You’re Just Jealous – Mum, are you serious right now? The Savoy? That’s at least a hundred quid a head! Igor tossed his keys onto the shelf so hard they rattled off the wall. Olga glanced away from her sauce on the stove and immediately noticed her husband’s white-knuckled grip on his phone. He listened to his mother for several more minutes, then muttered a curse and hung up abruptly. – What happened? Instead of answering, Igor slumped down at the kitchen table and glared at his plateful of potatoes. Olga switched off the hob, dried her hands on a tea towel, and sat across from him. – Igor… – Mum’s lost the plot. Completely gone round the bend at her age. – He looked up, and Olga saw so much anger and helplessness in his eyes that it made her heart ache. – Remember I told you about… this Val? From the dance class? Olga nodded. Her mother-in-law had mentioned the new acquaintance about a month ago – flustered, fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. Back then, it had seemed sweet: a fifty-eight-year-old widow, alone for five years, and now – a dance club at the community centre, a gallant gentleman who knew his way around a waltz. – Anyway. – Igor pushed his plate aside. – She took him to the Savoy. Three times in two weeks! Bought him a suit for eight hundred quid. Last weekend, they went to Bath – guess who paid for the hotel and tours? – Nina. – Bingo. – He buried his face in his hands. – She scrimped and saved for years. For home renovations, the rainy day fund. And now she’s blowing it all on a bloke she’s known six weeks. It’s mental… Olga hesitated, searching for the right words. She knew her mother-in-law well – romantic, open-hearted, naive in her trust. The kind of woman who believes in true love, even after fifty years. – Igor, listen… – She reached across the table for his hand. – Nina’s an adult. It’s her money, her choices. Don’t interfere, she won’t hear you right now anyway. – Ol, she’s just making mistake after mistake! – Yes, and that’s her right. Besides, I think you’re winding yourself up. Igor jerked his shoulder but didn’t pull away. – I just can’t watch her… – I know, love. But you can’t live her life for her. – Olga stroked his wrist. – She has to be responsible for herself, even if we don’t like it. She’s more than capable. Igor grunted his agreement. …Two months passed swiftly. Conversation about Val dried up – his mother called less, her tone more evasive, as if hiding something. Olga assumed the romance had fizzled and stopped worrying. That’s why, when there was a knock on the door one Sunday night and Nina appeared on their doorstep, Olga didn’t immediately piece it together. – Darlings! My dears! – Nina burst into their flat trailed by a cloud of sweet perfume. – He proposed! Look! Just look! A ring glimmered on her finger. Cheap, but Nina gazed at it as if it were the Koh-i-Noor. – We’re getting married! Next month! He’s so, so… – She cupped her cheeks and laughed, girlishly. – I never thought, at my age… I’d ever feel this way again… Igor hugged his mum and Olga saw his shoulders finally relax. Maybe things weren’t so bad. Maybe this Val really did love his mother-in-law and they’d all been overreacting. – Congratulations, Mum. – Igor stepped back, smiling. – You deserve happiness. – And I’ve already put the flat in his name! Now we’re a real family! – Nina declared, and time seemed to stand still. Olga stopped breathing. Igor flinched, as if he’d walked into a glass wall. – What… what did you say? – The flat. – Nina waved it off, oblivious to their faces. – So he knows I trust him. It’s love, that’s what love is! Love means trust. The silence was thick enough to hear the living room clock ticking. – Nina… – Olga spoke first, very slowly. – You signed your flat over to a man you’ve known for three months? Before the wedding? – So what? – Nina drew herself up. – I trust him, he’s decent. You’ve all got the wrong idea about him. – We’re not thinking anything. – Olga took a step forward. – Still, you could have waited until after you’d registered… Why hurry? – You lot don’t understand. This… It’s proof of my love. – Nina folded her arms. – What do you know about real feelings? About trust? Igor finally unclenched his jaw: – Mum… – No! – She stamped her foot and Olga suddenly saw not a mature woman but a stubborn teenage girl. – I don’t want to hear it! You’re just jealous of my happiness! You want to ruin everything! She