Mother-In-Law Monument: Irene Seymour—Legendary Woman, Owner of a Food Warehouse, Twice Jailed for D…

Mother-in-law

Margaret Evelyn was one of those women who seemed destined for greatnesseven if it was only on her own terms. Not a walk, a stride. Not a glance, a piercing look. Not words, pronouncements. Put her on a pedestal, and shed be a statuemore monument than mere woman.

She owned a food distribution company and had two stints behind bars for unruly behaviour and one for manslaughter (pure accident, mind you). She had three daughtersborn between court casesand, naturally, three sons-in-law.

After each wedding, Margaret gathered her new sons-in-law for a proper introduction to their rights, responsibilities, and a full rundown of consequences if they stepped out of line.

Its worth mentioning Margaret didnt fuss over trivialities; she valued her nerves. Her daughters were strictly told not to disturb their mother over petty matterssolve your own disputes. She might step in only if something or someone truly significant went missingor if a body needed hiding.

The sons-in-law appreciated her policy of non-involvement. None were daft enough to stir the pot, especially since manslaughter in a fit of rage was practically tattooed across her forehead.

But the youngest son-in-law, James, wasnt afraid of Margaret. He hardly saw her thanks to living with his family in the next town over. He considered himself free and independentup until the fateful evening he decided to join his bosss Saturday outing and tag along to the local spa with three other colleagues.

James told his wife hed be late at worksomething about a project needing to be finished. The more seasoned ones covered themselves more thoroughly: one brought fishing rods and a tent, claiming a lads fishing trip, even ordered a bucket of live trout for his wife. Another two toted laptops, swearing theyd be up all night playing World of Tanks. The boss didnt bother hiding his spa triphis wife wasnt fussed.

By midnight, the drinking and sweating grew dull, so they decided to liven things up with some company, pooling their cash for escorts. They could only afford twowho turned out to be rather frightful. The boss wanted to swap them for a prettier one, but the group decided more vodka was the better solution.

As the clock struck twelve, Margarets youngest daughter, wracked with worry, phoned her mum.

Quick, love, Im busy unloading a lorry, Margaret barked.

Mum, James hasnt come home from work, and his phones off. I cant reach any of his colleagues or his boss. Somethings happened, I know it!

Oh bloody hell! Dont worry, darling, Ill sort it.

With a few words to the warehouse lads, Margaret jumped in her car, making some calls en route. Half an hour in, she knew exactly which spa and whose company James was keeping. By the end of the hour, she rolled into town, and within fifteen minuteswith a terrified spa attendant trailing behind hershe crashed into the bored party. Things picked up real fast, and James earned himself a solid alibi: a mess of bruises and a broken tooth.

The boss tried to take charge, but

What do you think youre playing at, madam?! Who are you?! Im calling the police!

He had no clue who he was dealing with. Margaret dropped James, grabbed a knife in one hand and latched onto the bosss collar with the other.

Go on, mate, try it! Ill cut your tongue out! Im his mother-in-law!

Quiet, you lot! Margaret shot at the shrieking escorts, twirling the knife, striding over to James.

Whats your trouble, you sorry sod, got ants in your pants?

Mum! James pleaded, backing into a corner, Youre not serious!

Whats stopping me?

I never cheated on your daughter! Ask anyone here!

Margaret eyed the escorts.

No one did any cheating, the boss rasped, rubbing his throat.

ObviouslyI can see you picked dreadful girls! Why bother?

She poured a measure of vodka and handed it to James. Drink up. For the pain.

James clanked his broken tooth on the glass and swallowed.

Whats all this chaos? Out with it!

We just wanted a bit of downtime, said the boss. Turned out to be a dudboring, and the escorts were rubbish.

Margaret took a seat, sliced herself a chunk of ham.

No imagination, gentlemen, she said, chewing. What are those? She nodded at the fishing rods. Sex toy shop?

Thats my alibi, piped up the fisherman.

This too? She nudged the bucket of live fish.

Yep.

Well, you thought it through. Where would you lot be without me? Today, at least, youre lucky!

She tipped the fish into the poolthey shot off in all directions.

Here, Margaret gave a fishing rod to the fisherman and another to the gaming geek, Start fishing. Girlsget in the pool and earn your keep!

The escorts scrambled in.

Rules are simple: blokes fish with rods, girls with bare hands. Whoever catches one leaves here in one piece.

You, she pointed at the other gaming lad, keep score. The boss and I are laying bets. I reckon the one in the yellow swimsuit gets the first fish.

No chance! the boss jumped in. Im backing Mike. Hes nuts about fishing.

Oi, Yellow! called Margaret, You get a bonusdays payif you land the first fish.

What about me? grumbled the other escort.

Youll get a bonus if you catch more than Yellow.

Half an hour later, the spa attendant peeked in. The group was roaring, laughing, shouting The girls chased fish around with their hands, Mike was going strong with his bread-bait, the gaming lad was chasing an escort, while James and the other gamer tried scooping up fish with a big towel. The boss stood at the pools edge, egging everyone on.

Margaret messaged her daughter: strangers attacked your husband while he was heading home, beat him up, but hes alive, mostly okay, and now giving a statement to the police. Ill bring him back once were done. Love, Mum. Keeping her daughters peace of mind meant more than a broken tooth and a sleepless night at the spa. Still, she sent James a decent chunk of money for dental repairshe wasnt at fault, but let that be a lesson about future lads nights.