A Daughter-in-Law Walks In to Find Her Mother-in-Law in Her Own Kitchen and…

Sarah heard sounds in the kitchen: the faint clatter of crockery and the rustling of plastic bags. She had just settled Emily in for her afternoon nap and planned to enjoy a bit of peace in her Nottingham flat. But instead, she saw Helen Thompson standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding Sarahs African violet with both hands as if it were something suspicious, to be inspected before discarding.

Helen, what are you doing?

Sarah came in wearing a T-shirt and her comfy lounge trousers, hoping for half an hour of quiet. But the sight before her stifled any hope of rest.

Im just tidying up, Helen replied without turning, inspecting the plant. You keep putting this in the wrong place, you know. It blocks the light here, Sarah.

Its not in the way, Sarah said, keeping her voice calm. Thats where I put it on purpose.

Well, its the east side, isnt it? Violets hate direct morning sun.

Shes fine. Looksee her buds?

Helen shook her head. Thats only because shes young. Shell shrivel up. Best put her by the fridge, on the little shelf there?

Sarah walked across and took the pot from Helenno snatching, just quietly reclaiming it and putting it back on the sill.

Helen, please dont move my things about.

Helen turned at last, her expression more surprised than offendedas if being confronted with a rule she considered obviously mistaken.

Im not fussing with your things, Sarah. Im trying to help.

I know you want to help. But this is my kitchen. I put my things where I want them.

Your kitchen. Helen raised her eyebrows and turned to the sink. Alright, if you say so.

She picked up a sponge and began scrubbing the tap, extra thoroughly, shoulders hunched in her yellow cardigan. Sarah watched, thinking: Why come round on a Wednesday? No call, no warning. One turn of the key, the door swings open, and suddenly youre heresurrounded by my things, rearranging, setting rules anew.

She kept these thoughts to herself.

When will Emily wake up? Helen asked, still not looking at her.

Maybe in an hour and a half.

Ill leave you to rest then; Ill just have a quick tidy up here.

Sarah opened her mouth, closed it, and said quietly, Helen, its alright, everythings already tidy.

Yes, I see. Just the tap needed a clean, Helen replied after a pause.

Sarah poured herself water, standing by the window, staring at her violet. One bud was nearly openpurple, edged with white. Emily poked it every day, saying, Flowder! Sarah would correct, Flower. Emily would giggle and say Flowder again.

She put her glass down and left the kitchen, leaving the door openanything else would be a statement, and Sarah was not in the mood for a row. She just wanted Helen to realise, on her own, that this was not a good time. But Helen did not seem to notice, or perhaps she simply didnt care.

Twenty minutes later, a rich, familiar aroma drifted from the kitchen. Sarah finally went to check.

A pot was on the stove; something was simmering.

Whats this?

Made some chicken soupwith vermicelli. Jackll be ravenous when he gets in, and your fridge was looking a bit sad, love.

I had buckwheat and yesterdays burgers in there.

They were left from yesterday. I binned them, Helen said simply.

Sarah paused. You threw out my burgers.

They were leftovers, Sarah. Best not risk it; youd get food poisoning.

They were absolutely fine, Helen. I was going to use them today. I made them.

Oh never mind, darling, burgers cost pennies. Ive made soup, look

Sarah looked at the pot. It did smell goodand that was the worst thing. That the soup, made in her pan from Helens own groceries, actually smelled inviting. And now Sarah didnt know what to do with any of it.

Thank you, she said as evenly as possible. But please, dont throw my food away again.

I only meant to help.

I know. But please, dont.

Helen stirred her soup and didnt reply.

Sarah sat at the table, watching Helen clean up, put the spoon in the sink, wipe the counter. She moved around the kitchen as though it were her ownopening every cupboard first time, never hesitating. Which meant shed been here before, probably while Sarah was visiting her own mum, or napping, or walking with Emily. Just letting herself in.

Helen, Sarah asked, how often do you come by?

Oh, just when its needed.

And when is that, exactly?

Helen turned, her face open, a little wounded. Sarah, what do you mean? Im not a strangerJacks my son.

Yes. And its his flat. And mine.

So Im not allowed in?

Yes, you areif you let us know, if were expecting you.

