A Treacherous Surprise: The Mother-in-Law’s Secret Plan
Emily was still asleep when a sharp knock at the door shattered the morning quiet of their flat on the outskirts of Manchester.
“Oliver, get that,” she muttered, nudging her husband in the ribs.
“I’m asleep,” he grumbled, pulling the duvet tighter.
With a sigh, Emily dragged herself out from under the warm covers and shuffled to the door in her slippers. When she opened it, she froze—her mother-in-law stood on the doorstep.
“Margaret? What are you doing here?” Emily’s eyes widened in shock.
Without a word, Margaret swept past her, leaving a trail of strong perfume in her wake.
“Luv, who is it?” Oliver rubbed his eyes as he appeared in the hallway.
“Not talking? Go on then, tell your wife about our little surprise!” Margaret smirked at her son.
“What surprise?” Emily spun around to face Oliver, her heart sinking with dread. She knew they were hiding something, but she never imagined the blow that awaited her.
“Again?” Emily stared at Oliver helplessly. “We were just at your mum’s last weekend, helping with chores! I’m knackered, Ollie—let’s just have this weekend to ourselves, yeah?”
Her voice trembled, her eyes pleading, but Oliver stood firm.
“Em, you know how hard it’s been for Mum since Dad passed. She’s on her own, struggling. I’m her only son—I have to help.”
“Why’s she here now?” Emily fought to keep her cool.
“She needs wallpaper—light beige, and a few bits for the renovation.”
“Couldn’t she order online?” Emily asked hopefully.
“She doesn’t know how. We’ll go this weekend, make a day of it.”
“A day at the DIY store? What fun!” Emily scoffed, resentment bubbling inside.
Still, she refused to ruin her weekend. Grabbing her phone, she quickly ordered everything on the list for delivery, choosing the materials herself and paying upfront. Now, Margaret had no reason to visit their flat. The delivery was scheduled for Friday evening, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief—everything was under control.
Her shock was palpable when Margaret turned up on Saturday morning, laden with bags full of wallpaper and paint tins.
“Did you really think I’d haul all this myself?” Margaret shot Emily an icy glare. “Oliver, didn’t you tell her anything?”
“Margaret, this was supposed to be a surprise,” Emily stammered, still in her pyjamas in the hallway.
“Charming,” Margaret sneered before turning back to her son. “Cat got your tongue? Go on, tell your wife about our little surprise!”
“What surprise?” Emily turned to Oliver, her voice shaking. She felt her whole world about to crumble.
“I’m moving in with you for a few months,” Margaret announced triumphantly, slipping off her coat.
Before Emily could process this, her mother-in-law delivered the final blow:
“And you two—you’re moving to my cottage.”
Margaret swept into the kitchen like royalty, while Emily grabbed Oliver’s arm and hissed,
“What is this? Moving? We never discussed this!”
“Sorry, didn’t get the chance,” Oliver shrugged, as if it were nothing. “Mum suggested it. Don’t worry, it’s not happening tomorrow.”
Fuming, Emily stormed into the bedroom. Arguing in front of Margaret was out of the question, but inside, she was seething. By evening, Oliver finally explained.
“Em, think about it—it’s a chance! We’ll renovate the cottage however you like. Great for your portfolio, more clients! We’ll stay there while we fix it up. Mum can’t handle the dust at her age, and someone needs to oversee the work.”
“And that someone is me?” Emily choked on her anger.
“What’s the big deal? You need the work, and Mum and I are looking out for you!”
“Looking out for me? You’re exiling me to the middle of nowhere! I love our flat!”
“We’re not leaving yet,” Oliver brushed her off. “You’ve ordered the wallpaper—we’ll start with one room, make Mum comfortable.”
“And what about her breathing in dust?” Emily snapped.
“We’ll open a window—she won’t notice. Besides, we’re not exactly in a position to dictate terms. The flat’s in her name, and the cottage is technically mine.”
“Only because you never sorted the inheritance!” Emily exploded.
