Emily was dusting the photographs on the dresser when she heard Jamess footsteps in the hallway. March was damp, and even the radiators could not banish the chill from their twobedroom flat in Manchester.
On the windowsill the violets had wilted, the only reminder of that warm May when they had first married.
James appeared in the kitchen in old jeans and a stretchedout Tshirt. His hair stuck out in every direction, and a pillowmark remained on his cheek.
Already up? he said, reaching for the kettle. I thought we could sleep in on a Saturday.
Sleep? Emily hung the dishcloth on the hook by the sink. Your mother has called twice already. She wants to know when well come to help with the garden.
James cleared his throat. Outside a flock of sparrows darted past, and a dog barked somewhere in the back garden.
What did you tell her?
I said wed think about it, Emily opened the fridge, took out some cheese and began arranging it on plates. But I dont get why wed have to drive there every weekend. Elenas son Victor is what, a sparehand?
Victor works two shifts, James sat down and sprinkled a little sugar over the cheese. He never gets a day off.
Never, huh, Emily sat beside him. So Im supposed to be the carefree one? I work too, you know.
James said nothing, sipped his tea and stared out the window. Across the street, a neighbour was fidgeting with a bicycle, turning the wheels upside down to tighten the chain.
Do you remember how we first met your family? Emily asked, biting into a slice of bread. I thought they were so welcoming
***
September turned out to be unusually warm. Emily was then a sales assistant in a fabric shop, and James was a fitter at the car plant. Theyd been dating for six months, and the time had come for a proper introduction to the parents.
My mum has been looking forward to meeting you, James said, straightening his shirt collar. Shes been preparing all week.
Mabels flat was in a fivestorey block. As soon as Emily stepped into the hall, the smell of bleach and cat litter hit her, and someone had scrawled vulgar graffiti on the walls.
Come in, lovebirds! Mabel greeted them on the stairwell, wearing a tidy floral dress with her hair neatly pinned.
Her home was a cosy showcase of senior life: vases of fresh flowers, candy jars on the mantel, woven rugs on the walls, and a vintage TV draped in a lace cover.
What a beauty! Jamess mother exclaimed, eyeing Emily. Ive just made borscht. Emily, could you set the table, please?
She thrust a stack of plates at Emily, who barely had time to glance around before she was whisked into the kitchen.
In the living room, Jamess brother lounged on the sofa. He was about twentyfive, broadshouldered, with a hint of stubble and a detached stare.
Hello, he grunted.
All evening Mabel kept asking Emily to pass sauces, slice bread, clear dishes. Victor sat on the sofa, nodding occasionally at his mother and mumbling responses to her questions.
My dear Victor is such a good helper, Mabel cooed when her son went out to the balcony for a smoke. Hes just tired from work, so I dont ask him to do much more.
A month later the wedding took place. Only a few guests turned up, but the day was warm and heartfelt. When it came time for presents, Mabel solemnly handed the newlyweds two modest parcels.
Emily received a cheap, sparkly blouse from the market, while James got a leather belt in a tidy box.
Sorry its so modest, Mabel chirped. My pension is small, just enough to get by
Victor sneered and turned toward the window. Emily bit her tongue, wanting to ask where her unemployed brother had gotten such pricey shoes.
***
Six months passed. Emily fell into a routine of cooking, cleaning, and laundry. James sometimes worked two shifts and came home exhausted; she tried not to add to his burden.
Mabel began dropping by every two days, usually around eight in the morning, just as Emily was heading out for work.
My carpet is soaked through. Could you get it out onto the balcony and give it a good shake? My back aches, cant lift anything heavy.
Or:
Pop over to Tesco for milk and a loaf. My legs swell if I walk too far
Emily complied without protest, hauling the carpet that clearly had been in Mabels family for generations.
Next door lived Victor, a healthy lad who spent his days gaming. His mother never asked him for anything.
You mustnt bother Victor, Mabel would say. Hes exhausted from work, even if he rests between shifts
One Thursday, Emily returned from the shop with heavy bags and saw Mabel on the stairwell.
Perfect timing! The potatoes are on sale at the market. Grab a bag, will you? My rheumatism makes it hard to carry anything.
Emily took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and looked Mabel straight in the eye.
No.
What do you mean no? Mabel asked, bewildered.
It means exactly that. Your son sits at home; let him stay there. Im not your servant.
What followed could have been called a fullblown drama. Mabels face twisted, all the wrinkles on her neck deepening.
Ungrateful! Lazy! How dare you! she shrieked, snatching Emilys coat and throwing it to the floor. Take this! For your audacity!
She stormed back to her flat.
Emily stood in the hallway, staring at the crumpled coat, and thought: what was she truly grateful for? The cheap blouse? The endless errands? Being treated like free labour?
***
Three days of silence followed. No knocks, no calls. Emily even enjoyed the unexpected peace, taking a leisurely breakfast and reading a book in the evening. James noticed the change too.
Looks like Mum hasnt been around lately, he said, twirling spaghetti onto his fork.
