The Second Mother-in-Law
A woman in a cleaners smock quietly peeks into the private office of the owner of Eclipse Aesthetic Surgery Clinic. Her name is Janet, and right now shes doing her best to speak softly to avoid upsetting the management.
I heard theres a vacancy for a junior massage therapist.
Timothy Graham looks up from his papers and glares at her. His temper is already frayed: only moments ago he was told that crucial negotiations with investors have fallen through, and a pounding headache is making everything worse.
And what, youmop in handthink you can start giving clients massages now?
No, but Ive finished online courses. And I wrote a CV, Janet says, timidly handing him her rather crumpled piece of paper, tugged from her pocket.
Just then, Timothys deputy, Leo Stafford, walks into the office. Timothy, massaging his temples, explodes:
Leo! Why are cleaners wandering about as they please? Chuck her out of my office! The cleaner fancies herself some great massage therapist! Get rid of her, and see that she doesnt come pestering again with such nonsense!
Without waiting for a reply, he grabs Janets paper, rips it to shreds, and throws the bits at her feet.
Janet, lips trembling, crouches down to pick up the sad remains, her eyes swimming with tears. Leo grabs her by the elbow without ceremony, practically drags her past visitors and staff, and shoves her into the storage cupboard.
Janet collapses on the edge of an old fire-sand box, crying helplessly.
She hasnt been at Eclipse long. Janet never dreamt of scrubbing floorsshe simply needed work that paid better, and this place did. Timothy Graham was also considered a respected manrumours said he was a workaholic whod built the clinic from scratch.
That much was true. Graham grew up in a childrens home, never met either parent, and spent his adult life searching for some trace of familyto no avail. But he did manage to become a surgeon, and then an expert in aesthetic medicine. People from across the country, including London actresses and socialites, flocked to see him for a high fee. He raised his prices every year and wanted for nothing.
Thats why Janet had dared: she heard of the vacancy and thought she should at least try.
Janet had always longed to be a massage therapist, reading textbooks and doing whatever distance learning she could manage. But without an official diploma, she couldnt work in the field. Shed saved up for real training, but then her husband ran off with every penny, leaving her alone with their little daughter.
It turned out later that Shaun had a record for petty crimes and had been spinning lies about his background. The divorce dragged on forever; he never showed up at court. For the sake of her Sophie, Janet endured it all, and thats when her troubles truly began.
With a child in tow, employers werent keen to take her on. The three of themJanet, her daughter, and her mother Annwere crammed into a tiny council flat. Sometimes they had to scrape by on Anns pension alone. Ann was an irrepressible optimist, a former gymnast, stubborn and strong-willed. She took on the burden of looking after Sophie, which finally allowed Janet to work somewhere.
Inching closer to her dream, Janet managed to take an affordable course. The certificate Graham had just torn up was from that very course.
She wipes her tears, gets up, and heads off to finish the floors. Everybody glances at her, whispers spreading. But back home, her mum greets her with good newsSophie has won the drawing competition at nursery school. She really is talented, and Janet tries to buy her good paints and materials. Sophie has been accepted to the local childrens art school, and that still feels like a miracle.
The mop bucket is growing impossibly heavy. As Janet drags it out to empty, shes met by Mr. FrederickFred to everyonethe caretaker, the only person at the clinic who never looked down his nose at her. Hes an older man, always rather amused at how Graham has forgotten his own humble beginnings.
Fred has never been harsh with Janet. On the contrary, he shares his weekend baking, comforts and encourages her. It was only because of him that Janet ever summoned the nerve to go to the clinic owner with her little CV.
She bursts into tears again at the sight of Fred.
Dont cry, lass. Things will change, he soothes.
Id have been better off not bothering, Janet sobs. Now things are only worse.
Grahams not himself today. Try again another day, Fred suggests gently.
They havent just told me not to bother, they said not to set foot near him again, Janet mutters. Why did I go at all? I had this fantasy I could lift myself up, just like him. But he only looks out for his own diploma.
Fred just shrugs. Janet stows away the cleaning things and heads home, fretting over money. Sophies asking for an expensive toy, but where to get it?
When she arrives, the house is not as usual. Ann is in her room, trying hard to hide her tears. Janets heart sinks; her mum is tough and has survived so much. If shes crying, something must be truly awful.
Mum, whats happened? Janet asks anxiously.
Oh, nothing, nothing at all, Ann waves her off.
Mumcome on, tell me, Janet insists.
Ann starts crying.
I went to the GP this morningcheck-up from the theatre group. Everyone was made to go, even wardrobe staff. Well, Ive got a problem. I need surgery, or I wont last a year. The waiting list is endless. We cant pay to go private, not a chance. The tests have to be done in London, tootravel, scans, everything. I suppose my time is up, she sighs.
Mum, dont talk like that, Janet leaps up. Well think of something.
