Come along now and be a proper host for the guests, the groom urged as his relatives arrived at her flat to discuss the wedding.
Welcome, my dear, youre now our most beloved daughterinlaw, Margaret Hawthorne said, embracing Emily once more. James Hawthorne had only recently proposed to Emily, and the couple had announced their imminent marriage to both families. James already knew Emilys parents, but for Emily this was her first encounter with her future motherinlaw.
Emilys parents, John and Victoria Bennett, had spent their lives in bustling London and were comfortably welloff. They had provided their daughter with everything she might need: a flat, a car, a prestigious education and a respectable job, and they expected her to choose a husband of equal standing.
James seemed a decent match. By the age of twentyfive he held a respectable position in a large corporation, earned a solid salary, and lived in a nice part of the city. It later emerged, however, that his flat was a rented one. Yet Emily persuaded her parents that, since she already had a roof over her head, there was no immediate need for a mortgage.
Well stay in my flat first, then buy something together later.
You understand that anything bought together will be split fiftyfifty, dont you? John asked, his brow furrowing. He was uneasy that Jamess dowry consisted solely of a large extended family.
Were not planning on parting ways, Father! What are you talking about?
Everything can happen
But not to us! James and I love each other. He earns enough to contribute to the household.
It may be decent by some standards, but its clearly less than yours. Thats not ideal.
Emily earns above average, so youve set the bar too high, John, Victoria interjected, defending her soontobe daughterinlaw. Let them live together. He seems a decent sort, and Emily loves him.
John pressed on, Theyre planning a wedding, after all.
Yes, and thats right. Im glad he has serious intentions. You know how it goesten years together, children, and the registry office stalls.
We know what serious intentions look like in a London flat.
Father! How can you say that? Mother, tell him! Emily burst into tears; her fathers words struck a chord. She assumed he doubted her ability to attract a suitable partner and, feeling wounded, fled the room.
What sort of man are you, John? Why are you hurting her? Victoria whispered. Johns reply went unheard, but later she convinced him that Emily was free to choose her own husband and that James was not a terrible option. John gave his blessing, and the groom invited Emily to meet his parents.
Why not meet at the inn? Your relatives can come by train, theres no problem with the railway.
My family is large, love. Where will they all stay?
In an inn, Emily offered hesitantly.
They cant afford hotels or fancy restaurants; theyre simple folk. I cant house them all at my expense we need to save for the wedding. Lets go to the village where I was born. Youll reach it by train, avoiding the traffic.
Emily thought the wedding didnt need to be postponed, as her father could afford a splendid ceremony, but she acquiesced.
The journey to strangers homes made her nervous, yet Jamess encouragement steadied her. That weekend John and Victoria escorted Emily and James to his familys village. John was displeased, but kept his opinion to himself after a talk with his wife. Victoria, too, was wary of the trip, yet it would be rude to arrive uninvited, so only Emily travelled.
Emily, polite as ever, stocked up on presents after learning what his relatives liked. She bought a beautiful tablecloth and a set of towels for her future motherinlaw, and sweets, tea and coffee for the rest.
Ready for introductions?
Honestly, a little frightened.
Dont worry, theyre simple folk. Dont expect London comforts or gilded lavatories.
No, what? Wooden ones out on the street?
No, it isnt that bad, James laughed.
The village was indeed modestold cottages, a cracked road, a few overgrown gardens. Jamess house stood out with a reasonably kept garden and a freshly painted fence, showing signs of regular occupation.
At the gate a large dog lay in a kennel. Hearing the guests, it barked loudly, startling Emily.
Shoo! Away with you! James ordered, dragging the dog away from his future wife.
Why is he so angry?
He guards the house. This isnt London where dogs are pampered.
A woman burst from a corner, shouting, The children have arrived! My dear son! She rushed to embrace them.
Emily, unused to such overt displays, felt out of place. The future motherinlaw soothed herself only after kissing her daughterinlaw and son, then finally opened the door.
Inside, the reception was no less enthusiastic. Emily was hugged countless times, introduced to aunt after aunt, sister after sister, uncle with his wife and children, a grandmother, distant cousins and even neighboursall gathered around the bewildered Emily, bombarding her with questions.
How did you get here? Why keep such a pretty girl away from the family for so long? When will you have children? Where do you live? What do you do? Who are your parents? Where did you meet?
The countless queries seemed inappropriate; even the amount of lipstick left on her cheeks was hard to count.
Let us have a rest, were exhausted from the journey, James said, realizing she wasnt ready for the onslaught. He literally pulled her away from the ring of relatives.
Twenty minutes of tea, then well sit down. We want to know everything, every detail! his mother declared.
