I told you I dont want to spend the weekend at your parents house! Poppy stood in the kitchen, ladle in hand, eyes red from crying, staring at her husband.
Poppy, what are you making a fuss about? James sat at the table, glued to his phone. Its just lunch, nothing special.
Nothing special? Your mum finds something to nag about every time! The soup is too salty, Im dressed wrong, we arrived late, we left early!
Youre exaggerating.
Exaggerating? Poppy slammed the ladle into the sink. The last time she told the whole table I was a terrible housewife because I cant bake a proper cake!
Mum was just trying to help.
Help sounds more like, Look at Poppy, she cant even bake a cake!
James finally put his phone down and looked up.
Love, enough. Im exhausted from work, I dont want to argue.
And Im fed up with your mums humiliation!
Humiliation? Youre making that up!
Poppy sank onto a chair, clutching her head. Tears dripped onto the kitchen floor. She was truly tired. Three years of marriage had become a nonstop battle for a voice.
Theyd met at work. James was an engineer in the design department, Poppy worked in accounts. He asked her out for a coffee, they started dating, everything was easy and cheerful.
Trouble began when James introduced her to his parents. Mum greeted her with a cold, appraising stare, scanning her from head to toe. Dad merely nodded and drifted into another room.
So this is the infamous Poppy? his mother asked, not even offering a seat.
Yes, Mum, this is Poppy.
Well, hello then. James has told me a lot about you.
Her tone suggested shed said something scandalous. Poppy felt uneasy but forced a smile and tried to be polite.
The wedding was modest. Money was tight, so they kept the reception small. Mum spent the whole evening with a sour expression, comparing their celebration to her younger son Ians wedding.
Ians wedding was a proper affair! A fancy venue, live band, a hundred guests!
Mum, we cant afford that, James whispered.
Opportunities are made, James. You just have to organise.
After the wedding the couple moved into a tiny onebed flat on the edge of Birmingham. They didnt own a home yet, so saving took ages.
Mum would drop by unannounced, ring the bell, walk in and start inspecting.
Poppy, why is there dust on the wardrobe?
I cleaned yesterday, Edith.
Apparently not well enough. Whats for dinner?
Shepherds pie and mash.
James hates shepherds pie. He prefers rice.
He never told me that.
Because hes delicate. He doesnt want to offend you.
Poppy clenched her fists. James usually kept quiet, never defending her, and that hurt the most.
Now, sitting in the kitchen after another fight, Poppy felt her patience wearing thin, drop by drop.
The phone rang. James answered.
Hello, Mum. Yes, were home. Ill pass the message on.
He handed the phone to Poppy, who took it reluctantly.
Poppy, come over tomorrow morning, Ediths voice sounded like a command.
Why?
We need to talk.
About what?
Youll find out when you arrive. Ill be waiting until ten.
Edith hung up without a goodbye. Poppy set the phone down.
What does she want? James asked.
Shes ordered you to come tomorrow.
Great, youll have a nice chat about nothing.
My mum doesnt have a chat with me. She gives orders.
Poppy, stop this now!
Poppy fled to the bathroom, locked the door and turned on the shower, hoping James wouldnt hear her sobbing.
The next morning she drove to Ediths flat in the city centre. Her late husband had died ten years ago, and she lived alone.
The door opened immediately; Edith was evidently expecting her.
Come in, get your coat off.
Poppy hung up her coat. Edith led her to the kitchen, where a kettle and biscuits sat on the table.
Have a seat, tea?
No, thanks.
As you wish.
Edith poured herself a cuppa and sat opposite Poppy.
Ive called you for something important.
Im listening.
Ian and his family are arriving this weekend from London. Theyll stay a week.
Right.
They have nowhere to stay. Hotels are pricey, and with two kids its a nightmare.
Poppy stared, clueless where this was heading.
Clear a bedroom for the weekend, Edith said firmly, looking Poppy straight in the eye. Our bedroom, the one you share with James.
Which bedroom?
The one in your flat.
Poppy couldnt believe her ears.
You want us to give up our own bedroom?
Not give up, just let them stay for a week.
Where will we sleep?
Youll move into my spare room. I have plenty of space.
Edith, thats our flat!
A rented flat, not yours.
We pay the rent each month!
So what? Family matters more than a few pounds. Ian is your brotherinlaw, his wife Megan is your sisterinlaw, the kids are your nephews. Would you turn them away?
