The Other Mother-in-Law…

**Diary Entry**

When I stepped into the flat, the first thing I saw were my mother-in-laws shoes right in the middle of the hallway. I knew then that any hope of a quiet evening was gone.

Fiona Victorovna emerged from the kitchen with the stern expression of a prosecutor in court.

*”Been with that foolish old woman again, have you?”* she demanded. *”While your home, husband, and child are left neglected. Lucky for them I dropped byGod knows what youd let happen otherwise.”*

*”Fiona Victorovna, Nicholas knew Id be late,”* I replied evenly. *”I made dinnerhe only had to heat it up. Hed have managed perfectly fine without your help.”*

After ten years married to Nicholas, Id grown used to my mother-in-laws constant dissatisfaction. Her words barely registered anymore, like a radio left on in the background all day.

But it hadnt always been this easy. Fiona was my second mother-in-law. My first, Olivia Semyonovna, had been a tactful woman. She never interfered in her sons family, never handed out unsolicited advice, never forced herself where she wasnt wanted.

Yet when help was needed, she was always there. I still remember how she stayed up nights with three-month-old Katie when the baby confused day for night, how shed take her granddaughter for walks and tell me:

*”Dont do a thing nowjust sleep. Alex will be home soonhe can sort dinner himself.”*

When Katie turned five, an accident at Alexs workplace left me a widow.

Even in her griefhaving lost her only sonOlivia Semyonovna didnt abandon me or my daughter. The first few months after Alexs death, we even lived together, leaning on each other.

I offered for her to stay, but she moved back to her own flat.

*”Youre only twenty-eight, love,”* she said. *”Youre youngyoull find happiness again. I wont get in your way.”*

Three years later, I married Nicholasbut I never let go of Olivia. My own parents lived too far to visit often, so she became like a mother to me. And Katie adored her.

Which was why Fiona Victorovnas behaviouracting as though she had the right to dictate how I ran my own homeshocked me so much.

After her first visit, I asked Nicholas to remind his mother that she was a guest heremeaning she needed to arrange visits in advance and behave accordingly.

When Fiona insisted she only wanted to help, I told her:

*”Im not eighteen anymore. Even then, when I left home for uni, I knew how to take care of myself. And after seven years of marriage, I dont need lessons in cooking or cleaning. Frankly, I could teach you a thing or two.”*

*”Maybe I should come round yours and run a white glove over your skirting boardssee how you like being inspected.”*

To his credit, Nicholas backed me up, stepping in whenever his mother overstepped.

Eventually, Fiona learned to keep her opinions on my housekeeping and parenting to herself. So when, a year after remarrying, I had my son, she mostly held her tonguethough I knew she was bursting with advice.

The trouble was, Fiona had a friend who loved boasting about how she *”put her younger sons wife in her place.”*

Naturally, Fiona wanted to share similar triumphsbut she had none. Her one consolation was griping about my visits to Olivia.

*”As if that old woman were family!”* shed complain. *”When Katie was little, sending her off to her *grandmas* in the summerfine. But now the girls at uni, and youre still running over there twice a week!”*

The past year, I *had* been visiting Olivia more often. Fiona called her *”old,”* though she was only seven years her senior. But grief ages you, and illness doesnt beautifyOlivia had weakened terribly, so I alternated between hospital visits and her home.

*”Wasting family money on an outsider,”* Fiona muttered.

*”Dont fret,”* I replied. *”Olivia sold her cottage when she fell illshes got funds for treatment. She wont be borrowing from you.”*

When Olivia took a turn for the worse, I hired a carer and took leave to spend half-days with her while Nicholas was at work and my son at school.

But even that only delayed the inevitablesoon, she was gone.

That was when Fionas interest in Olivias will became apparent.

*”She sold the cottage, but surely not all the moneys gone. And her pension was decentmust be savings. Then theres the two-bed flatbound to go to the heirs.”*

She didnt dare ask me directly, thoughinstead, she prodded Nicholas. His answer didnt please her.

*”The will? Naturally, its all going to Katieshes her own granddaughter.”*

*”And you mean to say you ran after that woman for *nothing*?”* Fiona gasped. *”Well! I can just picture your hysterics now!”*

*”Dont waste your concern,”* I told her. *”I knew Olivia was leaving everything to KatieI took her to the solicitor myself a year ago.”*

*”Then why bother with her at all?”* Fiona demanded. *”Let Katie look after her!”*

*”I could explain, but I doubt youd understand.”*

In due course, the will was settledKatie inherited the flat and remaining savings.

We agreed that while she studied and lived in student halls, the flat would be rented, with proceeds going into her account. Once she graduated, shed decide whether to return home, move to the city, or sell and buy elsewhere.

Hearing this, Fiona suggested: *”Why let strangers ruin the place? Let Kseniya stay there.”*

Thirty-five-year-old Kseniya, Fionas younger daughter, still lived with her. Pretty, educated, employedshe had the occasional romance, but marriage eluded her. Fiona fretted endlessly.

*”Why cant she catch a break? *You* managed to snag my Nicholaswidowed, with a child!”*

She believed a flat of her own might help Kseniya marry.

*”Well, its Katies for now,”* Fiona reasoned privately. *”But in three or four years, who knows? If Katie settles abroad, we might persuade her to *gift* it to Kseniya.”*

She kept these plans to herself.

Imagine her disappointment when Katie refused.

*”She wont pay proper rent,”* Katie said. *”And Ill need savingsmaybe a London mortgage after uni. So no, the flat stays rented.”*

*”Your Katies greedytakes after you,”* Fiona spat. *”Both of you only think of yourselves. If Kseniya had that flat, she mightve married by now!”*

*”Mum, youve got a three-bedder,”* Nicholas cut in. *”Sell itbuy yourself a one-bed and Kseniya a place.”*

*”Oh, very clever!”* she snapped. *”That flats *mine*none of your share in it! Why should I downsize in my old age? Ive lived there my whole life, and Im not moving!”*

*”Its not Nicholas being cleverits you,”* I said. *”Wont sacrifice your own flat for your daughter, but youll lay claim to someone elses?”*

So Kseniya stayed put. Katie rented the flat while studying, sold it later, and bought a new place in the city.

She did visit Londonfor a week. As they say, the grass is always greener

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