12March2025 Diary
My inlaws have been whispering behind my back, but they havent the faintest idea that yesterday I walked away with more than a million pounds.
Dont wear that dress again, Annie. It makes you look cheap.
MrsMargaret Harper, my motherinlaw, said it in a voice that sounded soft enough to be a cashmere scarf, yet it was riddled with moth holes. She tossed the remark over her shoulder as she passed me in the hallway, not even bothering to turn her head.
I stopped before the fulllength mirror, staring at the simple summer dress I love. Luke always says I look like a heroine from a classic British film in it.
Dont you like it? I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She halted, turned slowly, her porcelainsmooth face set in a look of condescending weariness.
It isnt about my opinion, dear. Its about standing. My son runs a major project. His wife shouldnt look as if she just escaped a clearance rack.
Her eyes swept me from head to toe, lingering on the cheap sandals and the lack of heavy gold jewellery.
Never mindwell sort it. Karen is heading to the boutiques. Go with her. Shell show you how a respectable woman should dress.
Karen, my sisterinlaw, emerged from her room as if waiting for a cue. She was draped in silk, bearing a designer label she wore with effortless arrogance.
Mother, its pointless. She has no taste, she drawled, eyeing me like a zoo animal. To wear good things you need breeding. And here
She didnt finish, but I understood here meant me, the orphan from a small market town my golden boy Luke had somehow dragged into the family.
I said nothing, merely nodded, and retreated to the room they had allocated to me. Our flat had been flooded by the neighbours, and while endless repairs dragged on, his parents kindly invited us to stay with them.
Luke left on a monthlong business trip, assuring me it would be better this way. Youll grow to love them, youll see! he said before departing.
I shut the door, leaned my back against it, heart pounding not from hurt but from a cold, quiet fury that had been simmering for two weeks.
I opened my laptop, logged onto the chess platform. Yesterdays final match of the World Online Tournament still stared up from the home page. My handle Quiet Move glowed above the defeated avatar of the American grandmaster, and beneath it the prize amount: one point five million dollars, now roughly £1.2million.
I stared at the figure, and in my mind I heard Karens sneer: You need breeding
At dinner that evening, my fatherinlaw, George Harper, was loudly on the phone about some problem asset. When he hung up, he turned to me, irritation plain.
even a modest sum must be invested wisely, not squandered on nonsense. You, Anniewhat did you do before marriage? Some sort of analyst, I gather?
Financial analyst, I replied evenly.
There you go, he said, missing the correction. You should understand. Though what sums would you have dealt with
Karen snorted into her plate of rocket salad and prawns.
Dad, what sums. For their first anniversary she gave Luke cufflinks. Silver ones. I saw them. Probably saved for six months.
MrsHarper chided, amusement flickering in her eyes.
I lifted my gaze from the plate. They were having fun, playing their favourite game: Show the poor relation her place.
The cufflinks are actually lovely, I said evenly. Luke liked them.
Our boy likes everything you give him, cooed my motherinlaw. Hes kind. Not picky.
There was enough poison in that not picky to taint a whole city. I slipped my phone out, as if to check the time. The banking app was open; the prize money sat there, converted and waiting.
I looked at their three wellfed, wellgroomed faces. They knew nothing. To them I was just their sons mistake, a penniless fool who needed to be reshaped or discarded.
And I let them think thatfor now.
The next day they took me to be refitted. Karen led me through the highstreet boutiques like a pampered lapdog.
With exaggerated delight she thrust a silk jumpsuit at me. Try it on. Mother will pay.
I read the price tag and shook my head.
Karen, its far too much. I cant accept it.
Oh, spare us the poorgirl act, she sneered. When someone gives you something, you take it and be grateful. Or do you think our family cant afford to dress Lukes wife?
She said it loud enough for the sales assistants to hear. Heat rose to my cheeks; any answer would make me look worse.
Im just not used to such expensive things, I whispered.
Then get used to it. She snapped at the clerk, Wrap it up. Deliver to the house.
The rest of the day she bought without consulting me. That evening, while unpacking the bags, MrsHarper clicked her tongue.
Well, that already looks more like a person. You were wandering about like some poor waif.
