З життя
HE WILL LIVE WITH US…
Dear Diary,
This evening a harsh knock announced someones arrival. Lucy tossed off her apron, wiped her hands, and went to answer the door. On the doorstep stood our daughter Emily, arminarm with a young man. Lucy let them in.
Hey, Mum, Emily planted a quick kiss on my wifes cheek. This is James hell be moving in with us.
Good evening, the lad said, trying to sound polite.
This is my mother, Aunt Lucy, Emily added.
Mrs. Thompson, Lucy corrected her daughter.
Whats for dinner, Mum? James asked.
Pea purée and bangers, Lucy replied.
I dont eat pea purée, James muttered, slipping off his shoes and heading to the sitting room.
James doesnt like peas, Emily gasped, eyes widening.
James dumped his backpack on the floor and plonked himself on the sofa.
Thats my room, Lucy said, a hint of irritation in her voice.
James, come on, Ill show you where well be staying, Emily shouted, tugging at his sleeve.
I like it here, actually, James grumbled as he rose.
Lucy, think of something to feed James, Emily urged.
Im not sure, Lucy shrugged. We only have half a packet of bangers left.
Thatll do, with a dash of mustard, ketchup and some bread, James replied.
Fine then, Lucy muttered, heading to the kitchen. Shed once rescued a litter of kittens and puppies, but now it was just this new lad to look after.
She ladled the pea purée, slotted two fried bangers onto a plate, nudged a side salad forward, and began her dinner with gusto.
Mum, why are you eating alone? Emily asked as she entered the kitchen.
Because Ive just come back from work and Im hungry, Lucy said between bites. Anyone who wants food should help themselves or cook. And I have a question for you why is James moving in with us?
How could that be? Emily laughed. Hes my husband.
Lucy choked on her sausage.
My husband?
Yes, thats it. Youre an adult now; you decide whether to marry or not. Im nineteen, after all.
You didnt even invite us to a wedding, I muttered from the doorway.
There was no wedding, just the paperwork. Now were husband and wife, so well live together, Emily replied, eyeing my mothers halfeaten plate.
Congratulations, I said, trying to stay neutral. Why no ceremony?
If you have money for a wedding, feel free to give it to us. Well find a use for it, Emily replied dismissively.
Why here, then? I asked.
Because the flat theyre in is a onebedroom and four of them already live there.
So you didnt consider renting? Emily asked.
Why rent when my room is free? I wondered aloud.
Got anything to eat, then? James called from the sofa.
The kettles on, peas are simmering, bangers in the pan. If thats not enough, theres another halfpacket in the fridge. Help yourselves, Lucy shouted.
Mom, youve got a new soninlaw, Emily said, emphasizing the last word.
And what? I should break into a little dance for that? Lucy snapped. Im tired after work, no need for any ritual. Use your own hands and feet to clean up.
Thats why youre still single! Emily retorted, slamming the bedroom door.
After dinner Lucy washed the dishes, cleared the table, changed into gym clothes and drove to the leisure centre. Shed been keeping fit, hitting the gym and the pool a few evenings a week.
Around ten oclock she returned, hoping for a calming cup of tea, only to find the kitchen in disarray. The pot lid was missing, the pea purée had dried and cracked, a packet of bangers lay open on the counter, a stale loaf sat without a bag, the pan was scorched and its nonstick coating scraped with a fork, dishes piled in the sink, and a sticky sweet spill stained the floor. The air smelled faintly of cigarettes.
Blimey, this is new, Lucy muttered as she opened the bedroom door. James and Emily were down the hall, wine glasses in hand, smoke curling from their cigarettes.
Emily, clear up the kitchen. Get a new pan tomorrow, Lucy said, stepping back into her room without closing the door.
Emily sprang up and chased after her.
Why should we clean? Im a student, I dont work. You dont care about the dishes? she snapped.
Remember the house rules: eat, then clean; make a mess, then clean; if you break something, replace it. Everyone looks after their own mess. That pan wasnt cheap, and now its ruined, Lucy replied calmly.
You dont want us to live here, Emily accused.
No, Lucy said, steady as ever.
I have my share too, Emily protested.
The flat is mine. I paid for it, I own it. Youre just on the tenancy list. If you want to stay, follow the rules, Lucy instructed.
Ive lived by your rules all my life. Im married now, so you cant tell me what to do, Emily cried. Youre old, you should give us the flat.
Ill give you the hallway outside the lift and a bench on the common area. Did you tell me youve married? I wasnt asked. Youll sleep here alone or with your husband elsewhere. He wont be living here, Lucy said firmly.
Enough of your flat! Emily shouted, gathering her things. James, were leaving.
Within minutes James stumbled into the hallway, clearly drunk.
Alright, Mum, just stay calm and everythingll be fine, he slurred. Emily and I arent going anywhere tonight. If you behave, well even keep it quiet.
What do you call me, Mum? Lucy snapped. Your motherinlaw is still here, so you better mind yourself.
Just you wait, James threatened, punching his own nose.
Lucy clutched his wrist with manicured fingers, squeezing hard.
Let go, you lunatic! James roared.
Mom, what are you doing? Emily screamed, trying to pull her mother away.
Lucy shoved Emily aside, kicked James in the groin and elbowed his neck.
Ill document the assault, he shouted, Ill take you to court.
Ill call the police now so they can record everything, Lucy replied.
The young couple fled the tidy twobedroom flat.
Youre not my mother any more, Emily yelled as she left, and youll never see my grandchildren.
What a tragedy, Lucy said wryly, a small smile tugging at her lips. At least Ill have some peace for once.
She looked at her hands a few nails were broken. All this loss is yours, she muttered.
After they were gone, Lucy cleaned the kitchen, threw out the ruined pea purée and the battered pan, and changed the locks. Three months later, while walking home from work, she met Emily outside the flat. Her daughter had lost weight, her cheeks hollowed, and she looked miserable.
Mum, whats for dinner? she asked.
I havent decided yet, Lucy shrugged. What do you want?
Chicken and rice, Emily whispered, and a bit of salad.
Then lets get the chicken. Youll have to sort out the salad yourself, Lucy replied.
Emily didnt ask any more questions, and James never turned up again.
Looking back, I realise that imposing strict house rules without compassion only breeds resentment. Ive learned that a home is built on mutual respect, not on who holds the keys. This lesson will stay with me for the rest of my days.
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