Dont be frightened, theyre only nervous at first. Theyll settle down.
How do you know? Have you already taken her home? Emily snorted.
No, I just know my family.
Come, change and join us at the table. Mothers made dumplings especially for you. Please praise her cooking.
Very well
Emily and James were placed at the head of the table. The dishes presented to her blurred into the background as she stared at her plate. She noticed a small chip along the edge of a plate.
Ah, theyre eating from cracked crockery, she thought. The cutlery was old, and a hole dangled from the corner of the tablecloth that hung near her foot. No wonder I bought that cloth as a gift; it must be a hundred years old.
They peppered her with questions about family, childhood, youth, and everything else, never asking for her blood type. James finally suggested a break for food.
Eat, dear guests! This was made from my grandmothers recipe. Do you have any family recipes, Emily?
No
How can that be? Not a single family dish?
My grandmother died when I was three. My parents employ a housekeeper to cook and clean.
Ah, city folk! And what do you eat yourself? Do you like cooking?
Honestly, I dont enjoy cooking. Im used to eating out or my parents meals, Emily confessed, feeling a sting from her motherinlaws glance.
Our boy is used to homecooked food, so youll have to learn yourself, interjected Jamess sister, Nina.
My familys recipes are passed down through generations, Margaret continued. You should know how to cook; James loves my dumplings.
Emily was at a loss.
Perhaps its time to try what everyone has spoken of, James nudged his plate toward her. Eat, lest the conversation dies and the night cools.
She nodded, and under the watchful eyes of the relatives, a piece of dumpling slipped down her throat. It was scalding, and the broth was overly salted.
What do you think? the family stared, from the youngest to the elders.
Delicious, Emily lied, not wishing to appear rude. James patted her hand approvingly, and she forced a smile, yearning for the evening to end so she could escape the inquisitive gazes.
Shall we leave today? she asked James when a chance arose.
What? Mother will be upset. No, I promised to stay until tomorrow.
Then well depart at first light. I still have work to finish.
You work too much, Emily. Its the weekend; you should rest.
She concocted another excuse to leave early, feigning illness at dawn, and James reluctantly cancelled their joint meals.
Regrettable that youre leaving so soon. We barely spoke, Margaret lamented.
Better that you visit us sometime, Emily replied politely.
Of course, well come. Aside from my son, we have no one else in London, Margaret said.
Emily smiled at the farewell, and she and James left.
How did you find my family? James asked.
Lovely people, Emily answered, keeping her discomfort to herself.
Thank you for respecting my mother. That means a lot to me.
Youre welcome honestly, those dumplings were terribly salty!
So you lied when you said you liked them? Jamess disappointment was evident.
You said I should like them even if they arent, Emily retorted.
I didnt think youd have the nerve to critique what we prepared for your arrival.
She was at a loss for words.
Lets pretend that incident never happened, James suggested. Emily agreed, not wanting a quarrel and believing it a trivial matter. In the end, she managed to swallow the oversalted dumplings.
But when my relatives come, youll really have to learn to cook. We cant serve guests with storebought salads.
What? Are they really coming? Emily asked, surprised.
You invited everyone to our place.
I only invited your mother.
She wont travel alone; family ties mean everything to us. This isnt a big city where everyone looks after themselves.
Emily swallowed his words, hoping the meeting would be delayed; she still had plenty of work, and the weeks flew by.
We need to pick a wedding cake. The best baker is booked six months in advance, but I managed a tasting for tomorrow, Emily reminded James when he returned from work.
Well handle the cake later, not this weekend.
Why?
Because well have guests.
But I didnt plan that Emily protested.
We agreed last week. Tomorrow at noon we must meet the relatives at the station. Ask your father for company cars.
Cant your relatives take a taxi? she asked, not wishing to involve her father.
Theyre ours, not just mine. And no, a taxi would be too costly to transport everyone.
How many are coming? Emily pressed.
Im not sure, but three cars should be enough, plus ours.
Where will we house them? A hotel?
Theyre not proud folk; they could even sleep on the floor.
Feeling overwhelmed, Emily called her mother.
I dont know what to do! I have a meeting and a mountain of tasks, and he still wont tell me how many are arriving!
Dont worry. Kira, our housekeeper, will prepare everything and bring it to you. We can also put some of them up at our place.
Emily exhaled with relief, grateful for her mothers help. By the appointed time, the table was set, the finest tablecloth spread, and everything ready for the guests.
Will your mother leave? James asked as he entered.
No she wants to meet yours.
I wouldnt introduce them before the wedding, but there seems no other way. We also need to discuss the dowry, rites and customs.
What rites?
