**A Kingdom for a Grandchild**
*Diary Entry*
So, still not pregnant?
No, Margaret, not yet, Emily sighed, rolling her eyes as she fought to keep the irritation from her voice.
Honestly, you two! her mother-in-law huffed. You cant keep dragging your feet. Times ticking. Ill send you a videovery educational.
Right. Thanks, Emily muttered without enthusiasm, already dreading another lecture on fertility tips.
Margaret hung up. The knife clattered loudly against the chopping board as Emily sliced cucumbers with twice the usual force, venting her frustration.
Lately, Margaret didnt even bother with greetingsjust dove straight into *the* question. It drove Emily mad. Things hadnt always been this way.
Once, she and Margaret had gotten along fine. Calls were rareonce or twice a weekvisits even fewer. Occasionally, Margaret would ask for a lift to the shops or her mothers cottage, and in return, shed shower them with homemade jam, grapes, or cherries.
Then everything changed. Because of Margarets mother, Beatrice.
Even Margaret joked that Beatrice was a general in a skirt. A former schoolteacher, impossibly strict, she ruled the family with an iron fist. But Emily had been luckyby the time she met James, Beatrice rarely left her flat. Age and health kept her home.
Still, Beatrice did visit once. And once was enough.
What on earth is this slop? Youd feed this to chickens! Beatrice scoffed, peering into the simmering pot of soup. Move over, Ill show you how to fry onions properly.
In Emilys family, they made soup without fryinghealthier, fewer calories. Shed kept the tradition, partly because James had a bit of extra weight. She never nagged him about it, but she wasnt about to make it worse.
Beatrice, really, its fine. It tastes good like this.
Oh, young people Youve forgotten how to cook with all these takeaways, Beatrice grumbled but sat down.
It might have ended there, but Emilys phone rang. She stepped away to talk privately, and when she returned, onions were sizzling in the pan. Emily clenched her jaw, shooting Beatrice a sharp look.
Why did you do that? We like it plain.
Youve just never had it done right. Try ityoull change your mind, Beatrice declared, unshakably confident.
Emily bit her tongue. She *could* have poured the soup down the loo in protest, but that seemed extreme. Beatrice rarely visitedfor James sake, shed endure it.
But Beatrice meddled from afar, too.
At a family gathering, she announced:
Ive decided. My inheritance goes to whoever gives me a great-grandchild first. I want to see the family line continue before I go.
James laughed when he told Emily, who only smiled. As if theyd rearrange their lives for a whim
They had plans: first careers, then a home, *then* children. Margaret had once agreed, insisting there was no rush.
Now, they were on step twopaying off the mortgage. Another year, by Emilys calculations. Plenty of time for things to change. To Margaret, suddenly, it was only a year.
Sweetheart, she cooed one day, why wait? Youll get the inheritance *and* a baby!
Emily was stunned. Since when did anyone dictate her timeline? Even her own mother never dared.
Margaret, weve still got the mortgage.
Its just a year! By the time youre due, itll be sorted.
People thought that in 2019, too. No, we want security first.
Even if the mortgage falls through, theres Beatrices flat! And her cottage. And her jewellery boxfull of gold! A proper fortune.
We wont rush. If it aligns, great. If not well, it wasnt meant to be.
Suit yourselves. James has two cousins, you know. Theyll beat you to it
The calls became relentless. Emily tried patience, then blunt requests to drop itnothing worked.
Just humour her, James said once. Shell ease off.
Humouring her *did* seem easiertheyd do as they pleased anyway. But Margaret took silence as consent and doubled down. She flooded Emily with expert videos, showed off friends grandchildren, even brought scented candles for romance.
For Emilys birthday, Margaret gifted a pram. Youll need it soon! It was sturdy, expensivebut Emily hated feeling like a pawn in a game where her body and future were the stakes.
Every visit included some variation of:
Vickys marriage is on the rocks, and Katies still trying. Youve got the lead!
Like it was a race. Emily felt less like a person and more like a horse at the derby.
She gritted her teethfor family peace. She nearly snapped, almost told Margaret to have the baby herself, but thensalvation.
Katies pregnant, Margaret muttered, deflated.
Emily nearly cheered.
Still, no guarantees best hurry, Margaret added. Just in case.
Just in case never came. Katie had the baby, and Emily thought it was overuntil Beatrice called a family meeting.
Plenty of you to look after me now, she mused. Whoever does gets the inheritance.
Everyone froze. Katies husband choked on his pie. Margaret perked up.
But you promised us, Katie whispered.
Did I? Beatrice arched a brow. Think popping out a baby entitles you? What about *me*? I can barely walk to the shops these days
Emily stifled a laugh. So much for a kingdom for a grandchild.
After that, the pilgrimage began. Aunts, uncles, Margareteven Katie with the babyall flocked to Beatrice, desperate to prove their devotion.
Emily and James stayed out of it. They lived their lives, in their home, with work and quiet evenings. And that felt like winning. Because you could spend your life chasing carrotsor just live it your way.