stormed out, bumping the doorframe with her shoulder, and the front door slammed, rattling the glasses in the display cabinet. …The wedding was a small affair – registry office, a second-hand dress, a bouquet of three roses. But Nina shone as if she were marrying in Westminster Abbey. Val – a hefty man with a receding hairline and a greasy smile – behaved faultlessly. He kissed the bride’s hand, pulled out her chair, poured champagne. The perfect groom. Olga watched him over her glass, uneasy. Something was off. The eyes. When Val looked at Nina, his pupils stayed cold and calculating. Professional tenderness. Practised care. She held her tongue. What was the point, when no one would listen? …For the first few months, Nina called every week, breathless, reeling off restaurants and theatres her wonderful husband treated her to. – He’s so attentive! Yesterday, he brought me roses – just like that, for no reason! Igor listened, nodded, then hung up and sat in silence, staring into the void. Olga said nothing, just waited. The year slipped past. Then – a knock at the door… Olga opened it to find a woman she barely recognised. Her mother-in-law had aged a decade overnight: deeper wrinkles, sunken eyes, hunched shoulders. In her hand – a battered suitcase, the same one she’d once taken to Bath. – He threw me out. – Nina sobbed. – Filed for divorce and chucked me out. The flat… it’s his now. All legal. Olga stood aside for her to come in. The kettle boiled quickly. Nina sat clutching her mug, crying – quietly, hopelessly. – I loved him so much. I did everything for him. And he… he just… Olga didn’t interrupt. She just gently rubbed her back and waited for the tears to dry. Igor came home an hour later. He stopped at the door, saw his mother – and his face hardened. – Son. – Nina stood, reached for him. – Son, I’ve nowhere to live… You can’t leave your mother, please. I’ll just need a room. Children should look after their parents, it’s only… – Stop. – Igor raised his hand. – Stop, Mum. – I have no money left. Spent everything on him, every penny. My state pension’s tiny, you know that… – I warned you. – What? – I warned you. – Igor sat on the sofa heavily, as if a sack of bricks had been dumped on his shoulders. – I said: slow down. I said: get to know him. I said: don’t sign over the flat. Do you remember what you told me? Nina hung her head. – That we didn’t understand real love. That we were just jealous of your happiness. I remember perfectly, Mum! – Igor… – Olga tried to intervene, but her husband shook his head. – No. Let her hear it. – He turned to his mother. – You’re a grown woman. You made your choices. You ignored everyone who tried to stop you. And now you want us to clean up your mess? – But I’m your mum! – That’s exactly why I’m angry! – Igor leapt up, his voice breaking. – I’m tired, Mum. Tired of watching you throw your life away, then running to me for help! Nina crumpled in on herself, small and defeated. – He tricked me, son. I truly loved him, I believed… – Believed. – Igor raked a hand through his hair. – Believed so much you signed the flat to a stranger. Genius, Mum. Pure genius. Remember Dad bought that flat! – I’m sorry. – The tears flowed again. – I was blind, I know. But please… give me another chance. I’ll never… – Adults need to own their mistakes. – Igor spoke quietly, exhausted. – You wanted independence? You’ve got it. Find yourself somewhere to stay. Get a job. Sort it out yourself. Nina left weeping, echoing up the stairwell. Olga spent the night beside her husband, silent, just holding his hand. Igor didn’t cry. He lay staring at the ceiling, sighing now and then. – Did I do the right thing? – he asked at dawn. – Yes. – Olga stroked his cheek. – It was hard. Painful. But you were right. In the morning, Igor called his mum and rented her a room in a house-share on the far side of town. Paid for six months in advance. That was the last help he agreed to give. – From here, you’re on your own, Mum. On your own. If you take it to court, we’ll help, pay what’s needed. But you’re not living with us… Olga listened and thought about justice. Sometimes, the harshest lesson is the only one that works. Her mother-in-law got exactly what her blindness deserved. And though it left her feeling bitter and at peace all at once, she suspected this wasn’t the end, and somehow, things would work out. She just didn’t know how yet, but they would…

