— Why won’t you open the door? — I won’t! Guests must announce their arrival and not climb on cupboards, fridges or wardrobes. — You mean I won’t? That’s my mum! She’s come to see me! — Then greet her… just not in my house.

Why arent you opening the door?

Im not. I wont. If someones coming round they should ring first, and they shouldnt be rummaging through the cupboards, the fridge and the wardrobes.

You mean you wont? Shes my mum! Shes turned up at my place!

Then welcome her in just not at my house.

Thats why Poppy always got along with my mum.

You know, if I started listing all the ways my ex was better than you, wed both feel embarrassed.

Im not really sure about myself, Megan stammered, smoothing the kitchen table. If you and Poppy got on so well, why did you break up with her?

Victor turned away, scowling out the window.

You know the story

I do. So spare me the sob story about your Poppy, Megan snapped. Otherwise Ill be your next ex.

Megan was already thinking of drastic measures.

Shed met Victor about a year ago at a mutual friends house party. Shed also known that same Poppy, though they werent close. Poppy had brought Victor along, and a few months later she vanished from everyones radar.

One night, while Victor was a little tipsy, he blurted out that hed split up with her after catching her cheating. He even shed a tear.

Megan thought that was sweet a bloke who wasnt afraid to show his feelings, who valued love. Something clicked; she wanted to console him.

She realised that what she felt was more a motherly instinct than any romantic spark, but that was enough to get things rolling between them.

At first everything was lovely. Hed meet her after work, give her a lift home, send cute texts every day, and ask if shed bundled up warm enough. Megan felt swamped with his attention.

The first time she got a message from Poppy herself, she felt a pang of worry.

Hi, love. I heard youre seeing Victor. Its not really my business, but be careful with him. He and his mum are a tightknit duo.

Megan noted it but shrugged it off. Love can handle a few bumps. After all, just because things went pearshaped with one woman didnt mean theyd do the same with another.

Hey. I think well sort it out ourselves. Thanks for the warning, though, she replied.

She didnt want to keep the conversation going it felt a bit tacky to argue with Poppy.

Victor, however, didnt give a thought to her comfort.

When his mum, Margaret Parker, dropped by unannounced for the first time, Megan took it almost calmly. Maybe they both didnt realise how awkward it was. Margaret probably just missed her son and wanted to see who he was living with.

Megan told Victor to meet his mum, threw on a shirt, hastily tied her hair into a ponytail, and, halfasleep with bags under her eyes, trudged out to meet the potential motherinlaw. She was already halfinspecting the sideboard when Margaret swept in.

Ah, a lovely mess, Margaret said with a sweet smile. Youll be wearing mismatched socks soon enough. Sweetheart, lets have breakfast and Ill show you how to fold laundry so nothing gets wrinkled or lost.

And that, instead of a simple hello, meant Megan was completely flustered. A stranger rummaging through her drawers felt downright rude.

But snapping back with rudeness at the start of a relationship felt wrong, so she held her tongue.

Oh dear, you look like youve barely slept! You could do with cucumber eyemasks. Better still, get your kidneys checked. Ive got a friend who

Megan smiled, nodded, and pretended to be fascinated by Margarets medical anecdotes, while secretly wishing she could crawl back into bed it was only eight in the morning on a Sunday, and shed stayed up late the night before hoping to catch up on sleep.

She daydreamed.

Margarets visit stretched into the evening. Megan got a mountain of criticism and helpful tips on watering plants, cleaning the bathroom and polishing cutlery. She even managed to practice a bit. She felt squeezed like a lemon. Throughout it all, Victor never offered to help or hint to his mum that they needed a break.

Do your mum always pop up like this? Megan asked cautiously before bed.

She liked big families and closeknit ties, but a little breathing room would be nice.

Yeah, what of it? She just wants to be friendly, Victor shrugged. We used to live with Poppys mum; it was cosy. Now shes bored on her own.

I hope we dont end up three under one roof, Megan sighed.

Whats the problem? Youre not against my mum? Victor snapped. He and Poppy got on well, they were fine.

Megan kept quiet. Poppy was eight years younger and loved to schmooze. Of course they were friends.

