Long ago, in a quiet village near York, a bitter frost clung to the windowpanes as dawn broke. «You took my son from me, and Ill take everything from you,» hissed the mother-in-law, her voice like the crackle of dry leaves.
«Emily, youre up early,» remarked Margaret Whitmore, peering from her chamber. «Half past six in the morning!»
«Ive an unscheduled meeting at work,» Emily replied, hastily stuffing papers into her bag. «The foreman called an early briefing.»
Margaret shuffled to the kitchen in her slippers, clattering dishes as she went. Emily tried to slip past unnoticed, but it was no use.
«What of breakfast? Shall my boy go to work hungry?»
«William is a grown manhe can cook his own breakfast,» Emily said, pulling on her coat and searching for her keys.
«Is that so?» Margaret turned sharply, her full frame blocking the doorway. «In my day, a wife knew her duty. Women took pride in caring for their husbands.»
Emily sighed deeply. This same conversation had repeated every morning since Margaret had moved in six months prior, after her illness. Still, Emily hadnt grown accustomed to the constant scrutiny.
«Margaret, William and I decide such matters together. Ours is a marriage of equals.»
«Equals!» Margaret scoffed. «My boy never missed a meal under my roof. Now look at himthin as a rake!»
Emily bit back the retort that William, at thirty, was hardly a boy. Arguing with Margaret was like tilting at windmills.
«Fine. Im late. Williams still asleepwake him at eight.»
«Oh, Ill wake him, dont you fret. I know my responsibilities, unlike some.»
At the mill, Emily struggled to focus. Her colleague, Beatrice, noticed her distraction by midday.
«Whats troubling you? You look worn to the bone,» Beatrice said, settling beside her with a cup of tea.
«The same old trouble with Mother Whitmore. Every day, its somethingmy cooking, my cleaning, even how I speak to William.»
«And he doesnt defend you?»
Emily gave a hollow laugh. «Hardly. To him, shes a saint. Says shes unwell, that we must be patient.»
«Will she stay much longer?»
«Who knows? The physician says shes fit to live alone, but William wont hear of it. What if something happens?»
Beatrice shook her head sympathetically. «Poor Em. I cant abide my husbands mother, and she doesnt even live with us.»
That evening, Emily returned home weary and hungry. The scent of roast beef and potatoes lingered in the air. In the parlour, William lounged with a plate in his lap, eyes fixed on the wireless.
«Evening, love,» he said without looking up. «How was work?»
«Fine. Whats for supper?»
«Mother made roast beef. Theres some left in the kitchen.»
Emily found Margaret scrubbing dishes, her back turned.
«Good evening, Margaret.»
«Evening,» came the curt reply.
Emily lifted the pot lida single slice of beef and a spoonful of potatoes remained.
«Is this all?»
«Not enough?» Margaret finally faced her. «I thought you were watching your figure. Always fretting over your waistline.»
«I dont fret. I merely mentioned my skirts feeling snug.»
«Precisely. Im mindful of your health.»
Emily carried her plate to the parlour. William was engrossed in a nature programme.
«Will, might we talk?»
«Of course. What about?»
«Go to the kitchen. See what your mother left me.»
With a sigh, William rose and returned moments later.
«So? Its a fair portion.»
«For a sparrow, perhaps. Will, Ive worked all dayIm starving, and this is scraps!»
«Mother!» he called. «Why so little for Emily?»
«Darling, I thought dear Emily wasnt terribly hungry. Shes always speaking of slimming down.»
«There, you see?» William turned to his wife. «Mother meant well.»
Something inside Emily boiled over.
«Will, your mother leaves me crumbs on purpose. Every. Single. Day.»
«Dont be absurd. Mothers kindness itself.»
«Kind to you. To me, shes a taskmaster, berating me for failing her standards.»
A loud sniffle came from the kitchen. William leapt up.
«Now see what youve done! Youve upset her!»
«And what of me?»
But he was already gone, soothing Margaret. Emily sat alone, staring at her uneaten supper.