A long pause. Helen watched her, with that look Sarah knew meant this would be tomorrows phone call to Jack: a mix of surprise and quiet grievance.

Alright, Helen said at last. If you say so.

She left the soup simmering and departed an hour later, still before Emily woke. She kissed her granddaughter through the bedroom door, whispering Shh, shes asleep, and took her keys with her.

That evening, Jack came home, immediately catching a whiff of chicken soup.

Mums been here?

She has.

Smells good.

Jack

He shrugged off his jacket in the hallway. What?

She came by without calling, threw out the burgers I made yesterday, moved things about, went through the flat

She just wanted to help, love.

I know you keep saying that. But I want you to tell hershe has to ring first.

He tore off a chunk of bread. Alright, Ill talk to her.

You always say that.

Then Ill say it again.

Sarah served the soup. He tasted itthen realised perhaps hed said the wrong thing.

She still cooks well, he murmured, and Sarah ate in silence.

A few days later, Helen returned. This time it was around two, on Friday. Emily was waking from her nap, calling from her cot as Sarah crossed the hallway. Before she could reach her, Helen was already at the bedroom door.

There you are, my darling! Grannys here!

Emily stopped cryingshe always did, when Helen arrived. Sarah wasnt sure whether to be relieved or frustrated.

Helen was already leaning into the cot, arms outstretched. Emily reached back eagerly.

Hello, said Sarah.

Hello, love. Helen gathered Emily, hugging and spinning her round. Missed you. Have you called?

No. I was just here.

Ill be quiet. I wont interrupt.

They moved into the kitchen. Sarah brewed tea. Emily sat on Grannys lap, munching a slice of bread and butterHelen had brought her own, along with a mysterious carrier bag.

I brought some sponge cake, Helen said. From Marks & Spencer. Emily loves a treat.

She doesnt eat cake.

What do you mean?

Shes only two and a half. I havent introduced her to sweets properly yetshe had a reaction to chocolate icing last time.

But this is just vanilla. No chocolate at all.

Helen, please

Just a little, Sarah. One bit wont hurt her. Jack never came to any harm.

Jack and Emily are different children. Emilys had a reaction already.

You worry too much.

Perhaps I do. But shes my child, and Im asking you not to give her cake.

Emily reached for the bag. Helen quietly slipped it beneath the table.

Alright, no cake.

Thank you.

They drank tea. Emily played on the floor with a saucepan and a wooden spoon Helen had found and handed her, unasked. Sarah noticed, but said nothingthe spoon was clean.

Hows Jack at work? Helen asked.

Tired.

He always is. Always puts so much in, then collapses. He needs a holiday. Going anywhere this summer?

Dont know yet.

Ill take Emily for you. The cottage is perfectfresh air, a little veg patch.

Ill think about it.

Nothing to think aboutlets decide on July.

Helen, I said Ill think about it.

Helen held her gaze; Sarah stared back, cup cradled in both hands. After a moment, Helen turned to Emily.

Come here, darling.

Emily tottered over. Helen picked her up, nuzzled her hair.

My good girl.

Sarah washed mugs and looked out at the violet. The second bud was nearly open.

Helen produced the cake when Sarah popped into the hall to answer her phone. Returning, she found Emily clutching a handful of sponge, Granny watching with faint triumph.

Helen.

Just a sliver, Sarah. She reached out herself.

She reaches for everything shes given, shes little.

Exactlyshes a child. No need to be scared of everything.

Sarah gently took the cake from Emily and offered her a slice of apple instead. Emily accepted it without fuss and went back to the saucepan.

I asked you not to give her cake, Sarah said, quietly.

She reached herself, Helen replied. I told you.

Then next time, say no. Youre an adult, you can say no to a child.

Helen stood, grabbing her handbag.

Ill be off, then.

Alright.

Youre cross.

No. Im asking you to follow the rules of our home.

Your rules. Helen zipped her bag. Understood.

She left. Emily waved, Bye-bye! Helens voice floated back from the hallway: Bye, darling. The door closed.

Sarah put the cake in a bag and propped it by the door to hand back.

That evening, Jack said once more, She just loves Emily.

I know.