On your cleaners salary and my pension? Ann tries to smile, bitterly. Of course, dear. But you cant make a silk purse out of a sows ear.
Janet lies awake half the night, worrying through options. By morning, shes decided: shell try once more to talk to Graham, no matter what.
But the clinic wont even let her inside. They say shes been let go due to staff cuts, give her three weeks pay at minimum wage and send her packing.
On her way out, Fred insists on giving her his phone number. Janet writes it down, barely thinkingwhat now? She can stretch the money for a month, but after that?
Janets never one to give up. She casually tells her mum about losing the job, as if it were her idea. Then starts trawling for jobs. Everywhere, the wages are laughable for unskilled posts. Then one advert stands out: a companion carer is needed. No medical diploma required, just cooking, cleaning, and personal help.
Janet sighs. Theres no shame in this, either, and applies. An hour later, she gets a callits from an agency, and the client is a wealthy widow.
Janet is told to bring her health and work record to the interview. Before long, shes sitting across from Tara, the stern-looking agency manager.
Lets be clear, Tara says briskly. Our client is difficult. Youd be the tenth companion. Nobody sticks it out.
Janet tenses but stays quiet.
Youll have heard of her, I expectEmma Sanderson. Stage name, of course. She changed surnames repeatedly, keeps her real one secret. Ex-leading lady of our citys opera. Difficult, wealthy, and eccentric. Apparently shes had her pick of benefactors.
I honestly dont mind, Janet says softly. Im in no position to be picky.
If you have a child, bear in mind Miss Sanderson cant abide children. Or animals. She shuffles around with a walker but still expects a companion to wheel her about inside. Three-month probation. Last that, and you get a years contract plus double pay.
Janet nods silently. Even at the base rate, its double what she used to earnher one chance to pull her mum out of trouble.
Shes to start at seven-thirty the next morning.
That evening, Janet searches online for Emma Sanderson. Some ancient theatre programmes appear, photos from a decade ago: a plump woman with jet-black hair and a hawks stare. The images dont prepare Janet for the reality.
The door is opened by a security guard. Emma Sanderson owns an entire mansion in the heart of the city. Janet can hardly believe the sumptuous surroundings.
What are you gawping at? Looking for something to pocket? a shrill voice croaks out.
In the middle of the grand hall, an expensive powered wheelchair glides in. In it sits a frail, shrunken woman, hair now stark white, birdlike, with hawkish eyes.
Good morning, Miss Sanderson, Janet manages.
Speak updont mumble, snaps the lady. Keep your hands where I can see them, and put on those covers for your shoes. My parquet floorings exclusive. Theyre in that bucket. Then hurry up. I need my breakfast.
Janet pulls on not the blue shoe covers from hospitals, but the soft, cloth-like ones more like surgical caps, and scurries after Emma.
Comb my hair. Carefully, Emma barks. Not that! God, youre dense. Take off the net. Then get the wig and brush that.
Sorry, I didnt quite Janet stammers.
Hopeless! Where do they find you? What a factory for fools. Bring me tea, quicknow.
Janet heads to the kitchen.
Dont stomp! screeches Emma. Do you want to go through the floor? Walk quietly, youre working my last nerve!
Emma examines the tea in the light as if searching for poison, then suddenly grimaces and throws the hot tea in Janets face.
You nudged my elbow. Your own fault.
Janet takes a deep breath.
Understood. Where may I wash?
Servants bathroom. First floor, by the door. Towels in there. And leave your clothes for the laundry, take a guest room set.
Janet does as told, changes, and returns. Emma spends the day tormenting the new companioncomplaints, tricks, little humiliations. Janet quickly realises its a test. She says nothing and endures it, sure that Emmas patience for such games is not inexhaustible.
By evening, Emma is spent and calms down. Before bed, Janet gives her a gentle massage and is relieved when Emma finally falls asleep. She moves Emmas wig to its stand and heads out, clocking a surprised glance from the security guard.
The next morning, her replacement greets her cheerfully:
What did you do to the old lady last night? Shes still sleeping like a babyhousekeeper Jenny told me.
Nothing special, Janet shrugs. Maybe she was just tired.
That morning Emma is on top form and immediately criticises Janets taste in clothes, declaring shell never find a man without makeup. Janet quietly continues preparing her wash items; managing the wig goes more smoothly this time.
Emma then demands Janet book a manicure visit, dress her in a Japanese-style robe, and wheel her into the boudoir.
It soon becomes clear what all the fuss is for.
After lunch and manicures, a distinguished, upright, silver-haired gentleman arrivesa friend from years ago named Oswald. Emma insists on being served coffee.
Janet brews it in a gleaming machine, terrified of making a mistake, but manages fine. While Oswald is visiting, Emma is perfectly civil.
