Mother-in-law
Edith Margaret was a woman of imposing presence. She didnt walk, she strode. Her gaze wasnt just a lookit was a stare that could freeze you. Her words werent mere sentences, but pronouncements. If you put her on a pedestal, shed be less a lady and more a statue worthy of Westminster.
She managed a food distribution business, had two stints in prison for disorderly conduct and one for accidental manslaughter, and raised three daughters, each born between her incarcerations. And, naturally, she had three sons-in-law.
After each wedding, Edith read out to the new son-in-law his rights and obligations, along with a well-detailed list of punishments for breaking them.
Its worth noting that Edith wasnt one for petty quarrelsshe valued her peace of mind. Her daughters were strictly forbidden from bothering her with trivial matters; they were to learn to solve their own problems. Only the disappearance of something or someone important, or the need to hide a body, was worthy of her attention.
The sons-in-law had learned to appreciate her policy of non-interference; they didnt try their luck with her, since interacting with Edith was more trouble than it was worthafter all, crime of passion might as well have been tattooed across her forehead.
Ediths youngest son-in-law, Oliver, didnt spend much time with her, and so he had little fear of her. Living with his family in the neighbouring town, he considered himself independent and freeright up until he decided to participate in his bosss Saturday night fun and agreed to join him at the local spa with three colleagues.
Oliver told his wife hed be late at workhad something to finish up. His more experienced colleagues took greater precautions. One brought fishing rods and a tent from home, claiming he was heading off on a fishing trip with mates, and had a bucket of live fish delivered for his wife. Two others packed laptops for a night of online tank battles. Only the boss made no effort to hide the spa trip from his wife.
As midnight approached, drinking and steaming grew tiresome, so the lads decided to spice things up and chipped in for prostitutes. Their budget allowed for only two, and the women were so unattractive that the boss wanted to swap them for someone prettier, but the group decided theyd rather spend the money on more vodka.
By midnight, Ediths youngest daughter, thoroughly anxious, finally decided to call her mother.
Speak quickly and to the point, Ive got a lorry unloading, Edith said.
Mum, Oliver hasnt come home from work, his phones switched off; I cant reach his colleagues or his boss. Something mustve happened to him!
Oh for heavens sake, that silly fool! Dont fret, love, Ill sort it out!
Edith gave instructions to her warehouse managers, started her car, and headed for the neighbouring town, making several calls as she drove.
Within half an hour, she knew exactly which spa her son-in-law was in and with whom, and, another half hour later, she was outside the town. Fifteen minutes after that, accompanied by a frightened spa attendant, she barged into the bored group. The energy in the room was instantly revived, and Oliver gained a very convincing alibi in the form of several bruises and a broken tooth.
The boss tried to assert control: What do you think youre doing, madam? Who are you? Im calling the police!
Unfortunately for him, he didnt know Edith. She stopped kicking Oliver, grabbed a knife from the table with one hand and clutched the bosss throat with the other.
Just try it, you idiot! Ill cut your tongue out! Im this fools mother-in-law!
Silence, you daft lot! she snapped at the prostitutes squealing at the sight of the knife, spinning it in her palm as she marched toward her son-in-law.
So, whats bothering you in your pants, Oliver?
Mum! Oliver pleaded, scrambling to the corner, You wouldnt do that!
And what would stop me?
I havent cheated on your daughter! Ask anyone here!
Edith glanced at the prostitutes.
No one cheated, the boss rasped, rubbing his neck.
I can see thatthese girls are dreadful! Whyd you bring such sorry sorts?
She poured vodka into a glass and handed it to Oliver.
Drink up. Anaesthetic.
Oliver, teeth rattling on the glass, swallowed.
Whats this chaos about? Speak!
We just wanted to unwind, said the boss, but it didnt go well. It was boring. And the prostitutes were pretty grim.
Seating herself at the table, Edith cut a thick slice of pork pie.
Honestly, lads, you lot havent a shred of imagination, chewing, she nodded toward the fishing rods, Whats this? Straight from Ann Summers?
Its my alibi, said the fisherman.
Is this as well? She nudged the bucket of live fish with her foot.
Yes.
Fair playyou thought ahead. Where would you all be without me? But fortune favours you tonight.
She tipped the bucket into the spa pool; the fish scattered at once.
Here we go, Edith handed a rod to the fisherman and another to the tank battler, You two will fish. Hey, girls! In the waterearn your keep!
The prostitutes hurriedly splashed into the pool.
Rules are simple: men fish with rods, girls use their hands. Whoever catches something leaves here whole.
You, she pointed at the second tank battler, keep score. The boss and I are taking bets. Im backing the one in the yellow swimsuitshell catch first.
No way! piped in the boss. Im betting on Mickhes a proper angler.
Oi, Yellow! Edith called, Youll get a proper days wage bonus if youre first to catch a fish.
And what about me? protested the second prostitute.
Youll get a bonus if you catch more than Yellow.
Half an hour later, the spa attendant cautiously peeked in. The room was alive with noise, laughter, and shouting. The girls were snatching fish bare-handed, Mick baited his rod with a bit of bread, a tank battler was hunting prostitutes, Oliver and the other tank battler were wielding a huge towel as a seine trying to catch something. The boss stood at the poolside, excitedly directing the effort.
Edith sent a text to her daughter: unknown thugs attacked her husband as he was coming home, he was beaten up but alive, currently giving a statement to the police. Shed bring Oliver home as soon as everything was sorted. The message ended: love, Mum. And yes, her daughters peace of mind meant more to Edith than Olivers broken tooth or her own sleepless night at the spa. Still, she transferred a warm sum in pounds to Olivers account for dental workhe wasnt at fault, but let it serve as a caution for future adventures.