So whats the issue?

Sarah was quiet for a long time, then said, Jack, do you realise she comes whenever she pleases, does what she likes, and never thinks to ask me? This is our home. I shouldnt have to fight for the right to decide what Emily eats.

Jack sat down, phone in hand, then put it aside.

She helped us with the flat, Sarah.

There it was.

Sarah folded her hands in her lap.

I remember.

Wed still be renting otherwise.

I remember, Jack.

So maybe we should

What? Tolerate it? Let her turn up without calling, do whatever she wants because she gave us money?

Jack didnt reply.

Thats not how it works, Sarah said. Help is help. Its not a pass to walk in whenever you like.

He picked up his phone.

Ill have a word.

Youve said that twice before.

Ill do it properly, Sarah. What do you want from me?

She wanted him to just understand. No explanations, no requestsjust understand. But she could see that either he didnt, or it was easier for him not to, because understanding meant hed have to do something. And doing something would mean a row with his mother.

Nothing, she said, quietly. Goodnight.

She went to check on Emily.

Her daughter slept sprawled on her back, face buried in the pillow. Sarah gently shifted her to her side. Emily murmured, still sleeping. Sarah stood in the dim room, listening to her breathing.

A week passed. And another.

Helen rang on Saturday morning.

Sarah, I was hoping to pop over Sunday. How are you?

Were busy on Sunday.

Busy? Jack says youll be home.

We will be, but weve plans. Next time, maybe?

Pause.

I bought Emily a toy. Wanted to drop it off.

You can give it to Jack.

Another pause, longer.

Right. Okay then.

That Sunday evening, Jack said:

Mums annoyed.

I know.

She says youre not letting her come round.

Im not letting her come unannounced. Its not the same thing.

To her, its the same.

Sarah folded clean laundry on the bed. She shook out a sheet and laid it flat.

Jack, whos side are you on?

Im not taking sides. I just want you both to

No. Its not about getting along. Its about who makes the decisions for this family. Does she decide, or do we?

He sat at the foot of the bed, watching her fold.

We do.

Good. Then talk to her properlyreally properly. Explain she must phone, she must respect my rules for Emily, and she needs to give you back the keys.

He looked up.

Keys?

Yes, keys.

Sarah, thats

What?

He stood, pacing to the window before turning.

Shell be so hurt.

And Im not, by her visits?

Its not the same.

Why not?

Silence.

Because shes my mum, he said finally.

And Im Emilys mother. And your wife. Im not saying she cant visitI want her to call first, to ask, to respect what I say. Thats not too much.

He said nothing. Just walked to the kitchen. She heard the kettle clicking on.

Sarah picked up Emilys tiny cardigan from the basket, a duck sewn on, button loose. She set it aside to mend.

Two weeks went by. Helen called Jack to say shed be busy Friday with her nephews birthday but would come Saturday, if that was alright. Jack told his mum, Of course, but mentioned nothing to Sarah.

On Saturday, Sarah answered the door to Helen arriving with heavy bags.

Oh, hello. Jack said youd be here.

Yes, here I am.

Come in.

She helped Helen carry in the groceries: potatoes in a net, onions, a jar of homemade pickles, a joint of pork, apples, a bag of flour.

I thought Id do some pastiesJack loves them with cabbage.

Helen, can I just

Sarah, do you have a rolling pin? I didnt bring mine.

I do, but

Perfect. Ill get the dough going while Emilys asleep.

Helen was already washing her hands, opening cupboards, flour in handshe clearly knew exactly where everything was kept.

Sarah left the kitchen and found Jack in the bedroom, reading the news.

You told her to come today?

He looked up.

Yeah. She wanted

But you didnt ask me.

Sarah, shes my mum.

This is our home. You could have asked.

Youd have said no.

And that was the sum of it: youd have said no, so I didnt ask.

She stood silently, the sound of pans and onions from the kitchen floating through the wall.

Next time you ask, she said quietly. Every time. Understood?

He mumbled something, but shed already gone to Emily, who was waking.

Helen made the pastiesgolden, crisp, with cabbage, as promised. Emily devoured one and asked for more. Helen glowed with pride. Sarah ate quietly, thinking of burgers, sponge cake, and violets on the windowsill.

