The air was thick with the scent of frying pasties when the knock came. On the doorstep stood Eleanor Whitmore—Marina’s mother-in-law—her gaze sharp as a winter morning, lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’m not here for tea,” she said crisply, stepping inside without waiting. “This is important.”
Marina wiped her hands on a tea towel and forced a smile. “What is it?”
“Clara and Oliver are staying with me after the wedding. The flat’s too small for three. You’ve got your grandmother’s place standing empty. Let them move in.”
“No. Not after everything.” Marina crossed her arms, standing firm.
Eleanor blinked, as if genuinely baffled. “What have I done to deserve this?”
Marina remembered it too well—the weeks leading to Clara’s wedding. She’d agonized over gifts, certain they’d be invited. They’d lent Clara five thousand pounds for the celebration, after all.
“Suppose they don’t invite us at all,” her husband, James, had muttered darkly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re her brother,” Marina had protested.
She’d taken out her best dress, polished her shoes. Waited. Hoped.
But the invitation never came.
Three days before the wedding, the truth sank in. They’d been erased.
Tears dripped onto the fabric as she tucked the dress away. James only shrugged. “I’ll enjoy the lie-in.”
Two days after the wedding, Eleanor called. Said she’d pop round. Marina decided to ask outright.
“Why weren’t we invited?”
“Oh… we wanted a younger crowd. You’re past thirty now,” Eleanor fumbled.
Marina almost believed her. Until she ran into Eleanor’s sister at the shops.
“Everyone was there,” the woman said. “Even distant cousins. Weren’t you invited?”
Shame burned like coal in her chest.
At home, she told James everything. He suggested ringing his mother.
“Eleanor,” Marina began, voice steel, “why weren’t we invited? And don’t lie. I just spoke to your sister. She told me who was there.”
“Clara and I only wanted… useful guests,” Eleanor said coolly. “People who’d bring proper gifts or connections.”
“And the five thousand we lent her? Was that not useful?”
“You’ll want it back. If you’d given it outright—well, that would’ve been different.”
Marina barely recognized her. Were they nothing to these people?
Two weeks later, Eleanor was back. No call. No apology.
“Your flat’s just sitting there,” she simpered. “The newlyweds need space.”
“It’s not yours. Let it sit. It’s not costing you a penny.”
“Why so bitter? We’re family.”
“Family?” Marina’s voice trembled. “You remembered us when it suited you. Before that, we were invisible.”
“What have we done to you?”
“You really don’t know?” Marina snatched up a teacup, hurling water into Eleanor’s face.
“James, say something!” Eleanor sputtered, wiping her face with her sleeve.
“Ask the useful ones for help,” James said flatly.
Eleanor left without another word, the door slamming behind her like thunder.