Poppy sat, stunned. Her motherinlaw was actually demanding they vacate their own bedroom for a week?
I need to discuss this with James.
James already knows. I called him yesterday, hes agreed.
What?
Hes fine with it. Said its no problem to stay a week at my place.
Poppy stood up.
Im leaving.
So you agree?
No, I dont agree. Ill talk to James.
Poppy, dont make a fuss. Family is sacred!
Poppy left without a goodbye, boarded a bus home, watching the streets blur past. Inside her head, everything boiled.
That evening James came home from work. Poppy met him in the hallway.
Why didnt you tell me about Ian?
Mum called? he slipped off his shoes and walked to the kitchen.
She did. She said we have to move out of the flat.
Love, its just a week.
James, thats our flat!
A rented one.
But we pay for it! We live here!
I get it. But Ian really has nowhere. Two kids and a hotel is a pain.
Let them find a flat themselves!
Why, if we have one?
Because we dont! We have the one we live in!
James sat down, rubbed his face.
Im tired, Poppy. I dont want to argue. Its just a week. Well crash at Mums, its not the end of the world.
Its not scary for you. For me its humiliation!
Humiliation? Its just helping my brother!
My brother! No one asked me!
Im asking now.
After you already agreed with your mum!
They stared at each other, James weary, Poppy defiant.
So its decided? she asked.
Yes.
Without my say?
Love, its my family too!
And Im what? A stranger?
Youre my wife. But Ian is my brother. Mum asked, I cant say no.
Poppy marched to the bedroom, pulled a suitcase from the wardrobe and started packing.
What are you doing? James appeared in the doorway.
Im packing. If the flat is needed for your brother, Ill clear it right now.
Poppy, dont be silly. They arrive on Friday!
I dont care. Im leaving.
Where to?
To a friend.
Stop the drama!
This isnt drama! Its my decision! You chose family, I chose myself!
She stuffed the bag, grabbed her toiletries. James watched, stunned.
Are you serious?
Absolutely.
Where will you go?
I said its Sophie.
What if she wont let you in?
She will.
Poppy dialed Sophie’s number.
Soph, can I crash at yours for a few days? Yes, weve had a row. Im on my way.
She grabbed her coat, James lunged for her arm.
Stay. Lets talk.
Theres nothing to discuss. You made the decision without me. Im not needed.
I need you!
Im not a compliant doll for Mum, Im a wife with an opinion.
She walked out, James stood on the doorstep, then shut it.
Sophie lived alone in a twobed flat. She welcomed Poppy with a hug and a hot cuppa.
Tell me everything.
Poppy recounted the saga. Sophie shook her head.
Your motherinlaw has gone too far.
Not just her. James didnt even ask me.
You did right leaving. Hell see he cant treat you like that.
Will he?
Hell have to, if he still loves you.
Poppy lay on the shabby sofa, eyes heavy. She replayed the argument, wondering if James truly saw how his mum belittled her.
The next morning James called.
Poppy, how are you?
Fine.
Think about coming back?
No.
You wont stay at Sophie forever!
Ill find a rented room.
Thats silly! We have our flat!
The one youre giving to Ian.
For a week!
I dont care. Im not returning.
James was silent.
Alright. Well talk when youre calmer.
He hung up. For the first time in three years Poppy felt relief. She had finally done what she wanted, not what everyone expected.
She started hunting for rooms to rent. One listing caught her eye; she called the landlady.
Can I view it today?
Of course, come over.
The room was tiny but tidy, in a shared house with two elderly flatmates. The landlady, Vera, was a cheerful woman in her sixties.
You work, miss?
Yes, in accounts.
Married?
Divorced.
Right. My rules: keep it tidy, quiet after ten, no overnight guests.
Sounds good.
When can you move in?
Today, if that works.
Vera smiled.
I see youve had a rough time. Come in, pay the first months rent, £550, and youre settled.
Poppy handed over the cash, took the keys.
Heres your room. Bathroom and kitchen are shared. Make yourself at home.
She set her bag down, looked around at the narrow bed, old wardrobe, little table by the window. Modest, but hers. No one to police her.
She called Sophie.
Youre really moving out?
Yes.
And James?
Hell stay with his mum. Her opinion matters more than mine.
Are you sure?
Absolutely.
That evening James rang again.
Poppy, where are you?
