A Terrifying Discovery in Mums Stew
Mum peeked into the pot and let out a horrified scream
Margaret woke at dawn and, as usual, headed to the kitchen of her home in the Surrey suburbs. To her surprise, her daughter-in-law was already bustling by the stove.
Morning, smiled Emily, stirring something in the pot.
Morning, Margaret grumbled, wrinkling her nose. What on earth are you making?
Leek and potato soup, replied Emily without looking up. William loves it.
Leek and potato? Margaret sniffed suspiciously. Since when does it smell like *that*?
Hows it meant to smell, then? Emily shrugged, covered the pot, and slipped out of the kitchen.
Margaret didnt waste a second. She darted to the stove, lifted the lid, and peered inside. What she saw made her shriek in terror.
What *is* this concoction? she whispered, recoiling as if it were poison.
Emily returned with bowls and, noticing her mother-in-laws reaction, said calmly, Leek and potato soup, Margaret. The vegs from our gardenfreshly picked. Cooking with your own produce feels like a proper celebration.
Celebration? Margaret scoffed, crossing her arms. That gardens just a chore! Who wastes time digging in dirt when you can buy everything at Tesco? Ill never understand you.
I love it, Emily said softly, ladling the soup. The scent of thyme, leeks, and butter filled the kitchen. The earth gives you energy when you work with it.
Energy? Margaret rolled her eyes. Its a hobby for people with too much time. Normal folk She cut herself off as Emily kept *smiling*, as if ignoring the jabs. And whyve you made so much?
For us, Emily replied. Itll last days. William always has seconds.
Margaret stepped back dramatically, as if the smell made her ill. I wont touch that! she declared. Just the stench turns my stomach! Whatve you put in it?
Emily sighed, avoiding her gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted William entering the kitchen, watching silently.
Margaret couldnt fathom what had happened to her son. Two years ago, William was a sharp young tech professional in London. Theyd visit galleries, discuss new bistros, plan his career. Now? This countryside life, the garden, this plain *Emily*! Even her name made Margaret bristle.
William had always been a catchtall, clever, charming. How many well-bred girls had sighed over him! Why choose some country girl and this tiny cottage? Margaret hoped hed grow bored and move back to the city. But months passed, and William sank deeper into this rural fantasy.
Shed had enough. Emilys invitation was her chance. Her plan? Remind her son who he *really* wasbefore it was too late.
William walked in, hugged his wife, and turned to his mother. Mum, try the soup. Emily makes it perfectly.
William, Margaret snapped, you know your father and I never ate peasant food. You used to *gag* at leek soup as a boy. Called it old peoples slop.
Emily bit back a smile, picturing little William pushing his bowl away. But now he was a man, and his tastes had changed.
Times change, Mum, he laughed. Emilys soup is a masterpiece. Try it.
*Masterpiece*? Margaret spluttered. You call a pot of leeks a *masterpiece*? Real masterpieces are in theatres, galleriesnot this *stewpot*!
