“Mum, you’ve had your fun at our cottagenow off you pop back home,” said the daughter-in-law, practically shooing her mother-in-law off the property.
Emily still couldnt believe it. Had they really just bought their own cottage? Theyd dreamed of it for ten long years, but life kept throwing spanners in the worksmortgages, university fees for the kids, yet another recession. But then theyd checked their savings and thought, “Now or never.”
Her husband, James, worked at an insurance firmnothing flashywhile Emily was a paediatric physiotherapist. She earned decently, but a country home had always seemed out of reach. Then fate stepped in: both her grandmother and Jamess passed away within months of each other, each leaving behind a flat in sleepy market towns.
After much debate, they sold both, pooled the money, and made their dream a realitybuying a plot of land.
The perfect spot turned up quickly. Few people sell property in winter, waiting instead for the summer rush. But James was adamant.
“Well talk ourselves out of it if we wait. A million excuses, and well never do it,” he grumbled.
Emily agreed wholeheartedly. Everything was falling into place!
The plot was idealelectricity, gas, plumbing, all sorted. All they needed was to build a modest summer house.
Come spring, James took leave and, with his mate Nigel, got cracking. They worked like a well-oiled machine, no faffing about, and within a month, the family celebrated their housewarming.
Granted, sleeping arrangements were creative. Air mattresses on the floor, city-brought duvets. But the essentials were therea stove, running water. The rest could wait.
“Heres to you, James!” Nigel raised his pint.
The men clinked glasses, tucked into kebabs smothered in onions and ketchup, and grinned.
“Whod have thought itd happen so fast?” Emily marvelled. “At Christmas, I didnt even dare dream of a cottage, and nowta-da!” She gestured at the little house.
Despite the gathering dusk, they lingered outside, savouring their makeshift barbecue.
Then Jamess phone rang.
“Hello, love, hows it all going?” came the saccharine voice of Margaret.
Ah. If she was this sweet, she wanted something.
“Mum, its brilliant!” James beamed.
“Oh, I know. The grandkids mentioned youve got a cottage now?”
“We have! Not just a cottagea country estate!” he declared proudly.
“Oh, dont be silly,” Margaret laughed theatrically, then her tone flattened. “Well, good for you”
“How are you, Mum?” James asked, belatedly remembering to ask.
“Oh, whats there to say at my age? Doctors reckon I need peace, quiet, no stress. Might help me recover But wheres that to be found? Spas cost the earthId never manage.”
“Mum, come stay with us!” James offered eagerly.
“Oh, darling, dont be daft! As if youve got nothing better to do! And Emily wont want me underfoot”
“Stop it. Youre coming. End of.”
“Well if you insist. Ill bake your favouritemy lemon drizzle.”
When James broke the news to Emily, she was less than thrilled.
“So, we get a cottage, and suddenly her doctors prescribe fresh air? How convenient,” she said drily.
“Yep,” James replied simply.
“Not suspicious at all, is it?”
“Nope. Shes got high blood pressure.”
“James, shes not coming for her health. Shes coming to snoop!”
“Relax. Shell stay a week, then toddle off.”
“Do you remember her last visit?”
He didnt. Emily did. Margaret had done her utmost to wreck their marriagewhispered gossip, stirred trouble, implied James was “too good” for her. Petty sabotage toooversalted soup, baking soda “accidentally” swapped for icing sugar. Emily had packed her off on the first train home.
She had no doubt Margaret would stir the pot again. But badmouthing his mum wasnt her style. Maybejust maybethis time would be different?
“Oh, its simply gorgeous here! A little paradise! The air, the trees, this adorable house” Margaret gushed upon arrival. “This mustve been Emilys idea! Shes such a clever girl. Hold onto her, Jameswives like this dont grow on trees!”
“New tactic, Margaret? Whats brought this on?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“Youve always been my favourite. My sons a numpty, but his wifes gold. Weve had our bumps, but were past that. Water under the bridge”
“Im a numpty?” James laughed.
“Yes, but my numpty,” Margaret smiled. “Now, whats for dinner?”
“Barbecue every night!” Emily grinned. “Hope thats alright? Were just mad for cooking outdoors.”
“Lovely. Last time I had kebabs was in Brighton. James was still in school. Imagine!”
“Right, Jamesman the grill. Ill fetch the meat.”
“Mind if I join? Fancy another peek at the house.”
“Of course!” Emily nodded.
Margaret was different this timewarm, joking, oddly chummy. Maybe time had softened her? Past rows mightve made her rethink. And why sabotage them now? Theyd been together years, had grown kids, a cottage. Plus, Emily was a model daughter-in-lawcapable, loyal, a whiz in the kitchen.
While James and his mum fetched plates, his phone buzzed, screen-up. Emilys gaze snagged on the message before she could look away.
*When are you back in town? Have you told her about us? Waiting for news. Kisses.*
The phone slipped from her hand, landing softly in the grass. Her mind reeled.
*How do we tell the kids? Split the flat? Who is she? And how could James do this?*
“Plates are here!” James set them down.
“II need a minute,” Emily blurted, fleeing inside. She couldnt face him. She splashed cold water on her face, gasping.
“Whats wrong?” Margaret recoiled, nearly dropping the ketchup.
Emily scrubbed at her face, tears mixing with tap water. Finally, she blurted, “James is seeing someone.”
“Oh, love, come here.” Margaret hugged her.
Emily stiffened. She hadnt seemed surprised.
“You knew?”
“Id hoped hed snap out of it. Youve been together since uni, have kids, a cottage. Like I saidnumpty.”
Emily sobbed. If hed told his mum, it was serious. Their marriage was over.
“Listen. Dry those tears. You dont want a scene, do you?”
Emily shook her head.
“Well figure it out. No way were handing him to her on a platter.”
Somehow, that helped.
The next day, James headed to town”for warmer clothes,” he said, citing a cold snap forecast.
Emily knew the real reason. Playing along, she kept cool.
Once his car vanished, Margaret sat beside her on the porch and unveiled her plan.
“You need a man.”
“What?!”
“Not seriously. Just to make James jealous. Men get complacentwifeys old news. But if he sees youre still desirable, he might snap out of it.”
Ridiculous yet it made sense.
“Whod we even ask?”
“Nigel? Hes single. Helped build the place.”
“Call him. Kebabs, drinks, a short dress. Let James come home to find his spot taken!” Margaret grinned wickedly.
Surprisingly, Nigel agreed, though theyd barely spoken before. Arriving, he frowned.
“Wheres James?”
“Back tonight. Im hopeless at grillingneed a mans touch,” Emily demurred.
Margaret watched from the window.
“More wine?” Nigel reached for the bottle.
“Please, but Ill need foodIm a lightweight,” Emily flirted.
“Youre gorgeous, Em,” Nigel handed her a fruit plate. “Wish I had someone like you. Dont tell James, thoughjust thinking aloud.”
Emily flushed. She hadnt expected that. What if he tried something? James would be back soon. Not that she owed him anything now
Her thoughts tangled. She took another sipthen a car screeched up.
James braked hard, nearly hitting the fence.
“What the hells going on?!” he roared, storming out.
“Back early?” Emily blinked.
“Mum rang saying youd had a visitor the second I left! And its my best mate?!”
“Whats it to you? Sort out your fling. I
