“You’re Not a Wife, You’re a Servant. You Don’t Even Have Children!” – When Helena Moved in During Renovations, Her Mother-in-Law’s Cruelty Tested Her and Her Husbands Marriage in Their London Home

Youre not a wife, youre a servant. And you dont even have children!

Mum, Emily will be staying here for a while. We’re renovating the flat, so it’s uninhabitable. Theres a spare room here, why should she sit in all that dust? said Emilys husband, Thomas.

He didnt seem the least bit troubled by this arrangement, quite unlike his wife and his mother. His mother simply couldnt stand her daughter-in-law.

I need to work; I cant be around all day, Emily whispered, almost as if the wallpaper itself might overhear her.

His wife, working from home each day, needed peace and quiet. Thomas was gone, swallowed up by his office hours, and it was hardly a dream to share space with ones mother-in-law. Emily, long accustomed to the gentle echo of an empty house, found even the carpet seemed to bristle at the footsteps of another.

Emily gazed at her mother-in-law, words bottling up in her throat, as if language itself recoiled from the tension. Her mother-in-law, though not keen on housing Emily, accepted that there was no way round it. And so they gathered at the table for a supper that felt like a stage play.

Emily, please would you pass that famous salad of yours? said Thomas.

Thomas, dont touch that chemical nonsense. I made you something propermuch healthier, his mother warbled on, like an old kettle refusing to quieten.

Emilys face turnedher husband was severely allergic to tomatoes. How could his mother forget after all these years? But when he was young, shed brushed these things aside: No need for doctors when a pill will do.

Hes allergic. Why did you put tomatoes in the salad? Emily asked.

What are you going on about? Its only one tomato, nothing dreadfuls going to happen, the mother-in-law replied.

Hell get ill.

Oh, Emily, do calm down! He hasnt got an allergy. Im his mother, Id know far better than you.

Im his wife. Its my duty to look after him.

Youre not a wife, just a servant. Youve no children, so what would you know? When you have some, then you can talk to me.

Emily shot up from the table and dashed to the bedroom. Her mother-in-law always pressed just where it hurt. Thomas hurried after to comfort his wife.

Im sorry, Thomas. Maybe I should just go and stay with my parents. Or at the office. I cant live with your mother.

Let me talk to her. Shell stop, I promise.

No, weve done this a thousand times. Well never get along under the same roof.

So, for a while, they rented a flatjust to sidestep another family drama. His mother, naturally, sent looks sharper than carving knives, but there was nothing she could do. And Emily, at last, had reason to smile, thankful for a gentle, understanding husband, as if waking up from a peculiar dream where the dining chairs had eyes and the wallpaper whispered her name.