He Will Live Among Us…

The doorbell rang sharply, an unwelcome intrusion. Margaret wiped her hands on her apron and moved to answer it. Her daughter stood on the threshold beside a young man, both waiting expectantly. Margaret let them inside.

“Hi, Mum,” her daughter said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “This is Dave, hes going to live with us.”
“Pleasure,” the young man muttered, barely glancing up.
“And this is my mum, Auntie Margaret.”
“Margaret Hart,” she corrected.
“Mum, what’s for dinner?”
“Mashed peas and bangers.”
“I dont eat mashed peas,” Dave said flatly, kicking off his trainers and striding into the living room.
“But Mum, Dave hates peas,” her daughter said, wide-eyed.

Dave flopped onto the sofa, tossing his rucksack on the floor.
“Thats my spot,” Margaret said.
“Dave, come on, Ill show you where well stay,” called her daughter, Emily.
“I like it right here,” he grumbled, reluctantly standing.
“Mum, think of something else for Dave to eat.”
“Dunno. Theres half a pack of sausages left,” Margaret shrugged.
“Thatll do, with mustard and ketchup and some bread,” he declared.
“Fine,” Margaret sighed, turning toward the kitchen. “First it was stray kittens, now this. And Im supposed to feed him too?”

She served herself a plate of peas, piled two sausages beside them, and began eating with quiet determination.
“Mum, why are you eating alone?” Emily asked, appearing in the doorway.
“Because I just got home from work, and Im hungry,” Margaret chewed. “If you want food, get it yourself. And another thingwhys Dave moving in?”
“What dyou mean? Hes my husband.”

“Your what?!”
“Yeah. Your daughters grown up. I decide if I marry or notIm nineteen, you know.”
“You didnt even invite me.”
“We just did a registry office thing. No fuss. Now were married, were moving in together,” Emily said, watching her mother eat.
“Congratulations. But why no proper wedding?”
“If youve got money for one, hand it over. Well put it to good use.”
“Right,” Margaret said, still chewing. “But why *here*?”
“Four people in a one-bed flat? No chance.”
“So renting wasnt an option?”
“Why rent when Ive got a room here?” Emily blinked.
“Fair enough.”
“Can you make us something?”
“Emily, the peas are on the stove, sausages in the pan. Not enough? Theres half a pack in the fridge. Help yourselves.”

“Mum, you dont get ityouve got a SON-IN-LAW now,” Emily pressed.
“And? Want a round of applause? I just got home from work. Im knackered. No confetti, no fuss. Youve got handssort yourselves out.”
“Thats why youre still single!” Emily shot her a glare, stormed off, and slammed her bedroom door.

Margaret finished eating, washed up, wiped the table, then changed into her gym gear. She spent most evenings lifting weights or swimming.

By ten, she returned, expecting teainstead, the kitchen was a warzone. The pan lid was missing, the peas dried and cracked. Sausage wrappers littered the table beside a hardened crust of bread. The frying pan was scorched, gouged with fork marks. Plates sat unwashed in the sink, and a sticky puddle glistened on the floor. The flat reeked of cigarettes.

“New. Emily never pulled this before.”

Margaret pushed open her daughters door. The pair were drinking wine, smoke curling above them.
“Emily, clean the kitchen. And tomorrow, youre buying a new pan,” Margaret said, leaving the door ajar.

Emily leapt up, chasing her.
“Why should we? Where am I supposed to get the money? Im a student!”
“Rules dont change: you eat, you clean. You break it, you replace it. That pan wasnt cheap.”
“You dont want us here.”
“No,” Margaret said calmly.

She wasnt in the mood for a rowEmily had never been like this before.
“But Ive got rights to this place!”
“No. The flats mine. Bought with my money. Youre just on the lease. If you stay, you follow the rules.”
“Ive lived by your rules my whole life. Im married nowyou dont dictate to me,” Emily spat. “Besides, youve had your turn. Hand the flat over.”
“You can have the hallway bench. Married? Didnt ask my opinion. Stay alone, or take your husband elsewhere. Hes not living here.”

“Keep your flat. Dave, were leaving!” Emily started shoving clothes into a bag.

Minutes later, the new son-in-law lurched into Margarets room.
“Oi, Mum, dont stress. Well keep it down, yeah?” He swayed, breath sour with alcohol. “No need to kick off.”
“What Mum? Your parents are alivego bother them. And take your wife.”
“Right, Ill” He raised a fist, jutting it near her face.
“Go on, then.”

Margaret gripped his wrist, nails digging in.
“Owmental cow, let go!”

“Mum, stop!” Emily screamed, clawing at her.

Margaret shoved her aside, kneed Dave between the legs, then slammed an elbow into his throat.
“Ill press charges!” he wheezed.
“Wait, Ill call the policesave you the trouble.”

The pair scrambled out of the tidy two-bed flat.
“Youre not my mum anymore!” Emily shrieked. “Youll never see your grandkids!”
“What a tragedy,” Margaret deadpanned. “Finally, peace.”

She inspected her handstwo nails were chipped.
“Nothing but hassle,” she muttered.

After they left, she scrubbed the kitchen, binned the ruined pan, and changed the locks.

Three months later, she spotted Emily outside her work. Her daughter was gaunt, hollow-cheeked.
“Mum whats for dinner?” she asked.
“Dunno. Havent decided,” Margaret shrugged. “Fancy something?”
“Roast chicken and rice,” Emily swallowed. “And a bit of coleslaw.”
“Right then. Lets get chicken,” Margaret said. “Youre making the coleslaw.”