“Mother, you’ve had your fun at our cottagenow off you go,” the daughter-in-law shooed her mother-in-law from the property.
Emma still couldnt quite believe it. Had they really, at long last, bought their own country cottage? They had dreamt of it for ten long years, but life kept throwing obstacles in their pathmortgages, the childrens schooling, yet another financial crisis. But now, after glancing at their savings, they decided: it was time to act. Now or never.
Her husband, Edward, worked at an insurance firmnothing extraordinarywhile Emma made a decent living as a childrens physiotherapist. Still, owning a countryside retreat had always felt out of reach. Fate, however, had other plans. Within a short span, both her grandmother and Edwards passed away, each leaving behind a modest flat in provincial towns.
After much deliberation, the couple agreed to sell both flats, pool the money, and make their dream a reality: a plot of land to call their own.
The perfect opportunity came quickly. Few were eager to sell property in winter, preferring to wait for the summer season. But Edward was adamant.
“Well talk ourselves out of it later, find a hundred excuses, and end up with nothing,” he grumbled.
Emma agreed wholeheartedly. Everything was falling into place!
The plot was perfectelectricity, gas, utilities already connected. All they needed was to build a modest home, even if just for summer use.
Come spring, Edward took leave and, with his friend William, began construction. They worked tirelessly, without breaks, and within a month, the family celebrated their new home.
There wasnt much space to sleepjust air mattresses on the floor and blankets brought from the city. But the essentials were there: a stove and running water. The rest could wait.
“Well, Edward, congratulations!” William raised his glass.
The men downed their drinks, helped themselves to generous portions of barbecue, slathered in onion and sauce, and dug in.
“Whod have thought it would happen so fast!” Emma marvelled. “At New Years, I never imagined owning a cottage, and here we are!” She gestured proudly at the little house.
Though dusk had settled, the group lingered outside, enjoying their impromptu picnic under the open sky.
“Hello, love, how are you getting on?” came a sweet voice over the phone.
If Margaret was this pleasant, she was surely up to something.
“Brilliant, Mum!” Edward replied cheerfully.
“Oh, I know. The grandchildren told meyouve bought a cottage?”
“Thats right! Not just any cottagea proper country retreat!” he declared.
“Oh, listen to you,” Margaret laughed theatrically, though her voice suddenly dulled. “Well, good for you…”
“And how are you, Mum?” Edward asked belatedly.
“Oh, whats there to say at my age? The doctors say I need peace, quiet, no stress. Maybe then Ill recover… But where to find such a place? Spas are dreadfully expensivebeyond my means,” she hinted pointedly.
“Mum, come stay with us!” Edward offered eagerly.
“Oh, dont be silly! As if youve nothing better to do! And Emma wouldnt like it…”
“Mum, stop it. Youre coming, and thats final!”
“Very well, darling, if you insist. Ill bake your favouritemy Victoria sponge.”
When Edward told Emma his mother was coming, she was less than thrilled.
“Let me guesswe get a cottage, and suddenly her doctor prescribes fresh country air?” she scoffed.
“Exactly,” Edward replied simply.
“Not suspicious at all, is it?”
“No, shes got high blood pressure.”
“Youre missing the point. Shes not coming for her healthshes coming to inspect the new cottage!”
“Stop it. Shell stay a week, then go home.”
“Have you forgotten what happened last time?”
Edward had, but Emma remembered perfectly. Margaret had done everything to undermine their marriagespreading gossip, provoking arguments, even insinuating their eldest son “wasnt quite right.” Petty sabotage, too: oversalting soup, swapping sugar for salt. Emma had finally sent her packing on the first train back.
She had no doubt Margaret would stir up trouble again. But she didnt want to turn Edward against his mother. Perhaps, this time, things would be different?
“Oh, how lovely it is here! A proper little paradise! The air, the trees, this darling house…” Margaret gushed. “This mustve been Emmas idea! Shes so clever! Hold onto her, Edwarda wife like her is hard to come by!”
“Whats brought this on, Margaret? Since when am I your favourite?” Emma asked warily.
“Oh, you always were. My sons a fool, but youyoure golden. Weve had our differences, but let bygones be bygones.”
“So Im a fool now?” Edward laughed.
“Yes, but a beloved one,” Margaret smiled. “Now, whats for supper?”
“Barbecue, every night!” Emma said brightly. “Hope you dont mindwe cant get enough of cooking outdoors.”
“Id love some. Last time I had barbecue was in Brighton when Edward was still in school. Can you imagine how long ago that was?”
“Well, Edward, tend to the grill. Ill fetch the meat.”
“Mind if I join you? Id love another look at the house.”
“Of course!” Emma nodded.
This time, Margaret seemed differentcheerful, joking, oddly warm. Emma wondered if time had softened her. Maybe past clashes had made her rethink. Why would she sabotage them now? Theyd been together so long, had grown children, and now this cottage. And Emma was a good wifepractical, loyal, a hard worker, an excellent cook.
While Edward and his mother fetched plates, his phone rang, left face-up on the table. Emmas gaze caught the message before she could look away.
*When are you back in town? Have you told her about us? Waiting to hear. Kisses.*
The phone slipped from her fingers onto the grass. Her thoughts spuneach more dreadful than the last.
*How do we tell the children? How do we split the house? Who is she? And how could Edward do this?*
“Heres the cutlery!” Edward set the plates down.
“I need a moment,” Emma muttered, unable to face him. She rushed inside, splashing cold water on her face.
“Whats wrong?” Margaret barely dodged as a ketchup bottle clattered to the floor.
Emma scrubbed her face, tears mixing with the water. After a minute, she stilled, drying herself with a towel.
“Edwards seeing someone.”
“Oh, love, come here.” Margaret pulled her into a hug. Strangely, she didnt seem surprised.
“Why didnt you say anything?”
“I knew, but I hoped hed come to his senses. Youve been together since unichildren, a cottage. Like I said, hes a fool.”
Emma sobbed. If hed told his mother, it was serious. Their marriage was over.
“Listen. Calm down, dry your eyes. You dont want a scene, do you?”
Emma shook her head, blotting her face.
“Well figure it out. I wont let him walk away that easily.”
Somehow, the words steadied her.
The next morning, Edward left for town”to fetch warmer clothes,” he said, citing a forecasted chill.
But Emma knew the truth. As agreed, she played along.
Once his car vanished down the lane, Margaret sidled up to her on the porch with a plan.
“You need a man.”
“What?!”
“Not seriously, of course. Just enough to make Edward jealous. Sometimes feelings fadea wife becomes too familiar, and a man starts looking elsewhere. But if he sees youre still desirable, he might remember what hes losing.”
Ridiculous as it sounded, there was logic in it.
“And who did you have in mind?”
“What about William? Hes single. Helped build the house.”
“Call him. Barbecue, drinks, a short dress. Let Edward come home to find his spot taken!” Margaret grinned sharply.
To Emmas surprise, William agreed, though theyd barely spoken before. Arriving, he asked at once:
“Wheres Edward?”
“Not back till evening. Im hopeless at grillingneed a mans touch,” Emma said demurely.
Margaret watched through the window.
“More wine?” William reached for the bottle.
“Please, but eat somethingIm a lightweight,” Emma flirted back.
“Youre lovely, Emma,” William handed her a plate of fruit. “Wish I had a woman like you. Dont tell Edward, thoughjust thinking aloud.”
Emma flushed. She hadnt expected this. What if he tried something? Edward would be back soon. Not that it mattered now.
Her