Later, she asks:
What did you do for me last night?
Massage, Janet replies softly.
Are you qualified? Emma demands.
No, self-taught.
Very well. Do it again, Emma commands.
Janet finishes the day with another massage. Emma falls fast asleep, and Janet goes home.
Three months of trial employment rush by. Janet has only one day off a week and hardly sees her daughter, but now she affords to let Ann stop workingher mum tires easily these days, after years of heavy work in the theatres wardrobe.
Her relationship with Emma slowly improves. Emma studies her closely, testing her patience and character. One day, unexpectedly, she asks:
How do your family cope with your schedule?
Its just Mum and my daughter, says Janet. No choice, really.
How old? Does she have interests?
Nearly six. Shes got a real talent for drawing, Janet says simply, remembering Taras warning.
Bring her round. Well meet, Emma nods regally.
And so Sophie begins coming to Janets work. Most of the time, she sits quietly with her colouring pencils and pastels. One day, she draws Emmas portrait so well, Emma has it framed and hung on the wall.
Gradually, they all grow closer. Janet stops worrying about losing her job.
Emmas problem is degenerative joint disease; surgery is no use. When shes in pain, Janet massages her for as long as needed, and sometimes it helps. One evening, Emma asks Janet to stay the night with Sophie, giving them a guest room.
Falling asleep to Sophies peaceful breathing, Janet dares to imagine living in this houseshes come to love its old walls, the air thick with memories.
The next day, Emma improves. She breakfasts with Sophie, then sends Janet to tidy the studysays she cant trust the housekeeper with such an important job.
Sorting through Emmas keepsakes and dusting, Janet finds a faded old album. After finishing up, she brings it to Emma in the lounge.
Miss Sanderson, may I look at this?
Back when there was fameand glory, Emma smirks. Lets have a look. Its been a while.
The three of them sit at the round table. The first pages show Emmas childhood. Suddenly, Sophie exclaims:
Look, thats Grandma! We have this photo!
Janet stares at the album in disbelief. On the page is her own mother, Ann, as a young woman.
How did you get this? Janet breathes.
Emma squints, looking at Janet closely.
Youre Annies daughter, arent you? she finally says. No wonder you looked familiar. Old fool that I am.
You knew my mum? Janet asks intently.
Emma lets out a short laugh. Of course. We were best friends. Shed sneak away from gym, I from conservatoire. We went to dances together, grew up in the same courtyard. Started gymnastics together, but she was much better. I never wanted to be second-best.
So why did you stop being friends? asks Sophie innocently.
Grew up. Your grandmother had a dashing coach, Ian. We fell out over him. He chose me instead. Ended up my first husbandleft soon, but I kept his name. Annie lost her place on the squad over him.
I never knew that whispers Janet.
I was originally Stafford, Emma says. Can you believe it? Ians surname was Sanderson. Thats whose name I kepteven after he went.
From that moment, Janet thinks only of reuniting the two friends. The opportunity soon arises.
Emma once again insists Janet and Sophie stay overnight. The next morning, Sophie needs to go on a nursery trip, so Janet asks Ann to collect her.
Ann arrives at Emmas in her patched old coat. Emma is getting ready for bed but emerges as Janet packs Sophies drawing things.
Whos here? I wasnt expecting anyone, Emma snaps.
Hello, Emma, Ann says, cool as ever. Not exactly thrilled to see you.
Likewise, Emma smirks. Lifes given you a beating, clearly.
No more than anyone, Ann replies. At least I have a daughter and granddaughter. Youve only strangers to look after you now. Married all those times for nothing?
You never even had that, Emma retorts. Still holding onto your maiden name, I see.
Ann suddenly smiles.
Oh, Emma, you still dont get it. I always followed your career, even felt proudimagine! That our girl from the old block made it on stage. I never did you a bad turn. Remember that call five years ago?
Emma pales.
When that chancer from the childrens theatre was after you, about to persuade you to sign over the house. I overheard him bragging his plan to dump you in a nursing home and bring in his young mistress, so I rang up and disguised my voice. Simple as that.
So that was you warning me? Emma gasps.
Never could hate you, Ann sighs. I always felt sorry. Artistic souls arent like the rest of us. But I couldnt let you be tricked then.
Emma lowers her gaze.
You saved me, she says softly. He completely bewitched me. After your warning, I hired an investigator.
Well done, Ann nods. Look, we have to go. Sophies tired.
Wait, Ann. How are you living now? Emma asks, a bit awkward.
In a council flat, since the block was cleared. Nothing like your mansion, but enough for us, Ann replies.
Right, thats ittomorrow, youre moving in here, Emma says abruptly. Theres too much room. Ive always wanted to fix up a proper childrens bedroom for Sophie. No arguments. We have a lot to talk about. Who knows how much time two old girls like us have leftI know my limit already.
