Listen, my fatherinlaw warned me sharply, weve taken you into the family, we treat you like a proper man, and you keep turning us down on the small things? Not right, soninlaw. You ought to respect your wifes parents. What will you do when you need our help?
—
Ethel was born when her mother was barely nineteen. Teen motherhood threw a wrench into the couples plans, so the little girl spent her early years in the care of her grandmother. While her parents studied, Grandmother Harper became Ethels first and most dependable anchor.
The wedding took place after the babys birth, but the household truly settled only when Ethel turned six. Thats when her parents brought her to a new town, moved to a modest terraced house in Manchester, and enrolled her in the local primary school.
From the outset the new family got off on the wrong foot. Her father, a respectable bank manager, showed no interest in either his wife or his daughter. He was constantly away, indulging in latenight drinks and affairs. Her mother, a nurse, disappeared into night shifts that ran until the early hours. Left to fend for herself, Ethel roamed the streets, ate irregularly, and often subsisted on cold, meagre meals. She developed chronic gastritis, and whenever the pain flared up her mother would ferry her from one clinic to another, turning the visits into a weapon of control.
There were no boundaries in that house, no right to a personal opinion. Any desire Ethel expressed was snuffed out immediately. If she tried to stand her ground, it erupted into a shouting match and a barrage of accusations. Her mother would openly declare, Ethel, youre an ungrateful little thing. Ive suffered enough because of you, God knows how much. Shed finish with, Get out of my sight!
The tension peaked over a seemingly trivial dispute when teenage Ethel refused to join a family photo session with guests. Her mother erupted:
Shameless! How dare you embarrass me in front of people? Change your clothes at once, now!
Mom, I dont want to be photographed, Ethel insisted, Im exhausted, I need to sleep early.
Her mother lunged at her, fists raised. Her father intervened, pulling them apart, then told Ethel bluntly that theyd have liked another child but, for some reason, couldnt.
If I could, Id throw you out of this house this very second, he barked, Its a pity we cant have any other children. If there were a chance, Id hand you over to an orphanage!
—
Ethel was never allowed to say no. Her mother increasingly berated her, calling her useless and ungrateful. It wasnt until Ethel turned sixteen and a foster daughter arrived that her mothers tone softened a little a relief that only added fresh stress.
After all, youre our golden girl, her mother sighed, watching the foster child throw a plate in a tantrum over not getting a computer like everyone else. We never had any trouble with you. Weve spoken with your father, agreed to take you in Now we wont have any more troubles
No one at school knew that Ethel was being beaten and locked in cupboards. She was despised, bullied by the whole lot, yet she never complained she saw no point in crying for help when nobody would stand up for her.
She chose to study law, exactly what her parents insisted on, hoping to earn their approval. It didnt work; they turned on her again, accusing her of having no direction.
Why bother with law? her father scoffed, Youll end up on the factory floor, youre talentless. At least they could give you a job there.
Ethel swallowed the insults, dreaming of shedding the shackles her parents had tied around her. She was exhausted.
—
When Ethel married, her parents staged a prewedding row, accusing her of selfishness, of ruining their plans, and of borrowing money from them. She had indeed taken a modest loan to contribute to the wedding, but her mother never missed a chance to load Ethel with her own worries.
You understand how much weve spent on you? her mother demanded when Ethel tried to decline another request for assistance.
I get it, Mum, but David and I are trying to stand on our own feet, Ethel replied carefully, We dont have time for all this.
What other responsibilities? Yours are ours too! Your husband should see that, her father interjected, All we ask is a simple errand pick up some groceries, drop them off at the venue, watch the younger cousin while were at the reception.
Dad, David works late and has an important meeting tomorrow, Ethel tried to argue.
A meeting? More important than family? Have you forgotten how hard we worked raising you? Your illnesses, your terrible temperament! her mother raised her voice.
My illnesses appeared while you were both busy with work and other things. I dont recall you ever really raising me, Ethel said bitterly.
Ungrateful! You dont know what it means to be a parent! If it werent for us youd be on the streets, living off your grannys scraps! her mother shouted.
Mum, Im grateful, but Im not obliged to devote my whole life to you. All we ask is a little personal space, Ethel sighed.
Personal space? Youve just married and already think of yourselves! We gave you a home, we raised you! her father pressed, Now you dare to turn us down?
Mum, you have nothing to do with our flat, Ethel retorted, hinting that she and David had bought it on a mortgage they were now repaying together.
If youre so independent, why cant you find a decent job? Why are you still tangled in contracts? And why havent you repaid us for your education? her father shot a fresh blow, We paid for it. Wheres your gratitude?
Ethel finally turned to her father:
Dad, could you at least stop enabling her?
Ethel, dont start, her father said calmly but firmly, Mums right. We ask only a little. Your husband should know his place. Nothing will happen to him if he drives us. Were your family.
David isnt a taxi driver! Ethels voice trembled with hysteria.
Have you lost your mind? How dare you raise your voice at your father? her mother snapped, stepping forward.
David, who had been silent until then, could take no more:
Enough! Stop shouting at her! I married your daughter, Ive taken responsibility for her. What do you think I promised, to be your servant?
What makes you think you can tell us what to do? his father barked, You took my daughter, we took you into the family, and out of gratitude you ought to help us!
I love Ethel and want her happy. Since the wedding youve given us no peace, David said firmly, Either we live our own lives, or shell have no contact with you at all.
Ethel glanced between her husband and her parents.
You cant betray us, youll be leaving us! her mother hissed, Youre still our daughter weve done so much for you
I remember, Mum, Ethel whispered, clenching her fists, I remember every insult, every blow. I remember you saying you wanted another child.
Ungrateful! her mothers voice rang out.
No, Mum. Im an adult with a family of my own. Davids right: well live our own lives. You can stop calling us until you learn to respect our choices.
The first days of that socalled freedom were tense. The parents called, threatened, tried to blackmail with silence, but Ethel and David held fast. Ethel also resolved to repay the debt her parents claimed she owed for her education. They scrimped, saved every penny, determined to clear the halfmillionpound bill her parents had handed them, even though the actual tuition was half that amount.
The hardest part was weathering Ethels breakdowns. Defending her right to a life of her own forced her to confront years of psychological pressure, but David was her rock.
Well get through this, love. Well make it, he reassured her.
In the end they did. It took a year to settle with Ethels parents, who had inflated the amount to £500,000. Once the money was paid, Ethel cut off contact. Her parents showed no haste to repair the relationship they were still bitter over their ungrateful daughter.