She handed me a designer handbag from her own wardrobe, its handles slightly scuffed. Take it. Im bored of it, but itll be perfect for you. No point throwing it away.
It wasnt a gift, just a handmedown they assumed would be treasure to me.
Thank you, I said, voice sounding foreign.
Later, when George watched the news, I sat beside him.
Im grateful for your hospitality, but
No buts, he cut me off, eyes glued to the screen. Youre our sons wife. Its our duty to look after you.
I understand, but it feels as if youre trying to remake me. I like my life, my work.
At that moment MrsHarper entered, hearing my words.
Work? Annie, dear, what work? Your main work is Luke. Creating comfort for him, bearing children. Youre a clever girl, you must understand. Your pennies in our family budget are laughable.
It isnt about the money, I tried to argue. Its about selfrealisation.
Self what? Karen burst into theatrical laughter. Seriously? Sitting in a stuffy office shuffling papers is selfrealisation? Have a baby and youll understand.
They talked among themselves as if I werent there, planning my life as if it were a project Project DaughterinLaw.
That night Luke videocalled. His tired but happy face filled the screen.
How are you, love? They not giving you a hard time, are they?
I smiled.
Everythings fine, darling. Theyre very caring.
I could not tell him anything. Chess was my secret world, my bond with my father. I had once tried to explain its importance, but he had waved it off as a cute hobby. So I stayed silent, protecting what mattered from misunderstanding. Complaining about his family would drag him into a war where hed be caught in the crossfire. No this was a game I had to win alone.
I miss you, he said.
I miss you too, I replied.
After the call I opened my laptop again, not the chess site but a luxury property portal. I browsed townhouses in Richmond Park, penthouses with river terraces. I wasnt choosing; I was scouting, studying the battlefield. Every snide remark only hardened my resolve.
They thought they were moulding pliable clay. They didnt realise the clay had long since become tempered steel.
The point of no return came on Wednesday. MrsHarper decided to deep clean my room while I was out, insisting she was doing me a favour.
Annie, I tidied up for you, dusted, she said when I returned from the shop. And what was that junk under your bed? Some shabby board and worn little figures.
Inside me something fell away. She meant the old chessboard my father had handcrafted when I was six, each piece carved and lacquered by his own hands the only thing I owned from my parents.
Where is it? I asked, voice even.
Oh, I gave it to the gardener. He has grandkids let them play. We cant keep that sort of trash in the house. It isnt an antique, just old junk. It ruins the look of the place.
She spoke as if shed tossed away a newspaper. She hadnt just removed an object; she had erased a piece of my memory, my soul.
I walked into my emptied room. The parquet gleamed, the space where the board had stood was bare. Something shifted inside me. All those humiliations, expensive clothes, lectures they were a game I could endure. This, however, struck at the sorest spot, the very thing I held sacred.
I emerged to find my motherinlaw and Karen in the lounge, sipping tea, chatting about an upcoming trip to Italy. They looked up, probably expecting tears, a hysterical plea for the boards return.
But I was calm.
MrsHarper, I said, voice steady, you said you gave the board to the gardener. Please call him. I want it back.
She raised her eyebrows.
Annie, dont be childish. Why do you need that rubbish? Luke will come, well buy you new, beautiful ones. Ivory, if you like.
I dont want ivory, I cut in. I need those pieces. Theyre my fathers memory.
Karen snorted.
My God, such drama over wooden pieces. Mother, tell her the gardener already left.
Yes, hes already gone, MrsHarper seized the lifeline. So forget it. Its just a thing.
Her condescending smile was the last straw. I took my phone, dialled a number I had saved a few days earlier a luxury estate agent.
Hello, this is Anna. We spoke about the townhouse in Richmond Park. Ive decided. Im ready to make an offer.
Silence fell in the lounge. MrsHarper and Karen froze, cups midair, faces draining.
Yes, the price is fine. Ill email proof of funds in five minutes. No mortgage needed personal funds.
I spoke straight into my motherinlaws stunned eyes. Confusion turned to alarm.
And one more thing, I added, ending the call. Ill need a good landscape designer and a gardener. Make sure he doesnt discard other peoples things.
I placed the handset down, smiled for the first time in weeks the smile of a player who has just delivered a checkmate.
