Today was one of those days when the ordinary suddenly twists into something more. I was walking home from the shops, clutching my bags, chatting with my neighbour Margaret, as we strolled along the lane. As we reached my little gate, there it was: a gleaming car parked right outside the house. I straightened my back and lifted my chin with no small amount of pride.
Oh, looks like my soon-to-be son-in-law has paid us a morning visit, I told Margaret with a little flourish.
She eyed the car with a funny looka hint of suspicion in her eyes. Are you calling him your future son-in-law already, Alice? He hasnt even proposed to your Emma. For all we know, he might be dodgy. A charmer, maybe even a scoundrel
I tutted, waving her off, pursing my lips tightly. Dont be ridiculous. Hes a decent bloke, and his intentions with Emma are serious. Right, must dash. Time for tea and a treatIve just bought biscuits perfect for our guest.
I gathered my groceries and half-ran down the path to home. Margaret watched me go, her expression sharp with disapproval.
So thats it, is it? No wonder she splurged on the expensive cheese and chocolate biscuits. Didnt realise she was rolling out the red carpet for her guest. Desperate to marry off poor dim Emma, I suppose.
***
As I came inside, a smile broke across my face. There was Emma, looking radiant, sitting next to himour guest. The prospective son-in-lawMichael. He was leaning toward her, his gaze fixed on her face, lost in conversation. When I banged the door, he jolted up and stepped back. Clearly, theyd been admiring each other.
Michael was charming and polite as always, having brought Emma flowers, a box of chocolates, and perfume in a smart box.
He was almost bowing to meso respectful! I didnt take my eyes off him for a second.
My dear, hes so handsome! A bit of silver at the temples, but if anything, it makes him more distinguished. An aristocrat through and through! I whispered ecstatically to Emma later.
She smiled at me, holding back a laugh. He *is* an aristocrat, Mum.
So, my love, has he finally come to propose? Arrived with gifts and flowers? I pressed.
Emmas face clouded. No, Mum. He hasnt proposed. He just asked me to the theatre in town. Wanted me to go on a proper date.
My smile vanished. Asked you on a date, did he? Let me tell you, I know their type. These city men, with their smooth talk, running around with all sorts of women and then swanning back to find someone new to toy with. Youve snagged yourself a right Casanova, I reckon. Its been two months, Emmastill no mention of a wedding!
Mum
What, Mum? Youre thirty, and he must be heading towards forty! Why wont he just ask you to marry him? Whats he waiting for, stringing you along like this?
Mum, well sort this out ourselves.
Dont you backtalk melisten to your mother! I snatched the slice of ham from her hand, frowning.
Put that back, girl. Think of your figure! And anyway, this is for tea with your Michael. Hell be back soon enough, and what sort of host would I be if I had nothing to offer?
Emma fixed me with those striking blue eyes. Quietly, she asked, Mum, why are you always cross? What have I done?
I packed the ham away in the fridge and started clattering plates, tidying the table. Snatching up the cheese and chocolates too, I looked at her, my heart heavy.
Im worried, thats what. Everyone in the village sees him calling round, but what if he walks away after all this? Youre not a girl anymorepeople are already calling you a spinster! Just because of this aristocrat and his little visits, other potential suitors wont bother now.
Emma just smiled softly. Dont fret, Mum. Hes not going anywhere, I promise.
***
A week later, I was packing Emmas suitcase, wiping tears from my eyes. All this time, I thought she was waiting for the right moment, doing things properly. Turns outwell, theres no such thing. My daughter is expecting a baby.
When I asked her how it all happened, she smirked mischievously.
He used to drive me out to the woods to pick berries. Hed wait by the edge for meto take me home, you know. He found me so pretty
In the woods, was it? Really? Tell me everything this minutewhen did I fail in your upbringing? I spluttered, torn between laughing and crying.
She nibbled at the ham and cheese, grinning. Doesnt matter, Mum! What matters is, hes marrying me!
Well invite the whole family, mind you! I sniffled. Oh, how can I bear to let you go, love? Youre my only child.
Ill visit you often, Mum, I promise
Neighbours started pouring in, banging on the door, excited. Alice, we hear Emmas off to town to get married and you said nothing!
Shes leaving, I bustled about distractedly.
Well, weve come without giftsshouldve given us warning!
No need for giftsshes just going to the city with her fiancé.
What wonderful news!
***
Off she went, my darling girlher Michael drove her right into London.
Emma would call and describe the grand house she now lived in. *Michaels* houseor, at least, thats what we all believed. I waited day after day for news of a wedding, but none came.
First a month passed, then another, then six months and then one day Margaret came running to me, breathless, declaring that shed seen Emma in London, pushing a pram. I nearly fainted.
With a pram? How could this be?
The next thing I knew, I was throwing on my coat, barely remembering even the journey to the bus station.
There it wasa granddaughter! A granddaughter called Sophie, and Emma hadnt even told me!
I called her the minute I arrived in town, hands shaking. At least in London, you can count on some phone signal. Not like the village.
She didnt answer, or kept hanging upbut that only made me see red.
Where *are* you? I yelled down the phone, barely caring what the strangers on the platform thought. Im at the station, come and collect me! And kindly explain why youve had a child and not so much as breathed a word to your own mother!
She came in a cab, eyes downcast, looking sheepish.
Mum, Im sorry, I just didnt know how to explain. Ive had a little girlSophie. Shes the spitting image of you
And where are you living now? Still with Michael?
In the house. Its Michaels house. Actually, his mothers house. We live with her.
Well?
I glared at her, feeling betrayed.
Are you ashamed of me, Emma? Is that what it is?