When Helen left, she pointed at a corner in the hall.

You should put a little shoe rack here. Much neater than piling them up.

Well think about it, Jack offered.

I saw wooden ones at the market. Shall I get one?

No, thank you, Helen. Well sort it if we want, Sarah insisted.

Helen looked at her, then at Jack, put on her boots, and left.

As the door closed, Jack sighed. Why like that?

Like what?

She only wanted to help.

She wanted to put up a shelf in my house without asking. Theres a difference.

Jack sloped off to eat the last pasty.

Mid-April was chilly. Sarah took Emily for a walk each morning, then returned to nap time and choreswashing, ironing, cooking. Sometimes shed read, if Emilys nap was long. Life felt small, but it was all hers.

One day, as Sarah sat with her book by the window while Emily slept, she heard the telltale click of the lock.

She put her book down.

Helen bustled in, pausing on seeing Sarah. Oh, youre in. Good. Ill just be a tick.

Helen.

One minute, Sarah. I brought some new curtainsgorgeous, really. Yours have faded.

She began unrolling them right in the hallway.

Stop, please, said Sarah.

Helen looked up, confused.

What?

I dont want new curtains. I like mine.

Theyre just plain, darlingthese are beautiful, and half price at John Lewis.

Helen. Sarah stood up. Ive asked beforeplease, call before you come. Did you?

No, but

Ive told you this before. You must ring. And I dont want new curtains. Please, take these home with you.

Helen gathered the fabric back up, watching Sarah for a long moment.

Fine. Youre the lady of the house.

Her tone made lady of the house mean something elsestubborn, perhaps ungrateful.

Yes, Sarah said. I am.

Helen left without even a cup of teathe first time in months she hadnt lingered or left something simmering on the stove.

That evening, Jack said:

Mum called. Shes upset.

I know.

She said you were rude.

I wasnt. I just stuck to what wed agreed.

She only wanted to help.

Jack. Sarah met his eyes. Tell me truthfully. Do you think that wanting to help gives someone the right to do anything they like in someone elses house?

He fell quiet.

Because if you do, we see things differently. And if notstand with me, not her. Im your wife.

He took her hand, squeezed it.

Ill talk to her.

Youve said that five times, Jack.

Sarah

Five times.

He withdrew his hand and left the room.

Sarah washed dishes, wiped the counters, moved her violet to the sunniest spot. The second bud had opened, a third nearly ready.

The end of April. Jacks thirtieth birthday was coming. Sarah looked forward to it for once, finding a recipe for honey layer cake with sour cream and caramel. She bought all the ingredients, baked the layers after Emilys bedtime, assembled it at night, and set it to chill.

Just a few friends were coming: Jacks mates with their wives, his sister Natalie and her husband; Helen, of course.

Sarah laid out the food: potato salad, baked fish, pickled cucumbers, a little cheese board. It was all carefully arranged.

Helen arrived firstfor once, shed called ahead, saying just, Id like to help. Sarah replied, Its all donejust come along.

Helen made a beeline for the kitchen.

Oh, this looks nicefish?

Yessalmon.

Jack prefers cod.

Were having salmon tonight.

Oh. Well. Helen adjusted a fork, only slightly. You made the cake?

I dida honey cake.

He doesnt really like honey cake. He loves Napoleon.

Hes never told me that.

Well, I know what he likes.

Sarah fetched the bread. She said nothing.

Id have made Napoleon. Wouldve been plenty of time.

Ive already made the cake, Helen. It will do.

Well see, then.

The guests arrived, chattering filled the flat and Emily ran between adults, collecting biscuits from every guest. Sarah kept a careful watch over how much anyone slipped her.

Jack was happy, laughing and chatting, a little tipsy on wine. Sarah watched him and thought: here he is, alive and cheerful, caught as usual between me and her, neither of us able to really fix it.

Helen sat across from Sarah at the table.

When the cake was served, already sliced, Helen addressed Jacks friends wife diagonally.

Honey cake. Sarah made it.

Oh, it smells wonderful, the friends wife said.

Well, honey cake is quite particular. Not everyone likes it. Its a bit heavy.

