The Treacherous Surprise: A Mother-in-Law’s Hidden Scheme
Eleanor was still asleep when the sharp knock at the door shattered the morning quiet of their suburban home near Manchester.
“William, get the door,” she mumbled, nudging her husband in the ribs.
“I’m sleeping,” he grunted, pulling the blanket tighter.
With a sigh, Eleanor slipped out from under the warm covers and shuffled to the door in her slippers. When she opened it, she froze—standing on the threshold was her mother-in-law.
“Margaret? What are you doing here?” Eleanor’s eyes widened in shock.
Without a word, Margaret swept past her, leaving a trail of strong perfume in her wake.
“Ellie, who is it?” Rubbing his eyes, William appeared in the hallway.
“Silent, are you? Go on, tell your wife about our little surprise!” Margaret gave her son a mocking smirk.
“What surprise?” Eleanor whipped around to face William, her heart tightening with dread. She knew something was being hidden from her—but she couldn’t imagine the blow that awaited.
“Again?” Eleanor stared at William in despair. “We were just at your mother’s last week, helping with her errands! I’m exhausted, Will—can’t we just have one quiet weekend to ourselves?”
Her voice trembled, her eyes pleading, but William stood firm.
“Ellie, you know how hard it’s been for Mum since Dad passed. She’s alone, struggling. I’m her only son—I have to help.”
“And why has she come *now*?” Eleanor forced herself to stay calm.
“I told you, she needs wallpaper—light beige—and a few other bits for the house.”
“Can’t she order them online?” Eleanor asked hopefully.
“She doesn’t know how. We’ll go this weekend—it’ll be a change of scenery for you.”
“A thrilling day at the hardware shop? What fun!” Eleanor scoffed, bitterness bubbling in her chest.
But she refused to ruin her weekend. Grabbing her phone, she quickly ordered everything on the list, choosing the materials herself and paying for them. All Margaret had to do was accept the delivery. Surely now she’d have no excuse to turn up at their doorstep. The delivery was scheduled for Friday evening, and Eleanor breathed a mental sigh of relief—everything was under control.
Her shock was palpable when Margaret arrived on Saturday morning, laden with enormous bags stuffed with wallpaper and paint tins.
“Did you expect me to carry all this alone?” Margaret fixed Eleanor with an icy stare. “William, didn’t you tell her?”
“Margaret, this was supposed to be a surprise,” Eleanor stammered, still in her pyjamas, standing awkwardly in the hallway.
“Charming,” Margaret sneered before turning to William. “Cat got your tongue? Tell your wife about *our* surprise!”
“What surprise?” Eleanor turned to William, her voice shaking. She could feel her world crumbling.
“I’m moving in with you for a few months,” Margaret announced triumphantly, taking off her coat.
Before Eleanor could process the news, her mother-in-law delivered the final blow.
“And you—you’re coming to *my* cottage.”
Margaret swept into the kitchen like a queen, while Eleanor grabbed William’s arm and hissed,
“What is *this*? What move? We never discussed this!”
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” William shrugged, as if it were nothing. “Mum suggested it. Don’t worry—we’re not going tomorrow.”
Fuming, Eleanor retreated to the bedroom. She wouldn’t argue in front of Margaret, but inside, she was seething. By evening, William finally explained.
“Ellie, think about it—it’s an opportunity! We’ll fix up the cottage just how you like it. It’ll be great for your portfolio, bring in more clients! We’ll stay there while we work. Mum can’t breathe in dust at her age, and someone’s got to supervise.”
“And that someone is *me*?” Eleanor gasped in outrage.
“What’s the problem? You need the work—Mum and I are looking out for you!”
“Looking out for me? Exiling me to the middle of nowhere? I don’t *want* to go! I love our flat!”
“We’re not leaving straight away,” William brushed her off. “You’ve already ordered the wallpaper—we’ll start with one room so Mum’s comfortable.”
“And what about *her* breathing in the dust?” Eleanor shot back.
