The Wise Mother-in-Law

The old matriarch, Margaret Whitcombe, tended to her potted ferns on the sill, each leaf glistening like tiny lanterns. Suddenly Eleanor, her daughter, burst into the room, a thirtysomething whirlwind in a tweed coat.

Mother, are you alone? she asked, breathless.

What about greeting me? Ask how Im holding together, Margaret replied, voice humming like a distant church bell. Hello, dear Mum, how do you feel? Im in a state of dismaywheres Arthur?

Im fine, according to my passport, you know the document is law to me. And Arthurdoes the world need a father figure? Hes off believing in the Almighty.

Where did he go?

Use your headwhere does a man go on Saturdays?

Ah to the chapel Margaret whispered, chuckling, I hope its the chapel and not a chat with a lady about God. And what gale has blown you to claim youre not blessed?

Mother, I cant take it any longerIm leaving Arthur!

And your Arthur, between us, isnt the worst husband in the kingdom! You think a queue will line up behind you? Oh, now theyll snatch you up, no mercy! Youre turning the house into a Shakespearian tragedy!

Why do you cling to him? Does he love you?

My hearts as sour as borscht when love is missing. I simply know my daughtermarry such a man and youll hate a golden motherinlaw! Youll drive anyone to the brink of madness!

Mother, as they say, the apple doesnt fall far from the tree, Eleanor smiled wryly.

And another proverb: every family has its black sheep, Margaret stuck out her tongue, winked, and pressed a hand to her aching chest. Stop tearing my heart, speak plainly!

Mother, judge for yourself. Were off to a birthday, I intend to give fifty pounds, and he says, Blimey!

Whats his fault? Why blind the rich with bright eyes? Take six crystal goblets modestly and be off.

Judgement, you call it! Who needs goblets now? Everyones got them already!

Im no judge, dearjust a cultural officer! I cant even recall how many years Ive sold tickets to the circus! Success, I say. If they dont need goblets, theyll sell them elsewhere, theres plenty of business!

Eleanor glared at her mother. A man in his forties stepped through the doorway.

Why are the doors open? Good day, Mother!

Whos come? Arthur, Im delightedwill you eat? I have a wondrous fish, fingersized, just for you. Had you not arrived, Id have sent Father to fetch it!

And me? Eleanor snapped, eyes narrowed. You didnt even offer me a bite!

My dear, Im sorrytheres plenty for you too. I was just thrilled to see Arthur! I brag to the neighbours about my golden soninlawbetter than any son! Listen, Arthur, come here: know I stand with you. Your wife has turned my head mad, but I say youre right! Will you dine in the kitchen, or shall I bring it here?

Thanks, Mother. We just had breakfast, Im not hungry, and thank you for the supportmy wife will have nothing to argue with if you stay firm!

You know, Arthur, shes not a terrible wife. She told me stories of you, praised you, and I loved hearing how good you are. I love you like a son, you know that. Eleanor drank water and choked on the words.

Arthur stepped forward, embracing his wife.

Didnt expect that, thought youd run off complaining

She ran off to consult, didnt want to speak. Fine, Ill reveal a secret: Dina wants to cook you something tasty, but I wont say what. We argued like two housewives! She mentioned the gift by accident, said you hadnt decided yet, so I said you were right.

Eleanor listened, eyes wide as moons, then smiled.

Mother, thank you. Ive memorised everything you said; if I forget, Ill call. We must be off.

No, until you fetch Arthur his fish, I wont let you leave!

Only for Arthur? Did you forget about me again?

Oh, my foolish headhes my number one, then you, Margaret said, shrugging with a guilty grin.

The soninlaw beamed. Margaret presented a fish wrapped in a striped towel, tucked it into a waterproof bag, and handed it over.

Here, eat well, and may it fill you up, else Ill be cross!

Thank you, Mother, youre a true friend. Lucks on my side with a motherinlaw! he said, taking his wifes arm. Shall we go, Clare?

Go on, Ill catch up, say goodbye to Mother.

Arthur left, and Eleanor leaned close to Margaret, whispering.

Mother, youre a great actress! The West End would weep for you! And how did you leave Father without a penny?

My dear child, I dont want you crying over both eyes, so Father and I will share the fish next time. Remember: for harmony at home, one must always be a little actress.