Help for His Mum

Staff for His Mother
Alex, I get it, honestly, but I didnt sign up to be your mothers cook, hissed Emily, tossing a tin of peas into the shopping trolley. Her irritation was palpable. I want nothing more than to drop everything, get in the car and drive home. You promised me a quiet family evening for three, but here we are, cooking for an entire regiment of relatives while your mother lounges about! Is this even normal?
Alex hunched his shoulders, guilt written all over his face as he pretended to scrutinise the ingredients on a packet of imitation crab sticks. He looked like a naughty dog caught in the act.
Em, lower your voice, people are staring he mumbled, trying to gently take his wifes elbow, but she yanked her arm away. Mum didnt quite realise how much work it would be, thats all. It happens. Lets just get everything on the list, head back, and knock out these salads. Please, for my sakeand for the holiday.
“Didnt quite realise”what a lovely way to put it.
Emily gritted her teeth, fury simmering. She knew full well that Alexs mother, Margaret, had counted everything perfectly.
It all had started a week ago with a phone call. Margaret had rung to wish the young couple Happy New Year, and suddenly decided to invite them over.
My dears, she cooed, her voice so saccharine it threatened to give anyone listening a sugar rush Why dont you come to mine for Christmas? I miss you both so much! Just the three of us, old times, chats. It gets awfully lonely in these four walls.
Emily tensed immediately. Her gut said trouble was brewing. These “quiet family get-togethers” at Margarets always ended the same way: a grilling about grandchildren.
The first time Margaret brought it up, Emily and Alex werent even married.
Emily, have you thought about children yet? shed asked when they were alone.
Emily had been flustered.
Well I want kids, but not right now. Alex and I are just dating.
Oh, no need for a marriage certificate to have children, Margaret waved a dismissive hand But age The clocks ticking, youre not getting any younger. Neither am I. I might die before I see my grandchildren.
At first, Emily laughed it off, then started snapping back. Eventually, unconsciously, she simply avoided seeing Margaret to preserve her sanity.
So Emily and Margaret never really got to know each other. Emily would have kept it that way, but Alex intervened. Too gentle, too devoted, he couldnt say no to his mum.
Em, lets go, please, hed pleaded after the last call, giving her puppy eyes. Shes getting old. Shes genuinely lonely. Just this once, for me. Please.
Alex, you know I dont celebrate Christmas. Go if you want.
Look at it as a family dinner, not Christmas Alex pressed on Mum wants to build a bridge with you. Were family.
Emily resisted for ages, but eventually relented, hoping to get away with a polite smile and a cuppa with cake. How wrong she was
Things started to unravel the evening before. Margaret insisted they arrive by eight in the morning to “make the most of it”. Emily was absolutely against it; she wanted a lie-in on the weekend. With some effort, she secured a delay until ten.
When they finally crossed Margarets threshold, bleary-eyed, there was nothingno scent of meat, no sound of frying. The lady of the house greeted them in a tatty dressing gown and curlers.
Well, look who finally showed up! snapped Margaret as a greeting. Nearly half eleven! The guests are at the door, and nothings done. Should have gotten up earlier! Time to help out.
Emily froze, coat still in her hand.
What guests? she asked, confused.
Oh, just Linda and Victor passing through from Manchester, bit rude not to ask them in. Aunt Valerie from downstairs will pop up. My niece plans to drop by Couldn’t refuse them, could I? Now, stop dawdling and get in the kitchen, we’re short on time!
It dawned on Emily: they werent invited as guests. Theyd been called in as free labour.
The “celebration” quickly became a nightmare. Margaret transformed from gracious host into sergeant-major, brandishing a dishcloth like it was a baton and barking orders around the flat. She didnt lift a finger to help cook. Worse, shed botched the shopsome things missing, some forgotten. She handed Alex a list, dispatched the young couple to the shop.
Emily was ready to bolt, but endured for Alexs sake.
Soon, they returned to their “workstations.” Emily at the chopping board, Alex peeling potatoes. Instead of festive cheer, they got an endless list of chores. Five hours straight, sweating and slogging, no breaks.
Guests arrived around four, dressed to the nines with perfume and laughter. Emily and Alex, meanwhile, were exhausted and sticky, faces red, clothes stained, barely able to stand. Party? They just wanted to live.
Margaret, however, had freshened up, slipped into a presentable dress, and even added lipstick. She sat at the head of the table, receiving compliments.
