Emily and her husband James are staying with her parents for a bit in a cosy little house just outside Manchester. It’s not ideal, but they’re saving up after taking out a mortgage on a new flat—three years in, and they’re still chipping away at it. The only problem? James’s mum, Margaret, who’s turned their already tricky living situation into a proper nightmare.
From the start, Emily refused to live under the same roof as Margaret. They couldn’t be more different—like oil and water. “She’s never happy with anything,” Emily vents to her best mate over tea. “Honestly, I reckon she’d complain about the way the rain falls if she could. It’s exhausting. I bite my tongue, but I’m at my breaking point. She picks apart everything I do, and I’m just… done.”
For their wedding, Emily’s parents gifted them £10,000 towards the mortgage deposit. James’s dad left him a small room in an old shared flat, and Margaret threw in an extra £2,000. It was enough to buy a new-build flat, and after waiting ages for the developers to finish the snagging, they’re finally ready to move—especially now that Emily’s expecting. “Soon we’ll have our own place, our own family,” she daydreams. “No more living with parents. It’ll be perfect.” Except the flat’s not *quite* perfect—nothing major, just little things like peeling wallpaper and creaky laminate flooring. “Nothing money and time can’t fix,” Emily sighs.
But the second Margaret stepped inside, the criticism started. “This isn’t a finish—it’s a disgrace! For that much money, you could’ve had a palace! And that view? Ghastly!” Emily just shrugged. To her, the view of the park and the kids’ playground was lovely. “It’s not like we’re staring at a landfill—what’s her problem?” It’s always been like this: her wedding dress was wrong, the rings weren’t good enough, and now the flat. “No wonder her first husband left,” Emily mutters. “No one could put up with that attitude. She’s never happy with anything—not even her own life.”
Then things went properly downhill when Margaret found out they wanted to redo the flat. Every morning, it’s another sarcastic call: “Moved in yet? Oh, wait—you’re *millionaires* now, doing up the place! However did people survive without gold-plated taps?” Emily finally snapped: “We’re spending *our* money, not yours—your £2,000’s long gone. Stop calling!” That set Margaret off. She brought up the money again, and even the room from James’s dad (which had nothing to do with her). “If you’re that bothered, we’ll pay you back!” Emily shot back. Cue floods of tears from Margaret, threats to cut James out of her life if he dared.
Emily’s best mate asked, “What does James say?” She sighed. “He just says, ‘Mum’s always been difficult, but she’s family—we have to put up with her.’ He brushes it off, but *I* can’t keep doing this.” Even Emily’s mum tried talking to Margaret, but she wouldn’t budge. “My James will be slaving over that mortgage while his wife’s on maternity! Wait till the baby’s older—*then* do the flat up. Why put him in debt?”
Her mate had a theory: “Right now, you’re at your parents’, so she can’t drop in whenever. But once you move? She’ll be round all the time, ‘checking’ how you’re cooking, cleaning, *living*.” Emily’s stomach sank. “She doesn’t care about James—she cares about control.” The idea terrified her. If Margaret starts turning up daily under the guise of “helping with the baby,” life will be hell.
Emily’s at her wit’s end. How does she keep Margaret out of their lives without starting a war with James? Putting up with her forever isn’t an option, but a full-blown row could wreck their marriage. What’s the answer? Have you ever dealt with something like this? How would you handle it?
