the station. She missed the grandchildren. Shes staying a few days.»
Those words sent a chill through her. Her mother-in-law, Margaret Whitmore, had been a constant trial. In ten years of marriage, Emily had never found common ground with her.
«Thomas, we agreed,» she said, keeping her voice steady. «You were supposed to let me know beforehand.»
«Sorry, love. She rang out of the bluesaid she needed tests at the hospital in Manchester. Thought shed visit us too. I couldnt turn her away.»
Emily exhaled sharply. Of course he couldnt. Thomas had always been soft with his mother, no matter how difficult she was.
«Fine. Ill stay latethis projects due tomorrow.»
«Dont fret, Mumll watch the children. Shes brought them presents. Ive got to dashclients system is down.»
So Emily delayed her return as long as possible. The thought of spending the evening with the woman whod once thrown her and little William out into the rain, cursing her for every imagined fault, was unbearable.
Her phone buzzed in her pocketa message from Thomas:
«Still with the client. Running late. How are you holding up?»
She sighed and typed:
«Nearly home. Ill manage.»
Memories of their early marriage flashed through her mind. Back then, theyd lived in his mothers housespacious but as cold as the woman herself.
Six years earlier.
Young Emily stood at the stove, stirring stew. Upstairs, baby Williamjust five months oldwas crying. She wiped her hands on her apron, turning to tend to him, when Margaret swept into the kitchen.
«Cant you hear the child wailing?» her mother-in-law snapped.
«I was just going to him,» Emily replied evenly.
«Youre always just going,» Margaret scoffed. «And nothing gets done. My Thomas slept like an angel at that age. Must be your blood in him.»
Emily bit her tongue. Remarks like that were daily fare.
Margaret peered into the pot.
«Whats this slop? Thomas wouldnt touch it.»
«Its his favourite stew,» Emily countered. «He asked for it.»
«Rubbish. Im his mother. I know what he likes!»
Margaret seized the pot and dumped its contents into the sink. Emilys eyes stung.
«Why did you do that? I spent hours on it!»
«Stop fussing. Tend to the baby. Ill make my son a proper meal.»
When Thomas returned that evening, his mother met him at the door:
«Son, your wifes done nothing all day! Left the baby crying. Thank goodness I was here.»
Thomas sighed.
«Mum, Im sure Emily cares for William.»
«Always defending her!» Margaret threw up her hands. «Shes got you wrapped around her finger. And Im nothing to you now!»
With a dramatic sob, she flounced off. Thomas gave Emily an apologetic look.
«Sorryshe means well»
«Thomas, she throws out my cooking,» Emily whispered. «Tells William Im a bad mother. Its too much.»
«Just hold on a bit longer,» he pleaded. «Well move out soon, I promise.»
But months passed, and things only worsened.
A cars horn jolted Emily from her thoughts. She quickened her pace, nearing home.
Before she knew it, she was in the lift, pressing her forehead to the cold wall.
«Its only a few days,» she murmured. «Just get through it.»
When the doors opened, a sound froze herdesperate, childlike sobbing. It was little Charlotte.
She sprinted to the flat, hands trembling as she fumbled with the key. The door swung open.
The sight turned her blood to ice.
There stood Margaret, belt in hand, lashing Charlotte. The girl cowered in a corner, weeping. William shielded his sister, tears streaking his face.
«Ill teach you to touch my things!» Margaret raised the belt again.
Emilys face burned.
«What on earth are you doing?!» she shrieked, rushing to her children.
Margaret turned, unrepentant.
«About time! Your brat ruined my new handbagcost me fifty quid! Then she cheeked me!»
Emily gathered her sobbing children.
«You struck my child?! Have you lost your mind?!»
«Dont tell me how to discipline!» Margaret snapped. «I raised my son alone! Id whip sense into you too if I could!»
Examining Charlotte, Emily saw the welts. Something inside her broke.
She set the children aside and stood tall.
«Get out of my home.»
Margaret gaped.
«Im not leaving! I came to see my son and tend to my grandchildren!»
«Mum,» William quavered, «Grandma hit Charlotte cause she spilled tea. Then Charlotte said hittings wrong, and Grandma got madder»
«Quiet!» Margaret barked, but Emily stepped between them.
«Dont you dare shout at my son! You struck my daughter. Youd have hit him too if he hadnt dodged!»
The front door opened. Thomas walked in.
«Whats happened? Why are they crying?»
Margarets face transformed. Tears welled.
«Son, Emily shouted at me! I merely scolded Charlotte, and she flew off the handle!»
Thomass gaze fell on the belt.
«Mum whats that?»
«I found it in your old briefcasemeant to polish the buckle»
«Dad!» Charlotte wept. «Grandma hit me with it cause I spilled tea!»
Thomas knelt, stroking her back.
«Show me where it hurts, poppet»
Seeing the marks, he stood slowly, his gentle eyes turning hard.
«Mum. You struck my children?»
He opened a cabinetinside, a small security camera blinked.
«We installed this to check on them. Ive just seen the recording.»
Margaret paled.
«Thomas, darlingyou know I adore them! It was just discipline! In my day, this was normalwe turned out fine!»
«In your day,» he said coldly, «children shouldnt fear their grandmother. In your day, adults spoke to themdidnt beat them. Thomas picked up his phone and dialed slowly. Im calling the police, Mum. Youre not coming near my children again.
Margaret staggered back, muttering, Youll regret this shell turn you against me but her voice cracked with disbelief.
Emily held her children close, trembling not with fear, but with a fierce, quiet strength shed never known she had.
The door closed behind Margaret, the silence left in her wake heavier than any storm.
Outside, rain began to fall, washing the pavement clean.