Karens voice trembled. What was that? What townhouse? Where would you get that kind of money?
Is this a joke? MrsHarper ventured, her calm evaporating. Annie, this is a very foolish joke.
I took an almond biscuit from the plate.
Its no joke. I won the prize at the world chess championship.
Karen laughed, a nervous, strangled sound.
Chess? You? Dont make me laugh. Youre just Annie.
Yes, Im just Annie, I agreed calmly. Ive played chess all my life, like my father taught me, on the very board you gave to the gardener.
At that moment George entered, drawn by the commotion.
Whats happening?
Dad, shes lost it! Karen squealed. She says shes buying a townhouse and won millions in chess!
He looked at me, then at his wife and sister. He was the only one not laughing; calculation flickered in his eyes.
What money, Annie? he asked in a businesslike tone.
One point five million dollars, I answered evenly.
He let out a low whistle. MrsHarper gasped, hand to her mouth. Their tidy little world was crumbling.
Just then the front door banged. Luke stood in the doorway, having come home a day early to surprise us.
Mom, Dad, Im home! Whats
He stopped when he saw our faces. His mother rushed to him.
Luke, thank God youre here! Your wife shes saying the most incredible things!
What am I saying, MrsHarper? I stood. The truth?
Luke looked at me, confused.
Annie, whats happened?
I told him everything the poor waif comment, the handmedowns, the lectures, the tossed chessboard. When I finished, Luke turned to his mother.
Mother. Is this true? You threw away her fathers board?
Luke, but it was just old junk! I meant well! she babbled.
Meant well? His voice hardened. For three weeks youve been humiliating my wife behind my back, treating her like a voiceless orphan you could mould as you pleased?
He looked at his father, at his sister; they were silent, eyes down. Their swagger evaporated.
And you, he said to me, admiration, pain, bewilderment in his gaze, kept quiet through all of this? And you won the world championship? Annie who are you? Why did I know nothing?
Because this was my game, Luke. Not ours. I had to finish it myself. I love you, but Im not who you all thought I was.
I took his hand.
I cant live here any longer.
I began packing. Ten minutes later Luke entered with a suitcase.
Im coming with you. Forgive me, for them and for being blind.
He helped gather my few belongings and the ridiculous branded dresses Id never worn. We walked through the lounge; the family remained frozen, as if turned to stone.
Were leaving, Luke said. And I ask you not to bother my wife again, ever.
We stepped out without looking back. In the car, Luke held my hand.
One point five million pounds youre richer than I am now, he halfsmiled.
Its never about the money, I replied, watching the city lights blur. It never was.
He nodded. He understood it was about the right to be ourselves, about respect, something you cant buy or be given, only earned. They tried to teach me breeding. Instead I taught them a lesson: true breeding isnt about designer bags or expensive cars; its the spine that keeps you from bending, the quiet move that leads to checkmate.
Six months later we live in our new townhouse. Sunlight floods the spacious living room where, on a special Kilmarnock oak table, sits my old chessboard. Luke found the gardener the very next day; the man hadnt given it away to his grandchildren but stored it in his shed, unable to discard it. Luke paid ten times its modest value and brought it back his silent apology for his family.
We never discuss the past; theres no need. Luke saw it with his own eyes, and that was enough. His parents now keep a cold, polite distance, occasionally calling to invite themselves over to see our palace. MrsHarper still calls me our brilliant Annie in every conversation, but Luke is firm. You didnt respect my wife when you thought she was poor. I wont let you be hypocrites now you know shes rich.
One day Karen tried to corner me outside a supermarket. Listen, Annie I have a business idea. Maybe youd invest? Youre an investor now, she said, smiling fawnishly.
I shook my head. No, Karen. Im not an investor. Im a chess player. I never invest in losing games.
I opened an online chess school for children, calling it Quiet Move. It quickly grew, and I found my selfrealisation not in shuffling papers in an office, but in teaching youngsters to think, calculate, and respect their opponent.
One evening Luke and I sat on the terrace. He read, I set up pieces for tomorrows lesson.
You know, sometimes I wonder, he said without looking up, what if you hadnt won that money? What if theyd kept onI realized that regardless of wealth or whispers, the true victory was the quiet confidence that now guided every move I made.
