Although Margaret was the perfect daughter-in-law and wife, she managed to unravel not only her marriage but also herself
Margaret had been an orphan, growing up in a charity-run childrens home outside Oxford. She married young, at just eighteen, with no clue what it meant to be a wife or to live as part of a family, for she didnt even have a single friend with a married home. Arriving at her husbands cramped London flat, she hungrily absorbed every nugget of knowledge about how to be the ideal wife. Her husbands mother was her main guide in this strange new world.
Of course, Margaret had heard many a tale, whispered among girls, about wicked mothers-in-law. Still, lacking a mother of her own, she hoped her new mother-in-law would wish her well and act as a stand-in. In some sense, she was not wholly mistaken; her mother-in-law did not actually wish her ill, but somehow things always became complicated. Eagerly, her mother-in-law began teaching her the rules of family life, pronouncing ancient wisdom: Its the wifes fault if her husband strays.
Why? Margaret had always felt that blame belonged to the one who chose to cheat. In her new world, things appeared different. A wife, she was told, was responsible for her husbands wanderings simply because she had somehow let herself go and failed to appeal to him as a woman ought to. Her mother-in-law advised her, even in old age, to keep her waist wasp-slender; so Margaret scribbled dont gain weight into her diary and joined a fitness club.
Margaret was already slim and neat, but terrified of growing plump she began dieting. No sooner had she absorbed this lesson than her mother-in-law bestowed another pearl: In a decent household, both husband and wife earn.
Margaret did not protest; she wished for this herself. She would have accepted any job that came her way. When, a year later, she timidly asked about how to cope during maternity leave, her mother-in-law simply sniffed, Thats your concern; find your own way!
Margaret forgot to record this kernel of advice, but years down the road, when she was at home on leave, she also started work as a part-time nanny. Margaret found satisfaction in this, but both her husband and mother-in-law soon began grumbling that she brought in too little money.
She told herself quietly she could spend what she earned on something for herself, like a trim at the hairdressers, but yet another sermon arrived: Why bother primping on maternity leave? Do your hair and face when you return to worknow is the time to save!
Margaret handed all her money to her husband. Throughout the years, her mother-in-laws wisdom never ceased: A good wife manages all the housework herself!
And so it wasMargaret did everything alone. She was constantly worn to the bone with fatigue, yet forced herself to manage every single chore without complaint. Fainting spells became routine. Often, after the final child had drifted to sleep at nine, she would tackle the cleaning and prepare meals for the next day. Meanwhile, her husband had already curled up for his tenth cat-nap, exhausted from earning the pounds.
Thus, it was only fitting that Margaret landed in hospital. She never had time to notice niggling aches, nor realise when a passing pain signaled something grave. She remained in hospital more than a fortnight, never visited by husband or mother-in-law. Fortunately, she had her mobile in her dressing gown pocket and rang her childhood friend, who quickly brought her the things she needed. On the day she left hospital, Margaret marched straight to the solicitors and filed for divorce.