The wedding loaf, the ceremony.
Emily hadnt answered when a knock sounded. The relatives had arrived.
Again came the endless embraces and greetings. As the future husbands kin filled the hallway, Emily realised she was meeting half of them for the first time.
Alright, host, tell us where to go? Margaret asked. Emily ignored Tatyanas (the motherinlaws) words, but Victoria was displeased that the flat suddenly seemed owned by someone not on the lease.
Mum, will the food be enough? Emily whispered.
I dont know. Have they arrived like a whole village? Do you know them all?
No
Well manage somehow.
The guests managed to sit, though the living room was cramped; children were set at a separate table.
Heres to the couple! Margaret raised her glass, pouring herself a glass of vintage wine, then reaching for a plastic bottle she had brought.
Thats the way we do it, Margaret! the guests cheered.
Only Emilys mother drank the wine; Emily herself stuck to water, feeling awkward in her own flat.
What a fancy spread what is this? a guest asked, picking up a bruschetta with duck liver.
No, we dont eat that. Anything hot coming?
James leaned toward Emily, whispering, Darling, you must look after the guests. Its unbecoming to sit idle while Kira does everything. Mother will think poorly of you if you just sit like a guest.
Emily found herself clearing plates, accidentally breaking one in her nerves. Margaret frowned disapprovingly.
We wanted to talk about the wedding, James reminded, steering conversation away.
Yes, we have a tradition that when a wedding is announced, the whole village celebrates. The second day will be here at our place.
Do you have a café? Victoria asked.
No need for a café. Well set tables outside, thatll be fine.
Will you hire a caterer?
A caterer? Were simple folk, not London. Well make jellied meat, dumplings, and jelly
For a wedding? Jelly? Emily was appalled; she loathed jelly and didnt want dumplings or jelly at her own wedding. She preferred a proper setting, not a barn with wooden benches.
The menu will be discussed. By tradition the bride must help prepare the table, so youll need to arrive the day before and lend a hand. The more we feed, the richer our lives become, Margaret added.
We hoped to travel after the wedding, Emily said to James.
Of course, well go once the second days festivities are over. A oneday celebration isnt a celebration. A marriage should be remembered for ages.
Will you need help from the bride on the second day, and will you assist with the first? Victoria asked.
What do you need?
First, tell us how many of your side will attend.
About a hundredandfifty we havent counted exactly. Maybe a bit more.
All close relatives?
You split relatives into close and distant? We have no such notion; in the village everyone is family.
So well split the banquet costs proportionally. Ten percent for ninety percent.
We could pay fifteen percent, depending on the total. We wont cover the delicacies; well bring our own
No, you misunderstood. Proportionally to guests. If ninety percent of the guests are ours, we pay ninety percent of the bill, Margaret clarified.
Strange maths, youre trying to earn from us?
Victorias face fell; she could no longer keep a polite smile.
In what sense earn?
Our relatives will bring more gifts than yours. Ninety percent, to be precise.
How did you work that out?
Because roughly ten of your guests will come, while ninety are ours. Even a hedgehog could see that.
Our guests are welloff.
Were not poor either! Or do you have a bias against us simple folk? We may be simple, but were more honest than the city rich.
Emily listened, wishing she could disappear into the earth. She felt ashamed of the crude exchange her future inlaws had staged, while James sat silently, sometimes nodding at his mother, sometimes glancing at Emily. Finally he whispered loudly enough for her to hear, Calm down, Emily. A wedding is a partnership; we must compromise.
May I serve the cake with the tea? Kira asked, rescuing Emily from a faint. She changed the subject to the cake.
We should have gone to the cake tasting today, but it was cancelled. The baker understood our plight and brought samples himself
Will the cake be expensive? Jamess sister inquired.
The bakers cakes are unique. The price is justified, but it will be a gift from my friend, so dont worry.
Why spend that much? A decent local baker could do it cheap.
The friend isnt a friend, just a swindler trying to save you. The cake costs three thousand pounds. Here in the village we have Sonya who bakes cheaply and well. No fancy ingredients.
Agreed! The filling is gritty, like sand, and the chocolate isnt even chocolate thats not London! the grooms mother exclaimed.
Thank you for the pleasant dinner. I think its time, Victoria said, signalling Kira to clear the table.
Will they pour more tea?
Kira, take the tea in plastic cups, and pack the cake in containers. Quickly the guests must catch the train, and then the underground.
Margaret tried to protest, but Emily ignored Jamess irritation. She realised her mother was right.
When the guests departedYears later, Emily would smile at the memory of that humble village feast, grateful that love had finally outweighed all the stubborn negotiations and misunderstandings.
