How My Future Mother-in-Law Ruined Our Holiday: The Story of an English Family Vacation Gone Awkward, Complete with Last-Minute Substitutions, Reluctant Travel Partners, and Lessons Learned Before Saying ‘I Do’

Its just Being alone with my daughter on holiday, its frightening, you know? Margaret swept her hand through the air for emphasis. Just the two of us, two womenand neither of us speaks the language. If anything happens Her voice trailed off. But with you and Max along, well, it doesnt seem so daunting anymore. Well be close by each other, just in case.

Olivia couldnt possibly have known just how *close* that would turn out to be.

Oh, its such a shame, Olivia exhaled, the disappointment in her voice clear.

Plans for the trip had been in the works for six monthsher, Max, his brother Daniel, and Daniels wife. Theyd managed two holidays together last year, both of which had gone off splendidly. The four of them were the perfect group, equally game for anything: a night at the pub, a wild adventure, or simply lazing by the sea. Interests lined up so neatly, Olivia sometimes felt it must be fate.

And now?

Of course, Olivia would never dream of blaming Daniels wife that shed fallen ill at the worst time. But she still had every right to be upset, didnt she?

Well, what can we do? Daniel said, resigned. Youll just be roaming around old castles on your own this time. He was as disappointed as Oliviahed never leave his poorly wife, obviously. No one would expect that.

But it was a shame about the moneythose holiday bookings werent refundable now. And it was a shame about the plan theyd all looked forward to.

That evening, Maxs mum, Margaret, dropped round for a visit, as she often did. Max was quite close to her; Margaret was, in many ways, a decent woman. She had her quirks, naturallylike most traditional English mothers-in-law, she sometimes felt the need to instruct Olivia on the ways of proper home-making, but Olivia knew from her friends that shed likely gotten off lightly. Some of them had real dragons for mothers-in-law.

Margarets visits were frequentto the point of bordering on habitual. About four times a week, shed pop by. Still, only once every two weeks or so did she get the urge to critique Olivias cooking or cleaning. Honestly, some of her advice had actually come in handy. Olivia certainly didnt see Margaret as an enemy.

So when Margaret proposed joining them on holiday, Olivia responded politely. Margaret would bring her younger daughter, Emily, buy Daniel and his wifes now-spare bookings, and tag along with Max and Olivia for a sunny fortnight in Spainsun on her bones, new experiences, the lot.

Its just Two women alone, you see. But with you and Max, Ill feel safe, she repeated.

Neither Max nor Olivia protested. How could they? Margaret was determined, and Max seemed thrilled at the prospect of showing his mum a good time abroad.

If only Olivia had known quite how stifling the togetherness would be, shed have never agreed to Margaret and Emily joining. Then again, at least she was discovering what her future husband and in-laws were really like *before* walking down the aislebetter this than drama and paperwork later, she told herself.

Some of Olivias friends thought she was mad. Who in their right mind goes on holiday with their mother-in-law? Shell ruin your fun, make you jump through hoops, and Max will spend all his time fussing over her. In response, Olivia pointed out that Emily was nineteena grown woman in her own right who would hardly need a playmate. They rarely spoke back home anyway; only at dinner, with the odd, Please pass the salt, between them.

And Margaret? Olivia reasoned that, of course, the trip would have to be planned with her presence in mindbut how bad could it be for just a fortnight? Small sacrifices, a bit of patience, and next time shed have the perfect excuse to say no.

Anyway, her friends didnt know Margaret. They judged her by their own experiences with their own battle-axe mothers-in-law, and Olivia had always counted herself lucky with Maxs family. They were now changing tunequick to warn her off the trip as if it would be a disaster.

Yet she couldnt back out, not with Margaret already excited and Max strutting about, pleased that hed get to take his mum to see the Spanish coast.

The first warning bell rang on the plane.

Emily took the window seatno one minded. Olivia, used to frequent business flights, considered the window nothing more than a dreary part of the aircraft. Max couldnt care lesshe preferred the in-flight entertainment. Olivia claimed the aisle, wanting easy escape to the loo rather than climbing over napping neighbours.

Margaret was just across the aisle from Olivia, wringing her hands nervously. As soon as the plane hit turbulence, she looked near to tears.