Youre not serious, Mum, are you? The Savoy Grill? Thats at least two hundred pounds a head for dinnerminimum!

James hurled his keys onto the shelf, sending them clattering against the wall. Alice, standing over the stove stirring a sauce, glanced round and immediately saw the whitened knuckles of her husband, gripping his phone as though it might vanish in his hands.

He listened for a few more minutes to his mother before uttering a sharp expletive and slamming down the call.

What happened?

Instead of answering, James sank heavily into a kitchen chair, gazing gloomily at his plate of potatoes. Alice quickly turned off the hob, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and sat opposite him.

James

Mums lost it. Finally lost it in her old age. He lifted his eyes to hers, and Alice saw such a tangled mix of anger and helplessness that her heart gave a painful tug. Remember I told you about thatHarold? From the dances?

Alice nodded. Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Wilson, had mentioned this new acquaintance just a month agoalmost in passing, with shy smiles and an absent fiddling at the edge of the tablecloth. Back then, it had been rather sweet: a fifty-eight-year-old widow, five years alone, and nowan evening dance at the local community hall, a courteous gentleman neatly spinning her in a waltz.

Well, it turns out, shes taken him to The Savoy Grill. Three times in two weeks. Bought him a suit for eight hundred quid. Last weekend they went to Bathguess who paid for the hotel and tours?

Mrs. Wilson?

Bingo. James raked a hand down his face. Mums saved this money for yearsfor the house, for a rainy day. And now shes spending it on a man shes known barely a month and a half. Honestly, I cant believe it

Alice was silent, searching for the right words. She knew her mother-in-law wella romantic, open-hearted, and often too trusting soul. The kind of woman who still believed in grand love even after half a century of living.

Look, James She placed her hand over his. Your mothers a grown woman. Its her money and her decisions. You cant step inshe wont listen right now anyway.

I just cant watch her

I know, love. But you cant live her life for her. Alice gently stroked his wrist. Shes got to take responsibility. Even if we dont like it. And, honestly, I think you might be overdoing your worry.

James shrugged but didnt move away.

Its just hard to watch.

I know. But you must let her be. Shes not daft.

James nodded sullenly.

Two months whisked by in a blink. Talk of Harold faded away; Mrs. Wilson rang less often and, when she did, was oddly evasive, as if keeping something close to her chest. Alice assumed the romance had simply fizzled out, and thought no more of it.

So when, on Sunday evening, the doorbell chimed and Mrs. Wilson stood on the doorstep, Alice was quite unprepared.

My darlings! Oh, my dears! she cried, sweeping into the house with an unmistakable waft of sweet perfume. Hes proposed to me! Look! Look!

She waved her hand, where a ring with a tiny stone glittered. Cheap, perhaps, but Mrs. Wilson gazed at it as though it were a crown jewel.

Were getting married! Next month! Hes just so oh, I never thought, at my age that I would ever feel this way again

James embraced his mother, and Alice noticed his shoulders relax a little. Maybe things werent as bad as shed feared. Perhaps this Harold did truly love her, and they had been unfairly cynical.

Congratulations, Mum. James stepped back, smiling. You deserve happiness.

And Ive put the flat in his name now! Were a real family! Mrs. Wilson blurted it out, and time seemed to freeze.

Alice forgot to breathe. James recoiled as if struck.

What what did you say?

The flat, Mrs. Wilson waved her hand, heedless of their expressions. He needs to know I trust him, doesnt he? Thats what loves all about: trust.

The silence was deafening; you could hear the living room clock tick.

Mrs. Wilson. Alice spoke firstslow and careful. Youve signed over your flat to a man youve known three months? Before marrying?

So what? Mrs. Wilson raised her chin defiantly. I trust him. Hes a good man, not what youre thinking at all. You think badly of him, I can tell.

We dont think anything. Alice stepped forward. But stillwhy not wait, at least until after the registry office? Why hurry it?

You dont understand. Its proof of my love! Mrs. Wilson folded her arms. And what do you know about genuine feelings? About trust?

James finally unclenched his jaw:

Mum

No! She stamped her foot, and for a moment Alice saw not a grown woman but a stubborn teenager. Im not listening! Youre just jealous of my happiness! You want to ruin it!

She stormed out, brushing the doorframe, and the front door slammed with a shudder that rattled the china in the cabinet

The wedding was modesta registry office ceremony in the borough, a dress bought from a charity shop, a bouquet of three roses. Yet Mrs. Wilson glowed as though she were marrying in Westminster Abbey. Harolda sturdy man with thinning hair and a greasy smilewas on his best behaviour. He kissed the brides hand, fetched her seat, and poured the champagne. The picture of a perfect groom.

But Alice, watching from behind her glass, felt something amiss. The eyeswhen Harold looked at Mrs. Wilson, his gaze stayed cold and calculating. It was a practised tenderness, a staged affection.

She kept quiet. What was the use in speaking when no one would listen?

For the first months, Mrs. Wilson called like clockworkbreathless with excitement, listing restaurants and the West End shows her wonderful husband took her to.

Hes so thoughtful! Yesterday he brought me rosesfor no reason at all!

James would listen silently, then hang up and stare at nothing for a long while.

Alice did not press him. She waited.

A year slipped by.

And thenthe doorbell again

When Alice opened the door, she barely recognised the woman beyond it. Mrs. Wilson seemed to have aged a decade overnight: deeper wrinkles, sunken eyes, hunched shoulders. In her handa battered suitcase, the same one shed taken to Bath so long ago.