Got a room.
What? Youve gone mad!
No, Ive finally come to my senses.
Come back now!
I wont.
Youre my wife!
I was, until I decided Im worth more.
Youre scaring me. What are you saying?
Im tired of being last on your priority list. Mum first, then brother, and me at the back.
Thats not true!
It is. And Ive realised it. Thanks to your mum, actually.
Lets meet, talk normally.
No.
His voice pleaded. Poppy thought.
Fine. Tomorrow at lunch, the café on the square.
Deal.
They met at a tiny café in the city centre. James arrived early, waiting by the window. When Poppy walked in, he sprang up.
Poppy
Sit, James. Lets have a calm chat.
They sat, ordered coffee.
I get it now. Mum was wrong.
Not only Mum. You were too.
I agree. I shouldnt have agreed without you.
You really shouldnt have. This is our flat, our life.
Im sorry.
Poppy looked at him, seeing genuine remorse.
Did you tell Mum we wont hand over the flat?
James hesitated.
Not yet.
Why?
Im scared shell cause a scene.
And youd rather argue with me than her?
No! Its just harder with Mum.
James, youre thirty. Youre an adult. When will you learn to say no to your mother?
Im trying.
Ive heard that for three years. Nothing changes.
James lowered his head.
What do I do?
Choose. Mum or me.
Thats unfair!
Its fair. Im fed up being second. I want to be first, for my husband.
Youre first!
Prove it. Call Mum right now and say we wont vacate.
James went pale.
Right now?
Yes.
But
If you cant even do that, whats this marriage about?
He stared at the phone, then dialed.
Mum, hello. About the flat for Ian we cant free it up. He should find a hotel or a flat of his own.
Ediths voice rose in anger, shouting over the line.
Youre being selfish! Its our flat! I cant believe youre turning your back on me!
James held the phone away from his ear.
Mum, Im sorry. Ive made my decision.
He hung up, hands trembling.
There. I said it.
Poppy felt a flicker of hope. For the first time James stood on her side.
Thank you.
Shell hate me now.
Shell get over it. The important thing is you finally chose.
James squeezed her hand.
Will you come home?
Ill think about it.
What else?
Talk to Mum. Tell her Im your wife and she must respect me.
Thats impossible.
Then coming back is impossible too.
James sighed.
Alright. Ill talk to her.
They finished their coffee, said goodbye, and Poppy returned to her modest room. The night felt strange James had finally shown some backbone.
Later that night James called.
I was at Mums.
And?
It was tough. She screamed, blamed you for ruining the family.
What did you say?
I said Im destroying our family by giving you up. Im my own man now, I protect you.
Poppy felt tears well up.
Did you really say that?
Yes. She cried, but I didnt back down.
James
Im sorry for the past three years. I let her treat you badly.
I allowed it.
No more. I promise.
Poppy was silent.
Give me another chance. Please.
One chance. The last one.
Thank you. When will I be back?
In a few days. I need time to think.
They hung up. Poppy lay on the sofa, wondering if James had truly changed or if this was a fleeting moment.
Three days passed. James called each evening, asking how she was, sharing his day, saying the house felt empty without her.
Edith also called, her tone now colder.
Poppy, James said you left because of me?
Yes.
Because I asked Ian for help?
Not just that.
Because you three years ignored me.
I was ignored for three years. By you and by James.
James loves you!
He loved me, but he let you walk all over him.
The line went silent. Poppy put the phone down, feeling a strange relief. She had finally spoken her truth.
That afternoon James turned up at her door with a bunch of flowers.
May I come in?
Come.
He handed her the bouquet.
You still live here?
Yes.
Tiny room.
At least its mine. No one tells me what to do.
Poppy, come home. Please.
Tell me first, hows Ian?
He arrived yesterday, stayed in a hotel. Mums still a bit sore, but shes calming down.
Really?
I was firm. Said I wont give up the flat again.
Im scared to go back. I fear the cycle will start again.
It wont. I promise.
Promises are easy.
Ill prove it with actions.
James sat beside her, took her hand.
I love you. Ive been a terrible husband. Mum always had my loyalty, but youre my priority now.
Poppy looked into his eyes, seeing sincerity.
Alright. Ill return. On one condition.
Whats that?
We move somewhere else. EitherWe moved into a cosy twobed flat of our own, and for the first time in years we finally felt at home.