“We’ll open a window—she won’t notice. Besides, we’re in no position to dictate terms. The flat’s in her name, and the cottage is mine.”
“Only because you never claimed your inheritance!” Eleanor flared.
“Stay out of family business!” William snapped. “Mum and I have it sorted. I’m her only heir—sooner or later, everything will be ours.”
“If the flat was in *your* name, your mother wouldn’t be throwing us out! But now, thanks to your carelessness, we’re stuck in that cottage!”
Margaret, eavesdropping at the door, couldn’t take it anymore. She barged in.
“Hold your tongue!” she barked. “You came here with nothing, and now you’re eyeing up our property?”
“With *nothing*?” Eleanor choked on her fury.
“You’d be destitute without my son! And now you’re making demands?”
“I just want fairness,” Eleanor insisted. “You’ve withheld William’s rights—taken everything! What if *you* remarry?”
“*Me*? Remarry?” Margaret burst into laughter, momentarily disarmed by the unexpected compliment. “Fine. Fix up the cottage, and I’ll put the flat in William’s name. But the cottage stays mine. Happy?”
Eleanor exhaled in relief. William, though upset by the argument with his mother, hid it behind a smile.
“Still feels a bit rude to Mum…” he muttered later in the car.
A week later, they finished renovating one room in the flat and moved to the cottage.
“She’s doing this from the heart, and we…” William lamented.
“And we’re just taking what’s owed,” Eleanor said firmly. “We’ll renovate, and the flat will be ours. Can you imagine?”
The cottage greeted them grimly—faded walls, creaky floors, and endless work ahead. The cost of repairs was daunting.
“It’s fine, we’ll take out a loan,” William reasoned. “We’ll get the flat in the end.”
Reluctantly, Eleanor agreed. She threw herself into the work, overseeing every detail. Slowly, the house transformed, and to her surprise, she fell in love with the process.
“We need a flower garden around the house,” she mused. “At least a rose bed.”
She took to the garden, though it wasn’t part of the plan. Each evening, she’d excitedly tell William about her progress.
“We’ll plant peonies here—I’ve ordered the saplings.”
“Ellie, that’s over budget,” William frowned. “Mum can sort it when she moves back.”
The words stung. She’d poured her heart into this place—and he was already talking about his mother returning?
“Will, what if we *stayed* here?” she ventured timidly. “I love it. The cottage is yours—no need to change anything.”
“But the flat?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s cramped, stuffy. Here, there’s space, fresh air!”
“I’ll talk to Mum,” he promised.
Eleanor was overjoyed. She threw herself into decorating the house, tending the garden, even planting a small vegetable patch. This new life felt perfect—until Margaret arrived unannounced.
“Hello, Margaret,” Eleanor greeted her with a smile, eager to show off the renovations. “No warning?”
“Why should I warn anyone when I’m coming *home*?” Margaret snapped. “You’ve dragged your feet, so I’ve come to check on things.”
“*Home*?” Eleanor faltered. “Did William not tell you? We’re staying here. The cottage is his—no need to change the deeds.”
Margaret paled and sank into a chair.
“You brazen hussy! Stealing my home? I compromised for you, and this is how you repay me? Over my dead body! *I’m* staying here—William’s on my side. Don’t make this ugly—pack your bags!”
Eleanor was speechless. She’d never guessed Margaret cared for this place. She’d always praised their city flat, mocked the countryside as “backward.”
They waited for William in silence, seated across from each other. Neither spoke a word for an hour and a half—each praying he’d side with her.
William arrived grim-faced, and seeing his mother and wife locked in tension, his shoulders slumped.
“What’s happened?” Both women fixed him with piercing stares, making him squirm.
“The firm went under—I’ve lost my job,” he forced out. “We’ll have to stay here, Ellie. The countryside’s cheaper—gardening, no expensiveMargaret let out a resigned sigh, her sharp features softening as she muttered, “I suppose I can manage the flat on my own—for now.”