Hes thrown me out, she sobbed. Filed for divorce and thrown me out. The flatlegally, its his now.

In silence, Alice stepped aside to let her in.

The kettle boiled quickly. Mrs. Wilson huddled in an armchair, hugging her teacup, and weptquietly, hopelessly.

I loved him so much. I did everything for him. And he he just

Alice held her peace, rubbing her mother-in-laws back, waiting as the tears ran dry.

James arrived home an hour later. He paused in the doorway, saw his mother, and his face turned to stone.

James, Mrs. Wilson rose, hands outstretched, James, Ive nowhere to go Wont you let me stay, Ill take up barely any space. Its a childs duty to care for their parent, you know that

Stop. James held up his palm. Please, Mum.

I have no money. Not a penny. I spent every last bit on him. The pensions pitiful, you know that

I warned you.

What?

I warned you. James sat, heavy as if a sack of bricks weighed him down. Told younot to rush. Told youto get to know him. Told youdont sign over the flat. Do you remember what you answered?

Mrs. Wilson lowered her eyes.

That we didnt know real love. That we were jealous of your happiness. I remember perfectly, Mum!

James Alice tried to interject, but her husband shook his head.

No. Let her hear this. He turned to his mother. Youre a grown woman. You made your choice. You ignored everyone who tried to stop you. And now you expect us to pick up the pieces?

But I am your mother!

Thats exactly why Im angry! James sprang up, his voice breaking into a shout. Ive had enough, Mum! Watching you throw your life away, then running back to me for help!

Mrs. Wilson shrank into herself, suddenly tiny and pitiful.

He deceived me, James. I truly loved, I trusted

Trusted. James ran a hand through his hair. Trusted so much you gave the flat away to a complete stranger. Absolutely brilliant, Mum. Did you forget Dad saved for that place?

Forgive me. Tears began their hopeless march down her cheeks once more. Forgive me. I was blind, I know. Just please, give me one more chance. Ill never

Adults take responsibility for their actions, James said, voice weary and quiet. You wanted independence? Well, here it is. Find your own place. Find a job. Sort yourself out.

Mrs. Wilson left in tears, loud anguished sobs echoing down the staircase.

Alice spent the whole night beside her husbandsilent, holding his hand. James didnt cry. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling and sighing deeply now and again.

Did I do the right thing? he asked at dawn, as the sky brightened outside.

You did, Alice murmured, stroking his cheek. It was hardharsh, but right.

In the morning, James called his mother and arranged for a small room for her in a shared house at the edge of town. He paid six months rent in advance. That was the last help he agreed to offer.

From now on, youre on your own, Mum. Sort it yourself. Well help if you take him to courtpay the legal fees if need be. But you cant live with us

Alice listened to this and pondered over justice. Sometimes, the harshest lesson is the only one that gets through. Her mother-in-law had received exactly what her trustful blindness had earned.

And thinking that hurt and soothed her all at once. Still, she couldnt shake the feeling that this wasnt the endthat somehow, things would put themselves right. Not by means she could imagine, but they wouldOutside, spring crept in quietly, painting the hedges with tentative green. Mrs. Wilson didnt call. Letters arrived, once, twicea birthday card in neat, looping script for James, a note wishing Alice luck with a new jobbut never a plea for help or comfort. Life tiptoed on.

Sometimes Alice would catch James by the window on Sundays, eyes fixed toward the estate where his mother now lived. Hed never admit he was waiting for her silhouette, but Alice knewa sons love, after the storms, is a hard thing to extinguish.

June brought a postcardBath Abbey on its face, simple words on the back: Started volunteering at the National Trust. I am all right. The sunflowers are blooming. Alice placed it on the mantelpiece and didnt say a word.

As the seasons circled, Mrs. Wilson reappearednot as the eager, trusting soul theyd known, but steadier, quieter. She came for tea, bringing a pan of lemon cake. She did not ask for money, nor shelter; she asked how James was. She smiled at Alice, and in her eyes time had etched wisdom that no warning could have granted.

At dusk, just before she left, Mrs. Wilson touched Jamess hand, gentler now, the trembling of old regret in her voice. Thank you for letting me fall, she whispered, so I could learn how to stand.

James pressed her hand, no words, only forgiveness in his eyes.

That evening, Alice took down the postcard, tucked it into a drawer with the marriage certificate and Harolds smudged signature. She watched her husband by the window and, for the first time in months, felt hope folding softly around them, like spring after a bitter winter.

Somewhere, down the block, a woman with a battered suitcase walked home beneath blossoming linden treesher head held high, her stride slowbut sure.