What kind of mess is this? Call your family and tell them to come clean it up, Lily fumed, arms crossed. Im not tidying after them. Ive had enough of washing sheets every time your mates crash at our cottage. They treat it like a free hotel.
At dinner, her husband, Oliver, sighed. Mum called earlier. She and the relatives are planning a barbecue this weekend.
Good for her, Lily muttered, pushing her peas around the plate. Whats that got to do with us? Shed never warmed to her mother-in-law.
They want to use our cottage, Oliver said, as if it were obvious. They dont have one, and Ive got the car in the garage Saturday. He shrugged. I told her we couldnt go, so she asked for the keys.
Lily had no choice but to agreea decision shed regret. The next weekend, when they arrived at the cottage, she froze. It looked ransacked.
The berry bushes were stripped bare. Mud streaked the floors. A lone pot of congealed soup sat on the stove. Even the kitchen curtain had vanished. What on earth had happened here? His parents were in their sixties, for heavens sake.
She turned to Oliver, seething. What kind of animals did this? Ring your lot and tell them to come sort it. I wont lift a finger. Im already sick of washing sheets after your friends.
Oh, stop fussing. Toss it in the washing machine and hang it up.
Next time, you do it then! Are you seriously fine with this mess?
But Oliver didnt call anyone. Lily gave him the silent treatment before they eventually made up. Theyd been married two yearsa whirlwind romancethough lately, Lily wondered if shed rushed. No kids yet.
Life was routine: work, home, home, work. Weekends meant pub walks or picnics with mates. Everything changed when Lilys mum remarried and moved to Manchester. The family cottage passed to Lily.
Suddenly, Olivers relatives adored her. Someone always wanted an invitebecause, of course, barbecue tasted better outdoors!
Cousins, aunts, uncles, even Olivers nan descended like seagulls on chipsall bringing overnight bags. Oliver cheerfully manned the grill. Lily bit her tongue, not wanting to stir trouble. But something had to give.
Now, weekends filled her with dread. When theyd married, Olivers mum was already elderlyhaving had him late. His sister, Margaret, was ten years older. The woman had grown up in the countryside and acted like everything was communal.
Margaret and her mum helped themselves to Lilys toiletries, slipperseven her silk pillowcases. And now, another call: Oliver, love, can we borrow the keys? This time, Margaret wanted to impress her boss with a weekend barbecue.
Once again, no one asked Lily.
Well give Mum the keys, Oliver said, avoiding her glare.
Lily knew she had to actalone. After stewing, she rang her mum.
Leave it to me, came the crisp reply.
Twenty minutes later, her mum called back: Aunt Eleanors staying at the cottage. Dont fretshell handle it.
Lilys stomach dropped. Aunt Eleanor had terrified her as a child during summer visits. The woman ruled with an iron fist.
That evening, Eleanor rang. Well, niece, finally you call. So, how shall we play this? A gentle scare or full force? She chuckled darkly.
Did you ever tell them the cottage is yours? Eleanor pressed.
II dont think so. They assume its ours.
Leave it to me, darling.
On Sunday, Olivers mum called, hysterical. You sold the cottage? Wheres the money? Why werent we told?
Turns out, Margaret, her boss, and the in-laws arrived to find five strangers already grilling in the garden.
Who the hell are you? Margaret spluttered.
A formidable woman stepped forward. Im the owner. And you are?
Margaret babbled about family ties and borrowed keys. The womanAunt Eleanorfixed her with a withering stare. Youve trespassed. Hand over those keys.
They were ejected, warned never to return.
Lily heard her mother-in-law shrieking down the phone. Oliver stood stunned as she raged: The cottage isnt yours!
Did you ever ask? Lily said coolly. Or did you just assume whats ours is yours?
Margaret invited her boss to impress her! Theres layoffs comingshe could be sacked because of you!
Not my fault. Aunt Eleanor owns it. Maybe buy your own cottage next time.
Oliver finally snapped. None of my family will ever step foot there again.
Their first real fight. Oliver sulked. Margaret got sacked. Ill never forgive you, he spat.
Lily didnt care. She finally saw itnone of this was her fault. Their marriage had hit a dead end.
Mum, I think Im leaving Oliver.
Your choice, love. But where will you live? Ive let my flat. You could stay with Eleanor.
Lily almost laughed. Thanks, but no. Ill rent somewhere.
She filed for divorce, moved out, and never visited the cottage again.