Ann sinks onto the bench, tired.
Less than a year.
What do you mean? Emma freezes. Cancer?
No, heart. But theres no money for surgery, not for me, Ann sighs. Cant buy health. Not in my case.
Sorted, then. Youll move in, and well see. I still owe you. By the way, I regret pinching Ian from you.
You might as well drag up that good-looking Bobbie from school! Ann laughs. Well go now, but tomorrow well decide.
My drivers taking you home, Emma says firmly. And tomorrow hell collect your bags, with Janets help.
That night, Emma cant sleep, asking Janet about Anns illness, reminiscing and regretting her wasted years. Her friends kindness has melted her hard heart.
Within a week, the mansion transforms. Couriers arrive with wallpaper samples, fabric swatches, and furniture catalogues. Emma throws herself into the move-in project.
Every evening, she and Ann sit at the great oval table, sipping tea and telling old tales. When the move and redecorating are done, Emma suddenly announces at dinner:
Ann, Ive shown your records to my doctor. Youll have surgery in two weeks. The surgeon is a bright young man, the professors son. Do try not to flirt with him too much.
Youve managed to get me a place? Ann is astonished. But why?
No queue-jumping. Im paying. Too late to refuse, Emma waves away the protest. Youre having that operation. Sophie needs an energetic grandma, since her second nana is dropping to bits.
Oh Emma, why spend all that Ann wipes her eyes. You shouldnt have
What do I need money for now? Cant take it with me. End of story. Youre going in for surgery; Janet will care for you, and Ill look after Sophie. Honestly, after your massagesI really do feel better.
Two weeks later, Ann is in the best private room in towns finest hospital. The surgeon is Dr. Valentine Fairfaxa promising young cardiac surgeon, a professors son who chose his own path. Hes simple and pleasant. Watching Janet look after her mum, he says one day:
Im rarely moved by such warmth in a family. Your mothers a lucky woman. I expect her husband was lucky, too. And any children.
I just have Sophie, my daughter, Janet admits shyly. But shes the best in the world.
I believe it, Valentine smiles. I didnt manage so well. Married young despite warningsturns out my wife just wanted a professors son and big money. When I started out in a rented flat in the provinces, love evaporated quickly.
I think youll still meet your match, Janet says softly.
Maybe I already have, Valentine murmurs, turning to the window.
Janet surprises herself by seeing Valentine in a new light. Hes not a dashing rogue like her ex, but theres strength, grace, and, above all, empathy in his face.
Anns rehab takes a week. All this time, Emma tries to cope alone, caring for Sophie too. The girl now calls her Nana as if she were her real grandmother.
Emma pretends shes fine, but Janet knows better as she massages her in the eveningsEmmas tired muscles grow tighter, getting around the house harder every day.
One evening, Emma says:
Its time you stopped working for me.
Are you hiring someone else? Janet is alarmed.
No, silly girl, Emma chuckles. I want you to train properly as a therapist. At the best local college, diploma and all. Will you do it?
Of course! Janet nods eagerly. But thats so expensive
Think of me as your fairy godmother, Emma jokes. Besides, its practical for me to have an in-house therapist. Ill pay for your therapy and rehab training, all the courses. Just dont let me down.
Janet agrees. Emma is practically keeping the family now, but Janet is determined to pay this faith back. She knows its not charity if you make the most of the opportunity.
On her new course, the main tutor is Simon Allen, a distinguished, seasoned therapist. He singles Janet out as a talented student, and at graduation, surprises her:
Youve heard of Vanilla Spa?
Everyone wants to work there, Janet smiles. Best in the city, though it only recently opened.
I own it, Simon grins. Took the plunge to set up on my own. Care to join the team? We focus on rehab after injury or surgeryhard work, needs strong, careful hands. I know you fit the bill.
Janet tries not to cry from happiness as she accepts.
She works even harder now. Simon Allen personally pays for her next round of specialist training, calling it a scholarship. Before long, Janets an indispensable part of the team at Vanilla. The hours suitmornings at work, afternoons with recovering Ann and Emma, ferrying Sophie to art school.
Six months later, clients come specifically for Janet. Her reputation grows beyond the owners.
Meanwhile, things with Valentine have developed from friendship to something deeper. Having transferred to the city to lead cardiology, Valentine dreams of more than endless wards and surgeries. On weekends, the three of them go to the circus, the childrens theatre, and wander the parks.
Ann is back at work, but Emma spends more days in bed. The pain has increased, only soothed by Janets massages for a while.
Valentine refers his post-operative patients to Janet for rehab. She learns more about cardiac recovery, giving her and Valentine an endless array of things to discuss.
Valentine is often in Emmas home, where Janet and Sophie are now truly at home. He has, in a sense, received Emmas blessing.
Dont you dare let my girls down, Emma warns dryly.