She flinched. Of course not, Mum! It isnt like that at all. Its justMichael lives with his mother. The house and the car, theyre hers. And she wouldnt let him marry me, Mum.
***
I marched into that house determined to set things straight. What sort of mother prevents her son from marrying the mother of his child?
I barely glanced at Michael or even my new granddaughterstraight to business. Emma pointed me to the music room, where Michaels mother was sitting at her grand piano on the first floor.
I coughed to get her attention, but she wouldnt look up, so I stalked in and closed the piano lid.
She turned, sharp and elegant, poker-faced. What on earth is going on? she snapped. And who are you?
Im Emmas mum! I announced, cross as anything. And how dare you play that thing when my granddaughter is trying to sleep!
For Sophie? Shes slept already, the woman said, barely moving her lips. She added, Depends how you look at it as to whos disturbing whom.
You mean to say a little babys a bother to you? I barked. Theres a simple solutionyou could move to your own place and sleep soundly!
Why should I move from my own house, madam?
Because youre making life awkward for the young ones.
Me, a bother? She lifted one eyebrow in surprise. No one forces them to stay. The doors over therethey can leave anytime.
You mean nothing to your granddaughter? I said, aghast.
She fixed me with an icy gaze. Whats your name? Alice? Well, Alice, maybe you can tell me why *I* should bother about your daughter and granddaughter when theyve got you and Michael? Ive already given your Emma the most precious thing I havemy son. But I see thats not enough for you. Now youre here to drive me out?
She rose to her full height. Ill have you thrown out if you act up. And if youre not careful, the four of youdaughter, granddaughter, son-in-lawcan all pack up and leave for the countryside.
With voices getting sharp, Michael burst in, looking frightened.
Er, Mum, Alice, do come to the dining room. Emmas made tea for you.
***
They say a cup of tea smooths over all troubles. I sat glaring across the table at herMichaels mother, sipping her tea, eyes narrowed in thinly veiled amusement.
*Ill outlast you yet,* I muttered to myself with dark resolve.
Michael clearly sensed the tension, giving Emma troubled glances under the table.
Tame your mother, wont you? his eyes seemed to say. Emma knew this couldnt go onmy bulldozing, her being squeezed out of her own life.
She took me aside, shutting us in Michaels study while that woman hammered away on the piano upstairs.
Mum, she whispered, we need to talk!
Whats left to say? I huffed. Youre getting nowhere with her, and I see she runs rings round you both!
Emma looked away. Shes not Michaels mother, Mum. Shes his wifehis *only* wife.
My world lurched. What? How? Why would you?
Emma gazed at me, that sadness burning in her eyes.
You see how wealthy Michael is, Mum. All of ithers. He married her twenty years ago, she was close to fifty. No children. She cant have them. He tolerated it for years, but eventually… she let him take a mistress. Thats me. Michaels not been her husband, really, for yearsmore like housemates.
I stared around the roomgilt wallpaper and thick velvet curtains, heavy books lining the walls. So many books, enough for a small library, sheer opulence everywhere I looked.
All this is hers, Emma went on sadly. I didnt get it at first, but after living here, I see it. When I started making a fuss, thinking like you that she was Michaels mother, he finally told me the truth.
Thats shameful! I exploded. Why stay with him?
Emma lifted her chin, steady as ever. Oh Mum, he wanted a family, real children. She would never agree. Hes barely lived with her as a proper husband for years. She permitted himpermitted!to have someone like me.
Well, Ive heard enough. I stood, deciding in a flash. Get your things, pack up the baby, were going home to the village!
She just shrugged, setting her jaw. Oh, Mum, Im not going anywhere. I like my life. Ill stay with Michael. One day his wife will pass on, and hell marry me properly.
And until then shell make your life hell!
Let her, Mum. This is my choice, my life.
Fine! Live here, barely above a lodger, and dont expect me to watch it. Im going. I wont be part of this!
***
My days dragged by after thatnothing but gossip from neighbours. Margarets daughter got married, had a son. I found myself going round there to play with her grandson, sighing for my own Emma, for little Sophie.
In the end, I couldn’t bear it. I locked up the house and went to London.
I lingered outside those fancy gates, hiding, watching for a glimpse. And saw my Sophie, all grown so quickly, running through that grand garden with two poodles bouncing after her, shrieking Granny! Granny!but calling that *woman* granny.
That made something snap inside mejealousy, anger, despair.
Stepping into the light, I marched to the gate and banged until they let me in.
***
No one forced me to leave. Even the lady of the house nodded, Theres room enough for everyone in this big place.
We no longer foughtwell, not properlybut sometimes, side by side in the garden, pulling weeds or playing hide and seek with Sophie, wed toss sharp remarks at each other:
Come running, did you? shed tut. Thought I might mistreat your Emma? Quite right. Your daughters a doormat, she needs protecting from me. I could throw her out any day Your daughter must take after her father. Youve some backbone, Ill give you that, even if its a bit flimsy.
Oh, youre due a clout round the ear, even if you do run this place, Id mutter. And who says my backbones weak?
If you were strong, your daughter would come to you, not the other way round. You ran back to hershows youre soft.
Im tougher than youll ever be. Besides, Ive only moved in because youre looking peaky. Wont be long before someones fetching your chamberpot for you, and better me than my Emma.
Shed laugh, a clipped, haughty laugh. Im in excellent health, Alice. Eat well, best doctors and no children to wear me out. Why do you assume Ill be the first to go?
And so it goes. England, for all its old traditions and new heartbreaks, can be a strange, stubborn countrybut family, even if stretched and battered, comes round the long way in the end.
