«Listen, Mum, most of my mates had their parents help with housing,» said the grown son. «I’m getting married sooncouldnt you do something about a flat? Dyou want us living like vagrants? You dont even have to buy one. We could move into the one-bedder you rent out. Just transfer it into my name yknow, to keep things fair!»
Margaret sat at the kitchen table, sorting through bills. Her husband, James, had left for work hours ago, but she still couldnt bring herself to tidy up. Her thoughts buzzed like disturbed wasps. Lately, peace at home had unraveledher youngest, Oliver, had been grating on her and Jamess nerves.
Shed dreamed of finally living for herself: redecorating the spare room, buying sleek new furniture for the lounge. Once Oliver married and moved out with his wife, the whole flat would be theirs. But life had other plans. Her eldest, Emily, had divorced her layabout husband, leaving her and the grandkidsLiam and Sophieneeding the largest room. The renovation savings vanished overnight.
Now, with Olivers wedding to Victoria just a month away, seven people crammed into the three-bed flat, tripping over each other daily.
Victoria strode in, flipping her immaculate ponytail. «Morning, Margaret. Are you having breakfast, or shall I eat alone? Dont want to intrude.» Her tone was breezy, dropping formalitiesno «Mrs. Whitmore,» just Margaret. The cheek of it. If Oliver werent besotted, Margaret wouldve never tolerated such rudeness.
«Hello, Victoria. Ive eaten,» Margaret replied stiffly. «Give me five minutes to clear up, then its all yours.»
Victoria poured herself water, then leaned against the counter. «Margaret, Ollie and I were discussing where wed live after the wedding. What dyou think?»
Margaret set the bills aside. Here it wasthe tug-of-war theyd been dancing around for months.
«Weve already talked. The spare rooms yours.»
Victorias face twisted into what Margaret had dubbed her «patronising sneer.» «Lets be honest. This is your homeyours and Jamess. Youve lived here thirty years. With Emily and two kids underfoot, its bursting. We dont want every move scrutinised.»
«And where dyou propose living? Youve no savings for a deposit,» Margaret snapped.
«Thats just it,» Victoria said, sitting. «We thought of your rentalthe one-bedder. Wed pay rent, of course or you could gift it to us. Properly.»
Margaret barked a laugh. «Ive two children, in case youve forgotten. Hand it to you and leave Emily with nothing?»
«Emily could stay here,» Victoria shrugged. «Three bedroomsyou and James in one, her and the kids in another. Plenty of space.»
«Emily needs her own life. And I wont be strong-armed into solving your housing crisis. Youre young, employedwork for it.»
«But that takes years!» Victoria flung her hands up. «Ollie just got promoted, but buying even a studio would take half a decade! We want to live now!»
«Then why waste thousands on a flashy wedding?» Margarets voice turned steely. «Limos, doves, a hundred guestswhen you cant afford a roof? A registry office and a savings account wouldve been wiser.»
«Thats your opinion,» Victoria hissed. «Its our day. I want the dress, the glamourto show everyone were not paupers. Cant you understand?»
«Oh, I understand vanity,» Margaret said. «I also know no home means no marriage. Smart couples secure bricks and mortar first.»
Victoria stormed out, silent for once.
That evening, Oliver parroted Victorias demandsthis time, weaponising their parents recent anniversary. «You and Dad blew £5,000 on that party! That couldve been our deposit!»
Margaret whirled on him. «Youre lecturing me? You couldnt even save for a decent suitwe bought your wedding one! Were covering seventy percent of this circus, including loans, and you dare whinge?»
«Dont shout,» Oliver snarled. «Im just claiming whats fair. Where am I supposed to take my wife? Some mouldy bedsit?»
«And why cant her parents help?» Margaret shot back. «That flats our safety net. Well keep renting it.»
«Youve had your turnnow give us ours!»
«Your sister needs it more. Two children, no husband»
Victoria barged in. «Emily can chase child support,» she declared. «Give us the one-bed, and well never ask for this place. Right, Ollie?»
The argument explodedgreed versus guilt, entitlement versus exhaustion.
A week before the wedding, peace briefly descended. Oliver and Victoria visited friends; Emily took the kids to her cousins. Margaret and James relaxed until the doorbell rang.
James answeredand in flounced Victorias mother, Diane, her shrill voice slicing the quiet. «Jim! Maggie home? Lets chat!»
Margaret intercepted her. Dianes three prior visits had confirmed she was every bit as insufferable as her daughter.
«To what do we owe this pleasure?» Margaret said icily.
Diane smirked. «Oh, Maggie, dont play dumb. My Vickys in pieces over that flat. Why hoard it when the kids need it?»
Margaret crossed her arms. «And why arent you buying it for them?»
Diane gasped. «On my wages? If I had a spare place, Id hand it over! Be reasonable, lovejust sign it over.»
James had heard enough. Steering Diane to the door, he growled, «Out. Tell your daughter the answers no. And Olivers to move outtonight.»
As Dianes curses faded, Margaret exhaled. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way: marriage built on demands, not effort, was doomed before it began.