I dont miss her, Emily admitted honestly.
On the fourth day, while Emily was frying cutlets, Jamess phone rang like a fire alarm.
Turn the volume up, she said, stirring onions.
My dear, Ive lived to this age the voice crackled.
Again the same story, Emily thought, rolling her eyes. and the daughterinlaw is blamed for not helping the old lady or shopping. Im sitting here alone, unwanted
James scratched his head, frowning.
Enough with the theatrics, Mum, he said. I know you well enough.
You hurt me! Mabel sputtered.
When did I hurt you? Emily snapped. I only mentioned Victor
Dont touch Victor! Mabel roared. If he stays at home, thats how it should be!
Thats what irks me! James finally exploded. Youve been protecting him like a delicate vase all his life!
A heavy silence settled. The only sound was oil sizzling in the pan.
Fine, son, Mabels voice turned icy. If you wont ruin my birthday, lets end this once and for all.
James switched off the phone and stared out the window.
Sometimes I feel Mum lives in her own world, he said. Victor is an eternal child she must shelter, and everyone else are just background actors.
Emily rested her cheek against his shoulder. The kitchen smelled of burnt oil. She cursed under her breath.
***
That evening James stood very still, as if the whole world blamed him.
Are you going to stand there like a statue? Emily snapped. Fine, fine! Ill make peace with your mother.
James turned, smiled, satisfied that he had gotten his way.
The next morning Emily measured a few drops of valerian in a glass, drank it in one gulp, twisted the phone in her hand and finally called Mabel.
Ring. Ring. Ring. On the third try, someone answered.
Hello?
Good afternoon, Mabel, Emily began, feeling her throat dry. I wanted to apologise for the incident. I was wrong.
A long pause stretched, making Emily wonder if the line had cut.
I expected that, Mabel finally said. So, will you help me with my birthday?
Of course! Id be delighted.
Great. Ill text you the menu. Goodbye.
Emily was about to hang up when she heard faint voices behind the handset. Mabel had apparently forgotten to end the call and was now chatting with someone else.
Emily froze, phone pressed to her ear.
***
So, Victor, does it look right? Mabels voice floated through. Weve got our little princess all set
A chill ran down Emilys spine.
shell be silksmooth now.
Exactly, Victor replied. She thought she was the smartest one here
Emily squeezed the phone so hard the plastic creaked.
Let her know her place, Mabel hissed.
Dont worry, Victor muttered. If needed, Ill give her another poke with the wheels.
It turned out her cars tyres were flat, so she had to call a cab to avoid being late for work.
Alright, lets go for tea, Mabel said. Itll get cold otherwise
Silence settled over the flat. Emily slipped the phone into her pocket and leaned against the wall.
Well then, dear relatives, she whispered to herself. Ready for a game? Lets see who really runs the show.
A crow swooped past the window and perched on a branch. It was time to show who owned the household.
***
Mabels birthday fell on a Saturday. From early morning Emily was bustling in the kitchen, chopping salads and frying meat.
By two oclock the flat was filled with guests: neighbours from the block, a distant cousin from Leeds, former colleagues. About ten men gathered around.
All of this is thanks to Victor and me! the birthday lady chirped, flitting between tables. Three days straight of nonstop work!
Emily quietly set out plates, listening as Mabel bragged to the guests:
And the daughterinlaw, can you imagine, wont even peel a potato. She says neverwhat a lazy one
After the usual toasts and a mountain of presents, the guests began to eat.
A neighbour started coughing, then another gulped water, and soon several guests grimaced, spitting out their food.
Lord, why is it so salty? a colleague exclaimed. Its impossible to eat!
My tongue is numb! another agreed. Its as if Ive drunk sea water!
All eyes turned to Mabel, who flushed and stared at Emily with wide, watery eyes.
This this is the daughterinlaws fault! She
What daughterinlaw? a neighbour interjected. You just said you and your son prepared everything! You even painted the house yourself!
An awkward hush fell. Emily rose slowly from her seat.
If you wanted to turn me into a docile servant, your play has failed.
She headed for the exit but stopped beside Victor.
Return the money for the wheels down to the penny!
James sat with his mouth open. The guests froze like statues of salt. Emily, head held high, walked out of the flat, quietly closing the door behind her. Something clinked, and the birthday lady let out a soft sigh.
***
The sun was sinking toward the horizon. Emily rested in her favourite armchair by the window, sipping tea and savoring the aftertaste of the birthday drama.
The front door opened and James stepped in.
What on earth was that? he asked, lingering in the livingroom doorway.
Emily placed her cup on the windowsill and simply smiled. Outside, streetlamps flickered on. It was late March, the air fresh with spring. Pigeons perched on the wiring, and, in the distance, a church bell tolled, its sound solemn and hopeful.
In the end, Emily learned that standing up for oneself, even when the odds are stacked by family expectations, brings a quiet dignity that no amount of cheap gifts or endless chores can replace. The true wealth lies in selfrespect and the peace that follows when you finally set your own boundaries.