Someone reached for a piece. Sarah stood back as the conversation washed past her.

Helen added, half to the room, Jacks favourite is Napoleon, but never mind; itll do.

For a brief moment, there was quiet, enough to be noticed. Then someone said, Its lovely, and the chat flowed on.

But Sarah heard it.

She cleared plates to the kitchen and stood there a minutebreathing. Then she returned.

By the end of the evening, with Emily nodding off, Sarah carried her to bed. Helen followed.

Ill put her down tonight, Helen offered.

Ill do it.

Youre tired, let me.

Ill do it, Helen.

Helen stopped. From the living room, chatter and laughter drifted across.

You always do this, said Helen, barely louder than a whisper. I want to help, and you always refuse. It stings.

Sarah turned. Emily half asleep on her shoulder.

Helen, I want to put my daughter to bed myself. Thats not offence. Thats my right.

She settled Emily, stroked her hair, and returned. The guests were finishing up, Natalie giving Jack a goodbye hug, friends putting on coats.

Helen was in the kitchen, scooping leftover potato salad into a container.

What are you doing?

Taking leftovers. Theyll only go off.

They wont. Well eat them tomorrow.

Theres half a bowl here, Sarah.

Ill sort it, Helen.

But Ive already

Please, put the container down.

Helen looked at her with careful attention. She stopped, holding the container.

Whats wrong with you?

Nothing. Please, thats enough.

Helen put it on the table. For a long pause, she simply looked at Sarah.

Im not your enemy, Sarah.

I know.

I love Jack. I love Emily.

I know. But I have my own family, Helen. Jack has a wife and a daughter now. We need our own space.

What space? What do you mean?

I mean this. Sarah steadied herself. Voices still drifted in from the lounge, but only she and Helen were in the kitchen. You come in without calling. You do what you want in my housethrow away my food, rearrange my things, bring curtains without asking, feed Emily foods I ask you not to. Tonight, in front of everyone, you said my cake wasnt good because Jack liked something else. Hes never once told me that. But even if he had, you dont need to say it in front of people.

Helen said nothing.

Im not your enemy, Sarah continued. Im Emilys mother. Im Jacks wife. I want us to get onbut there have to be ground rules. The same rules for everyone.

Youre throwing me out?

Im asking you to respect our home.

I do respect it.

No, Helen, you dont. Sarah took a breath. Go say goodbye to the guests, and go home. Tomorrow, Ill speak to Jack.

Helen picked up her handbag, lingering as if to say something, but then left for the living room. She hugged Jack, kissed his cheek, exchanged a laugh with him, said her goodbyes, and peered into Emilys roomdark and silent, so she quietly closed the door and left.

Jack shut the door behind the last guests and returned to the kitchen.

Im shattered, he said, rubbing his head.

Sit down, Sarah said. We need to talk.

He sat, looking at her warily.

Really?

Yes.

She poured two cups of tea and sat across from him.

Jack, I want you to get Mums keys back.

He set his mug down.

What?

I want you to get the spare keys to our flat back.

A long silencehe looked at the mug.

Sarah

I know what youll sayshell be hurt, shell say you owe her because of helping with the flat. Ive a suggestion: lets take out a small loan for her share, pay her back. Then shes got no claim on the flat or right to come and go.

Jack got up, paced. Sarah, well pay off the mortgage soon. Why take out a loan?

So youll stop saying she helped us as an excuse for her breaking our rules.

I dont

You do, Jack. Every time.

He stopped by the window, looking out at the dark with one lit window opposite. He stood in silence.

Mums always had to manage everythingsince Dad died, shes never let go. She only means well.

I understand.

She doesnt mean to be difficult.

I understand that too. Jack, Im not asking you to stop loving her. But its time to set different boundaries. Youre not a little boy. You have your own family now. She needs to see theres a line.

Shell be really hurt, Sarah.

And Im not, when she barges in? When she discards my food, overrides my rules? When she slags my cake off in front of people? Im tired of explaining the same thing on repeat. I need you to do it, just onceseriously.

He said nothing for a long time. Then:

Shell say were ungrateful.

Maybe.

Shell say Ive swapped her for you.

Maybe.

Ill feel awful.

I know.