“Stay out of family business!” Oliver cut in. “Mum and I have it sorted. I’m her only heir—it’ll all be ours eventually.”
“If the flat was in your name, your mum wouldn’t be kicking us out! But thanks to your laziness, we’re stuck in that cottage!”
Margaret, eavesdropping at the door, couldn’t stay quiet. She barged in.
“Keep your mouth shut!” she barked. “You came into this family with nothing, and now you’re eyeing up my property?”
“With nothing?” Emily gasped.
“Face it—without my son, you’d be on the streets! Now you’ve got the nerve to make demands?”
“It’s only fair,” Emily shot back. “You’ve cut Oliver out of everything! What if you remarry?”
“Me? Remarry?” Margaret burst out laughing, softening at the unexpected compliment. “Fine—renovate the cottage, and I’ll put the flat in Oliver’s name. But the cottage stays mine. Happy?”
Emily exhaled in relief. Oliver, though annoyed by the argument, forced a smile.
“Still feels a bit wrong, though…” he muttered later in the car.
A week later, they finished renovating one room in the flat and moved to the cottage.
“She’s being kind, and we…” Oliver trailed off guiltily.
“We’re just getting what’s ours,” Emily said firmly. “Once the renovation’s done, the flat’s ours. Imagine that?”
The cottage greeted them bleakly—peeling walls, creaky floors, and a mountain of work ahead. The renovation costs were daunting.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take out a loan,” Oliver reasoned. “Worth it for the flat.”
Reluctantly, Emily agreed. She threw herself into the work, overseeing every detail. Slowly, the cottage transformed, and to her surprise, she fell in love with the process.
“We need a flowerbed out front,” she mused. “Maybe roses.”
Emily began tending the garden, though it wasn’t part of the plan. Every evening, she’d excitedly update Oliver.
“I’ve ordered peonies for here.”
“Em, that’s over budget,” Oliver frowned. “Mum can sort it when she moves in.”
The words stung. She’d poured her heart into this place, and now he was talking about his mother moving in?
“Ollie… what if we stayed here?” she ventured. “I love it. The cottage is yours—no paperwork needed.”
“What about the flat?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s cramped, stuffy. Here, there’s space, fresh air!”
“I’ll talk to Mum,” he promised.
Emily was over the moon. She threw herself into decorating the cottage, even starting a small vegetable patch. This new life felt perfect—until Margaret arrived.
“Hello, Margaret,” Emily greeted her with a smile, eager to show off the renovations. “No warning?”
“Should I warn you when I’m coming home?” Margaret snapped. “You’ve dragged this out—I’m here to check on things.”
“Home?” Emily faltered. “Oliver didn’t tell you? We’re staying here. The cottage is his—no need to change anything.”
Margaret paled and sank into a chair.
“You shameless girl! Stealing my home? I was being kind, and now you’re taking everything? Never! I’m staying! Oliver will side with me—don’t push this. Pack your things!”
Emily was speechless. She’d never realised Margaret cared so much for the cottage. She’d always raved about their flat, mocked the countryside as “backwards.”
They waited for Oliver in tense silence, neither speaking a word. Both hoped he’d take their side.
When Oliver walked in, gloomy and tense, their stares made him wince.
“What’s happened?”
“The company went under. I’ve lost my job,” he admitted. “We’ll have to stay here, Em. It’s cheaper—no fancy shops, just the basics.”
Margaret said nothing, watching her son. Emily silently rejoiced—Oliver had made the choice without her pleading. She knew he caved to his mother often, but this time, luck was on her side.
“Mum… I’m sorry, but we need to stay here,” Oliver said gently. “Until we’re back on our feet. The village is cheaper.”
Defeated, Margaret nodded. She left without another word. Oliver turned to Emily and grinned.
“How was that?”
“What do you mean?” she blinked.
“I knew Mum wanted the cottage back, but I saw how much you loved it.They stood together in the quiet of their new home, knowing no one could take it from them now.