Naturally, Olivia couldnt refuse when Margaret asked to swap seats so she could be next to her son. If it made her feel safe, who was Olivia to object? But once the turbulence was over, no one felt the urge to switch back. Instead, Margaret watched Maxs screen with feigned interest, then fell asleep on his shoulder as though that were the most natural thing in the world.

Dont get angry, Olivia told herself. After that fright, anyone would want to stay settled. Besides, its rude to wake someone whos sleeping

But she couldnt ignore the fact that Margaret miraculously stirred as soon as the food trolley appeared. And she might have swapped seats with Emily, who by this point had lost all interest in the window and shuttered herself into Maxs movie world. Watching this little family tableau, Olivia started to bristle.

Things only got worse on arrival.

Max didnt even glance at Oliviahe dashed straight off to help his mother with her bags, to find her something to drink, to fuss and coddle at every turn. Olivia felt invisible, like an afterthought. Why was she even there? Was she not part of this family?

Darling, dont overreact. No one is making you feel left out, Max insisted. Mums just never travelled abroad before. You saw how she was on the flight…

Olivia bit her tongue. The voice her mother had impressed on herthe one that said always put others first, be considerate, dont make a fusswhispered that Margaret *had* just been through an ordeal, and Max was simply being a good son. No harm in that. Its not as though Olivia was burdened because her fiancé carried his mums suitcases or checked if she needed anything.

But she couldnt know that the turbulence on the flight and those first awkward hours at the airport were just the beginning. By the very next evening, Margaret, with all the fanfare of a royal procession, moved herself and Emily into Max and Olivias hotel roomBy the third day, Olivia found herself lingering at the breakfast buffet while the others debated which cathedral had the most interesting stonework. Margaret would clutch the guidebook so tightly it crinkled, declaring, We cant possibly miss the bell tower at Santa Luzia, Max, can we? Max, smiling dutifully, would glance at Olivia over his shoulderan apology she no longer cared to decipher.

At first, Olivia resented them all: the way Margaret commandeered every meals seating, quizzed waiters about the origin of every ingredient, critiqued Spanish coffee to anyone whod listen. The way Emily retreated into wireless headphones, content to let family tides pull her wherever they wished. Olivias patience wore thin as Max deferred, again and again, to whatever his mother desired.

Then, late one humid evening, Olivia stepped out onto the beach alone. In the hush, where the seas sighing drowned out even her own thoughts, she realized she had a choice. She could let this trip define her relationship with this familyor she could seize the sunlit days still ahead, and carve out her own memories.

The next morning, over strong coffee, she announced shed booked a kayaking lesson. Alone. Margaret blinked; Max froze with his fork mid-air.

But darling, I thought we were going to the museum together? Margaret frowned.

You go without me, Olivia replied gently. Id like a little adventure of my own.

She left them amid a flutter of concern and disapproval, and paddled out that afternoon under a sky so clear it left her breathless. Water sloshed against the hull like applause. Olivia smiled at her own reflectionsun-kissed and windswept, untethered for the first time in months.

By the final days, the pattern stuck: sometimes Olivia walked with the group, but often she slipped away for an hour, a morning, a whole sun-drenched afternoon. She found a tiny bookshop tucked behind orange trees, shared tapas and stilted jokes with locals, wandered crooked streets unencumbered by guidebooks or expectations.

At dinner on their last night, Margaret toasted family holidays with watery sangria, eyes shining. Emily, for once, looked up with a half-smile. Olivia met Maxs gaze and he nodded, an unspoken truce passing between themhe saw her, finally, in all the ways that truly mattered.

On the plane home, Margaret fussed less. Emily dozed against the window, and Max claimed Olivias hand when the aircraft hit a patch of rough air. Olivia squeezed back, surprised to feel only warmthno resentment, no regret. She gazed out at the clouds, relishing the hush, and plotted her next escape, already knowing that the boldest adventures were the ones made entirely for herself.

And just before they landed, Max leaned in and whispered, Next time, just you and me?

Olivia grinned. Next time, just me, she teasedbut she laced her fingers in his, and knew finally, from the inside out, that happiness sometimes meant choosing your own path, even when everyone else was heading in the opposite direction.