Probably Margaret knew all her cousins names, diagnoses, could iron the sheets perfectly and bake pies from her motherinlaws recipe book. But Megan wasnt signing up for that brand of happiness. Shed lived enough to know the fewer outsiders meddle in a couples business, the better. Victor, though, had a different view.

My mum is very sociable. She can find common ground with anyone.

Thats lovely, but not everyones thrilled about it, Megan wanted to say, but held back.

Things went downhill from there. Margaret turned up again the next morning, this time launching a full fridge inspection.

Freerange eggs? I only make Victor quails eggs; theyre better for men, she declared, looking important. Your shelves arent exactly spotless Youre going to eat that, right? Megan, could you give them a wash?

Honestly, I dont eat straight off the shelves, Megan thought.

Ill clean them, Margaret Parker, she promised. We were hoping for a lazy Sunday. Its the weekend, after all

Victor, by the way, spent the day sleeping while Megan was forced to entertain his mum.

Exactly! A weekend is for cooking and cleaning, the lady declared. Grab a sponge and a cloth. Next weekend Ill teach you Victors favourite meat pie. Youll lick your fingers clean!

Megan froze, arms crossed over her chest. She wasnt about to obey a strangers instructions for a second day in a row.

Margaret Parker, could you maybe give me your number? So you can call before you pop over. I might have plans next weekend.

Call? I cant visit my own son? Margaret squinted, hurt.

Of course you can. Just remember your son now lives with a woman. Itd be nice if we all considered each others schedules.

We never had those problems with Poppy, Margaret muttered.

Well, my exs mum never called me at the crack of dawn, Megan cut in. She used to bring cherry pies. Very tasty. Want the recipe?

Margarets face changed, a wrinkle deepening on her forehead, eyes flashing with irritation.

Megan, think carefully. In our family, the night owl doesnt outsing the early bird.

She left, but the sting lingered. Megan didnt know what to do. Victor seemed deaf to her, his mum behaved as if she lived there too. And the ghost of Poppy hovered over everything.

Poppys cabbage rolls were better, her mum taught her, Victor blurted over dinner.

Then let her teach you, and youll have to cook for me too, Megan replied.

She suspected Margaret was trying to steer Victor, but didnt want to bring it up. She just wanted the topic out of her life.

The next month passed peacefully, no surprise visits, until the phone rang again. This time Megan decided she wasnt opening the door.

Was it wrong? Maybe. But was it right to keep letting strangers barge into her flat without warning after a polite hint?

Just five minutes later Victor stumbled into the hallway, bleary, annoyed, maybe a touch angry.

Why arent you opening the door?

I dont want to! I wont. Guests should ring first, and they shouldnt be poking around my cupboards, fridge and wardrobes.

You mean you wont? Shes my mum! She turned up at my place!

Then welcome her, just not in my house.

Victors outburst was loud enough that the neighbours probably heard. He scolded Megan for rejecting his mum, and therefore him. Margaret was shouting at the same time, demanding entry, ringing the phone.

In the end, Megan gave an ultimatum.

Enough! Either you send your mum packing and explain to her what guest means, or we break up!

Victor chose the latter.

Megan wasnt devastated. They hadnt even managed to say goodbye properly, maybe it was for the best. Living with someone whose past relationships and clingy mum came as a package she definitely didnt want.

A few months later, news arrived that Victor had a new flame. Their mutual friend from the same party spilled the beans.

We work together now. Shes moved in with him and his mum, but she wants out. She asked me to introduce you, the friend smiled.

Oh? Whys that?

If you believe Victors mum, youre just the perfect woman: pretty, strongwilled, and a good cook.

Are we talking about Victors mum and me again?

Apparently, the mums of the divorced like to make peace with anyone not living with Victor, the friend shrugged.

Since then Megan has taken others opinions with a grain of salt. She still has her own head on her shoulders and doesnt swallow everything she hears, but she also doesnt ignore the rumours.

Shes also become extra cautious around men who constantly namedrop exes and seem overly attached to their mothers.

With such macho vibes, lifes unlikely to work out a mum will always be number one. Maybe thats fine, as long as its within reasonable bounds. Agree with me?

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