Margaret, youre always such a hostess, so many beautiful dishes! praised a woman Emily didnt know, scooping up the salad Emily had prepared.
Oh, I do my best, Margaret responded modestly, smiling.
Margaret managed to raise her glass and deliver yet another lecture about “the ticking clock.” If Alex hadnt pressed his knee against Emilys to anchor her, shed have dumped the vinaigrette bowl right on the table.
Thats the last time, Emily said curtly to Alex as they drove home late in the evening I will not set foot in your mothers house again. You can go, you can help, work yourself into the ground if you want, but alone. Im done.
Alex didnt argue. Just nodded, silent.
Three months passed. Emilys back had stopped aching, but the bad taste lingered. So when Alex announced that his mum wanted them over in early March, she clenched her jaw.
Shes asked us for Mothers Day. Says itll just be the three of us. Maybe Aunt Linda will drop by for a minute, but shell only say hello and leave Alex said, seeing Emilys look, quickly added But Im not making you go, just telling you.
Alex braced for accusations and shouting about ruined celebrations. Instead, Emily gazed out the window thoughtfully, then
Fine. Tell your mum well come.
Em Seriously? You said
I remember. But if I refuse, shell start ringing and piling on the guilt every day, like last time. I want her to stop inviting us, stop moaning, stop begging for sympathy. Trust meif you dont want another session sweating over her hob.
Alex didnt ask questions, simply agreed
Mothers Day came, and, against Margarets expectations, started with no alarms, no fuss. Emily and Alex lazed in bed, watching silly TV and eating ice cream straight from the tub. No prepping, no makeup, no search for smart shirts.
By midday, Margaret was anxious, calling them.
Hello, Margaret? You wont believe it Weve only just woken up, Emily said, voice coated in phony regret We were out late with friends, total oversleep! Missed the alarm.
But Emily, Im waiting for you! Margaret was unimpressed Hurry up, the roast is going cold.
Were getting ready! An hour, tops, well be there! promised Emily, hanging up and turning back to the TV.
Alex glanced nervously at his wife but stayed quiet. Better to lounge in bed than sweat in Margarets kitchen.
At one, the phone rang again. Emily took her time before answering.
Were almost out the door, Margaret! Calling the taxi now, well be there in a flash she chirped, barely lifting her head.
An hour later, a new excuse.
Someone clipped a bus, the whole roads blocked, Emily reported, muting the telly Awful traffic jam. But should clear soon.
By half past three, Margaret lost patience.
Where ARE you?! she barked, voice stripped of earlier sweetness How long does it take? You could have walked by now!
Emily heard voices and laughter in the background. She narrowed her eyes.
Margaret, are you not alone then? she asked directly.
Alone, not alone, what does it matter? snapped Margaret Familys here to congratulate me. Cant chuck them out. Are you coming or not? Im struggling here, barely able to stand!
So shed called in a crowd, expecting the usual free help, and this time had to fend for herself. Dug her own grave.
Well were not coming, Emily said calmly.
What?!
I suddenly felt ill, mustve got carsick. Were turning back home.
There was silence, then Margaret erupted.
How dare you?! Ungrateful wretch! Im slaving over the stove since morningfor whom?! For whom?! she thundered Youre doing this deliberately! Tormenting me! What if I collapse now? Alex! Put Alex on!
Alex heard it all but just looked down. Emily hit the red button, ended the call, and switched off the phone.
Exactly as I thought, she said to Alex. Another crowd, and we were needed to serve them. Let your mum manage her guests herself since she called in a whole tribe.
That evening, they headed to Emilys parents.
The contrast was clear from the doorstep. There was bustle, but it was a joyful one. No sour faces, no one waiting for staff. Emilys mother struggled to fit a huge salad bowl onto the table, her father slicing bread for sandwiches.
Ah, the youngsters have arrived! her father beamed Alex, would you fetch some chairs from the bedroom for the lounge? Were a bit short.
Alex went to help. Emily stood beside her mum, laying out plates.
Yes, they helped. But it wasnt forcedit felt natural. Everyone pitched in, so everyone enjoyed themselves.
Sitting at the table, Emily glanced at her smiling mum and at Alex chatting cheerfully with her dad, felt the tension ebb away. Justice had finally been served. It might seem harsh, ending with a row, but Margaret would hardly dare try the same trick again. The bridges between Emily and her mother-in-law were burned, but that was so much better than being a servant at someone elses feast.