When the kitchen fell silent, William returned, guilt etched on his face.
«Sorry, Em. Mothers fragile. Says she feels unwanted here.»
«Good. She should.»
«Emily!»
«What? Were a young couple. We ought to live our own lives, not under her watchful eye.»
«Shes not watchingshe cares.»
«Cares?» Emily laughed bitterly. «She critiques how I wash, cook, even breathe!»
William sank onto the settee.
«Just a little longer. Shell settle. Then well find her a cottage nearby.»
«When?»
«I dont know. But I promise.»
The next day, Emily returned early, determined to cook supper herself. She bought fresh ingredients, hoping for peace.
But as she opened the door, Margarets voice carried from the parlour:
«Yes, Willy, I understand your wife. Young, inexperienced. But even my patience has limits.»
Emily froze. William murmured something, but she caught only,
«Mother, dont say such things. Emilys a good woman.»
«Good, but not for you. See how thin youve grown? And her temper! Always discontent, always finding fault.»
«Shes tired from work.»
«Work, work! What of home? Of family? Her priorities are skewed. Tell me, Willydid you marry in haste?»
A chill ran down Emilys spine. She forced calm into her voice as she entered.
«Good evening.»
«Oh, Emily! We didnt hear you,» Margaret said, not a trace of shame. «How was work?»
«Fine. I thought Id cook tonight.»
«No need. Ive made your favouritebeef stew.»
«Thank you, Mother,» William said. «You dont mind, Em?»
«Not at all,» Emily lied.
Supper passed in stiff silence. William spoke of the mill; Margaret fawned. Emily ate mechanically, though the stew was delicious.
«Emily,» Margaret asked sweetly, «any plans for the weekend?»
«None. Why?»
«Id like Willy to take me to the apothecary. I need a tonic.»
«Of course, Mother. Happy to.»
«Good. I feared Emily might have… other plans for you.»
The subtle mockery in Margarets tone was unmistakable. Emily met her gazeand saw triumph glittering there.
After supper, Emily claimed a headache and retreated to bed. Lying awake, she knew: Margaret had declared war. And William, blind to his mothers schemes, would be no shield.
He came late, sitting on the beds edge.
«Hows your head?»
«Better.»
«Em… have you noticed Mothers been odd?»
«How so?»
«One moment, she complains of being unwelcome. The next, she refuses to leave.»
Emily propped herself up.
«What exactly does she say?»
«All sorts. Today, she wondered if our marriage was a mistake.»
«And you said?»
«That we love each other and will endure.»
«Will, your mother despises me. Shes trying to divide us.»
«Rubbish. She worries for me.»
«She wants me gone.»
«Emily, you exaggerate. Mother speaks out of turn sometimes, but shes not cruel.»
«If you believe that, watch her tomorrow. Closely.»
The next day, William worked from home. Emily asked him to observe Margarets behaviour.
That evening, his expression told her everything.
«Well?» she asked once alone.
William sighed.
«You were right. Mother was… strange today.»
«What happened?»
«She spoke of you all day. Called you slovenly, disrespectful. Then said outright I shouldnt have married you.»
«And you replied?»
«That I love you and wont tolerate interference.»
«And she?»
A pause.
«She wept. Said Id chosen a wife over my own mother.»
«Classic manipulation.»
«Emily, shes unwell. The surgery, her nerves…»
«How long will you excuse her? Shes tearing us apart deliberately!»
«Fine. Ill speak to her. Make her see reason.»
The following morning, raised voices woke Emily. William and Margaret argued in the kitchen.
«Son, you dont see her true nature!»
«Mother, stop! Emily is my wife, and you will respect her!»
«Respect? For what? Turning you against me?»
Emily stood in the doorway.
Margaret whirled, face flushed. «You took my son, and Ill take everything from you.»
«Mother!» William cried.
«Everything?» Emily asked calmly.
«Youll see. Think I dont know how to handle your sort? Ive lived forty years. I know every womans weakness.»
«Are you threatening me?»
