What kind of riffraff has been here? Call your family and have them come sort this mess out,” fumed Lily.

What kind of mess is this? Call your family and tell them to come sort it out, Lily fumed. I wont clean up after them. Ive had enough of washing sheets every time your mates stay over. Theyve made a habit of crashing at our cottage.

Listen, Mum called earlier, her husband, James, said over dinner. She and the relatives are planning a barbecue this weekend.

Good for her, Lily replied flatly. Let them go, but whats it to do with us? She had never warmed to her mother-in-law.

Well, they want to use our cottage, James explained, as if it were obvious. They dont have one, and Ive got to be at the garage on Saturday. I told them we couldnt go, so Mum asked for the keys.

Lily had no choice but to agree, though shed soon regret it. When they visited the cottage the following weekend, she froze at the sight. The place looked ransacked.

The berries had been picked, the floors were filthy, and a lone pot of stale soup sat on the stove. The kitchen curtain had vanished. Lily refused to process what had happened. James parents were in their sixties.

She confronted him.

What kind of mess is this? Call your family and tell them to come clean up, Lily snapped. Im not doing it. Im already fed up with washing sheets after your friends. Theyve turned our cottage into a free B&B.

Oh, dont make a fuss. Just toss it in the washer and hang it up.

Maybe next time *you* can do it! Are you happy with the state of our cottage?

But James didnt call anyone. Lily gave him the silent treatment before they eventually made up. Theyd only been married two years, for love, though lately, Lily wondered if shed rushed into it. They had no children yet.

Life plodded onwork, home, home, work. Weekends were for walks or picnics with friends. Everything changed when Lilys mother suddenly remarried and moved to another town. The family cottage passed to Lily.

Overnight, James relatives adored her. Suddenly, everyone wanted an invite to the cottage. Everyone knew barbecues tasted better in the open air!

Relatives materialised out of thin airsecond cousins, aunts, uncles, even James grandmotherall flocking to the countryside for riverside feasts. And, of course, James mates tagged along.

Everyone stayed overnight. James manned the grill like clockwork. Lily was sick of it, but she didnt want to sour relations. Still, something had to be done.

Now, weekends filled her with dread. When Lily and James married, his mother was already elderly. Shed had him late in life, alongside an older sister, Margaret, ten years his senior. His mother, raised in the countryside, treated everything as communal property.

She and Margaret helped themselves to creams, shampoos, spongeseven Lilys slippers. Then came another call: James mother wanted the keys again. This time, Margaret planned to host her boss for a weekend of relaxation and kebabs.

As usual, Lily wasnt consulted.

Well give Mum the keys, James said, ignoring Lilys reaction to his familys last visit.

Lily knew she had to actand James wasnt on her side. After weighing options, she rang her mother and complained.

Ill sort it, came the brisk reply.

Twenty minutes later, her mother called back: her aunt and uncle would spend time at the cottage. Dont worry, Aunt Eleanor will handle it.

Lily gasped. Shed always feared Aunt Eleanor. Childhood summers at her house had left permanent scars. Eleanor *knew* how to discipline.

That evening, Eleanor called.

Well, well, niece, keeping secrets? You shouldve called sooner. Now, how shall we handle thislightly, or full force? She chuckled darkly.

Lily shivered.

Did you tell them the cottage is in your name?

I dont think so. They all assume its mine.

Dont fret, dear. Well sort it perfectly.

On Sunday, James mother called in a rage.

You sold the cottage? Wheres the money? Why werent we told?

Turned out, Margaret, her boss, and James parents had arrived to find five strangers already grilling in the garden.

Who are you? James mother, Patricia, gasped.

And who, exactly, are *you*? A formidable woman stepped forward. *I* own this cottage. I dont know you. How did you get keys?

Patricias group faltered. Margaret stammered about family and borrowed keys. The womanclearly in chargefixed her with a glare, and Margaret fumbled. Patricia stayed silent.

In the end, the keys were confiscated, and they were politely asked to leaveor else face questions about trespassing.

Lily heard Patricia shrieking down the phone. James was baffled, speechless.

Pass the phone to your wife. Patricias voice trembled. The cottage isnt yours!

Did you ever ask? Lily kept her tone level. Or did you just assume everything was yours, including whats mine?

Do you realise Margaret invited her *boss*? There are layoffs comingshe was trying to save her job! If shes sacked, its on *you*!

How is that my fault? Aunt Eleanor owns the place. You didnt even ask *me*. Buy your own cottage if you want holidays. You managed before.

Im never going back, and neither will my family! James finally erupted.

They had their first real fight. James was furious. Margaret got sacked. Ill never forgive you, he spat. My family *loved* you, and you betrayed us.

Lily was sure Margarets sacking had nothing to do with her. Suddenly, she felt no pity for any of them. And she hadnt started this. Their marriage had hit a dead end.

Mum, I think Im leaving James.

Your choice, love. Youre grown. But where will you live? Ive rented my flat out. You could stay with Eleanor.

Thanks, but no, Lily said dryly. Ill rent my own place.

She filed for divorce, moved out, and never went back to the cottage.

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