They stood there in the kitchen, hearing Emily sleep through the wall.

Are you sure about the loan? asked Jack.

Im sure I want a home thats really ours.

It is ours now.

Not until she gives those keys back.

He walked to the table, took up his tea, sipped.

Give me a few days, he said.

Alright.

Ill talk to her.

Alright.

About the keys, and all the rest.

Good.

He looked at her. The cake was delicious, you knowreally.

She didnt answer, just cleared away the mugs.

Three days passed. Helen didnt ring. Jack left for work each day, came home, ate, played with Emily before her bedtime, kept to himself.

On the fourth evening, he said: I spoke to her.

Sarah looked up.

And?

It was hardshe cried.

I know.

She said we dont love her.

She always says that.

Yeah. He paused. I told her about the keys, that she has to call, cant change things without asking, and cant give Emily things you dont want her to.

Did she agree?

Not straight away. Said youre driving her out. I told her we both decided.

Sarah sighed. Thank you.

She asked for a week to get used to the idea before giving up the keys. She said shed hand them over, but not yet.

Thats not an answer.

Sarahjust give her a week. If after that she hasnt, Ill go get them. Alright?

She thought for a moment.

Alright. One week.

He nodded and fetched the newspaper. About the loanI think youre right. Lets check into it.

We will.

I know a bloke at the bank.

Good.

Evening settled in quietly. Emily was in the other room, chatting with her building blocks.

Sarah slipped out, peering round the door. Emily was carefully stacking blocks, serious-faced.

A tower, said Sarah.

A tower, Emily agreed, adding one more.

The tower wobbledand held.

A week later, Helen called on Wednesday, asking to visit at three on Saturday, if that was convenient. Sarah said it was. Helen arrived at three sharp, carrying a small baga new picture book for Emily.

For youabout animals. She loves animals.

Thank you, Sarah said.

Hello, Granny! Emily hurried in.

Helen swept her up. While holding her, she looked at Sarahnot with annoyance now, but something else, impossible to pin down.

They drank tea, spoke about the weather and Helens allotment, the warm summer everyone hoped for. Emily sat with her book, showing Granny: Fox! Rabbit! Bear!

Bear, Emily repeated.

Yes, bear, Helen replied.

As they cleared up, Helen reached into her bag and took out her key ring. She unhooked a key and handed it to Jack.

There you go, she said. As we agreed.

Jack took it, held it, then slipped it in his pocket.

Thank you, Mum.

No need for thanks. She finished her tea. You just call when youd like me to come, and Ill comelike we said.

Will do, Mum.

Im fine with that. I understand, youve got your own family now.

We love seeing you, said Jack.

She looked at him, then Sarah. I know, she said.

Maybe that was true. Maybe not. Sarah stopped wondering.

Helen left by half past five. Emily waved from the window. She waved back from below, in her mustard cardigan and walked away.

Jack shut the window.

Well then, he said.

Well then, Sarah echoed.

Emily toddled back to the bedroom with her book. Jack and Sarah stood at the window.

She was quiet for a while, Jack said. Shes hurting.

I know.

Do you regret it?

Sarah thought about it properly, really considered.

No, she said. I dont.

Me neither.

They stood together in the window. They watched Helen disappear down the street.

Shall we move the cabinet? Jack asked suddenly.

Which cabinet?

The one in the hall. Where she shifted it before. You always said its in the wrong place.

You remembered?

I did.

Sarah glanced at him. Now?

Why not.

They went to the hallway. The cabinet was pushed against the wall, not quite as Sarah liked itshed always had it at an angle so the door would open properly.

Jack grabbed one side, Sarah the other.

One, two he said.

They heaved. The cabinet slid into place; the door swung easily open.

Thats better, Jack said.

Much.

Emily wandered over with her book.

Mummy, seefox!

Fox, Sarah said. Clever girl.

Clever, Emily agreed, and trotted back.

Sarah headed to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and set it down, looking at the window sill.

The violet was just where shed put it. Three blossoms had opened by nowdark purple with white edges, vivid and alive. The fourth would bloom soon, swelling and bright on the stem. The leaves were deep green, smooth and glossy. Not shrivelling, not fading. Not in the least.