«Warning you. My son will live as I see fit. Cross me, and youll regret it.»
«Mother, what are you saying?» William stood. «How can you speak to my wife so?»
«And how does she speak to your mother? Think I dont see her scorn? Hear her whispers against me?»
«Emily would never»
«Silence!» Margaret cut him off. «Youre blind, boy. Cant you see what this girl is doing to our family?»
Emilys patience snapped.
«Margaret, I took nothing. William chose me. If that displeases you, return to your own cottage.»
«So! Youd cast out a sick woman from her sons home!»
«Im not casting you out. Im suggesting we live separately.»
«Emilys right, Mother,» William said quietly. «Perhaps its time you moved back.»
Margaret looked as if struck.
«So,» she hissed. «You choose her.»
«I chose my wife when I married. Youll always be my mother.»
«Then well see what you do when she leaves you.»
«Mother, what do you mean?»
But Margaret was already gone, the door slamming behind her.
William sank into a chair, rubbing his temples.
«Forgive me, Emily. I never thought it would come to this.»
«Will, your mother means to ruin me. I fear what shell do next.»
«What can she do? Empty threats.»
William embraced her. «Shell do nothing. I wont allow it.»
But Emily knewthis was only the beginning. Margarets war had just begun, and she would not retreat.
At lunch, her friend Lucy called.
«Em, did you know your mother-in-law telephoned my mum?»
«She what? Why?»
«Asked all about you. School, old sweethearts, if youd ever taken drink or worse.»
Emilys skin prickled.
«What did your mother say?»
«Nothing damning. Said you were a decent girl, did well in lessons. But why would she ask?»
«I dont know. Mere curiosity.»
But Emily understoodMargaret was digging for ammunition.
That evening, the house was thick with tension. Margaret ignored Emily, lavishing false sweetness on William.
«Willy, I made your favourite pie. Eat, my dear, eat.»
«Thank you, Mother. Delicious.»
«And for you, Emily, plain porridge. I know youre watching your figure.»
Emily stared at the bland gruel.
«Thank you, but Im not dieting.»
«Now, now, no shame. All young ladies fret over their looks.»
Over supper, Margaret prattled about village gossip. Emily half-listened until a familiar name surfaced.
«Old Mrs. Higgins says her daughter-in-law came home drunk again, striking her husband. Imaginesuch creatures exist!»
«Dreadful,» William agreed.
«Thank heavens my boy chose a respectable girl.»
Emily met Margarets gazeand saw the warning there: *I can spin tales about you too.*
Later, as Emily washed dishes, Margaret sidled close.
«Emily, I spoke to your schoolmate today. Sarah Cooper. She told me how you tippled at the leavers dance. How you kissed a boy behind the hedgerows.»
Emily turned.
«And?»
«My boy thinks he married a saint. Fancy his surprise when he learns the truth.»
«Margaret, I was seventeen. What of it?»
«Nothing, dear. OnlyWilliam doesnt know. Whether he learns… well, thats up to you.»
«Youre blackmailing me?»
«Im offering a choice. Leave now, before I reveal what you really are.»
«And what am I?»
Margaret leaned in, her breath sour.
«A harlot who seduced my boy. Think I dont know you lay with him before vows? Think I dont see your witchcraft?»
Emily recoiled.
«Youre unwell.»
«Unwell, but not blind. Ive known your kind. Pretty, cunning. Snaring men, bleeding them dry.»
«I earn my own wage.»
«For now. But bear children, and youll cling to my son like a leech.»
William appeared, towelling his hair.
«Ladies, whats this?»
«Just womanly talk,» Margaret simpered. «Emily was telling me of the mill.»
That night, Emily lay awake. Margarets war had begun in earnest. And she would stop at nothing to win.
Emily knew she must tell William everything. But she feared he wouldnt believe her. To him, Margaret was a saintwhile Emily had yet to prove her devotion.
Tomorrow would bring fresh attacks. And Emily felt, with sinking dread, that she was losing this battle before it had truly begun.
