A Treacherous Surprise: The Mother-in-Law’s Secret Plan
Emily was still asleep when a sharp knock shattered the quiet of their suburban London flat.
“Oliver, get the door,” she mumbled, nudging her husband in the ribs.
“I’m sleeping,” he grumbled, pulling the duvet tighter.
With a sigh, Emily dragged herself from the warmth of the bed and shuffled to the door in her slippers. When she opened it, she froze—her mother-in-law stood on the threshold.
“Margaret? What are you doing here?” Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Without a word, Margaret brushed past her, leaving a trail of heavy perfume in her wake.
“Em, who is it?” Oliver appeared in the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Not saying a word? Well, tell your wife about our little surprise!” Margaret smirked, her voice laced with amusement.
“What surprise?” Emily spun around to face Oliver, her stomach twisting with dread. She knew they were hiding something, but she couldn’t fathom the blow that awaited her.
—Again?— Emily stared at Oliver in despair. —We were just at your mum’s last week, helping with chores! I’m exhausted, Ollie. Can’t we just have one quiet weekend to ourselves?— Her voice trembled, eyes pleading, but Oliver remained unmoved.
—Em, you know how hard it’s been for her since Dad passed. She’s alone, struggling. I’m her only son. I have to help.—
—Then why is she here?— Emily fought to keep her composure.
—She needs paint. Light beige. And a few other bits for the house.—
—Couldn’t she just order online?— Emily asked hopefully.
—She doesn’t know how. We’ll go this weekend. Make a day of it.—
—A day out at a hardware store? What a thrill!— Emily scoffed, bitterness simmering in her chest.
But she refused to ruin their weekend. Grabbing her phone, she quickly ordered everything for delivery, selecting the materials herself and paying upfront. Now Margaret had no reason to invade their London flat. The delivery was set for Friday evening, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief. It was all under control.
Her shock was palpable when, on Saturday morning, Margaret arrived with bulging shopping bags stuffed with wallpaper and paint tins.
—Did you really expect me to haul this alone?— Margaret’s icy glare cut through Emily. —Oliver, didn’t you tell her?—
—Margaret, it was supposed to be a surprise,— Emily stammered, still in her pyjamas.
—Lovely,— Margaret sneered, turning to her son. —Cat got your tongue? Tell your wife about our surprise!—
—What surprise?— Emily’s voice cracked as she faced Oliver. Her world was about to shatter.
—I’m moving in with you for a few months,— Margaret declared triumphantly, shrugging off her coat.
Before Emily could process the words, her mother-in-law dropped the second bombshell:
—And you’re moving to the countryside.
Margaret swept past her into the kitchen while Emily grabbed Oliver’s arm, hissing furiously:
—What is this? What move? We never discussed this!
—Sorry, didn’t get the chance,— Oliver shrugged like it was nothing. —Mum suggested it. Don’t worry, it’s not happening tomorrow.—
Emily stormed off to the bedroom, fists clenched. Arguing in front of Margaret was out of the question, but rage boiled inside her. Later that evening, Oliver finally explained.
—Em, think about it! It’s an opportunity. We’ll renovate the cottage exactly how you like. Great for your portfolio, more clients! We’ll stay there while we work. Mum can’t handle the dust, and someone needs to oversee things.—
—And that someone is me?— Emily gasped.
—What’s the big deal? You need work, and Mum and I are looking out for you!—
—Looking out for me? By exiling me to the middle of nowhere? I don’t want to go! I love our flat!—
—We’re not leaving straightaway,— Oliver waved her off. —You’ve already ordered the paint. We’ll start with one room, make it nice for Mum.—
—And how will she avoid the dust?— Emily snapped.
—Open a window, she won’t notice. But she’ll supervise. Besides, we’re not in a position to dictate terms. The flat’s in her name, and the cottage is technically mine.—
—Only because you never sorted the inheritance!— Emily flared.
—Stay out of family matters!— Oliver cut her off. —Mum and I have decided. I’m her only heir—it’ll all be ours eventually.—
—If the flat was in your name, she wouldn’t be kicking us out! But because of your negligence, we’re stuck living in that dump!—
Margaret, listening at the door, burst in.
—Enough!— she barked. —You came here with nothing, and now you’re eyeing up our property?—
—Nothing?— Emily choked on the insult.
—Face it, without my son, you’d be penniless! And now you’re making demands?—
—I think it’s fair,— Emily held her ground. —You’ve cut Oliver out of everything! What if you remarry?—
—Me? Remarry?— Margaret cackled, momentarily softened by the unintended compliment. —Fine. Renovate the cottage, and I’ll transfer the flat to Oliver. But the cottage stays mine. Happy?—
Emily exhaled in relief. Oliver, though annoyed by the argument with his mother, forced a smile.
—Still feels a bit wrong…— he muttered later in the car.
The next week, they finished the first room and moved to the countryside.
—She’s being generous, and we’re…— Oliver sighed.
—We’re just claiming what’s ours,— Emily said firmly. —Once we renovate, the flat’s ours. Imagine that!—
The cottage was grim—peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, and endless work ahead. The cost was daunting.
—We’ll take out a loan,— Oliver reasoned. —But we’ll get the flat.—
Reluctantly, Emily agreed. She threw herself into the work, overseeing every detail. Slowly, the cottage transformed, and to her surprise, she fell in love with it.
—We should plant roses out front,— she mused. —Or maybe peonies.—
Tending to the garden became her passion, though it wasn’t part of the plan. Each evening, she gushed to Oliver about her progress.
—I’ve ordered peony saplings for the side garden.—
—Em, that’s over budget,— Oliver frowned. —Mum can sort it when she moves.—
The words stung. She’d poured her heart into this place, and he was already talking about his mother taking over?
—Ollie… what if we stayed here?— she ventured. —I love it. The cottage is yours—no paperwork needed.—
—What about the flat?— he asked.
—It’s cramped, suffocating. Out here, there’s space. Fresh air!—
—I’ll talk to Mum,— he promised.
Emily was overjoyed. She threw herself into decorating, even starting a small vegetable patch. This new life felt perfect—until Margaret arrived unannounced.
—Hello, Margaret,— Emily greeted her with a smile, eager to show off the renovations. —No warning?—
—Why warn you when I’m coming home?— Margaret snapped. —You’ve dragged your feet, so I’m here to check.—
—Home?— Emily faltered. —Didn’t Oliver tell you? We’re staying. The cottage is his—no need to transfer it.—
Margaret paled, sinking into a chair.
—You shameless girl! Stealing my home? I bent over backwards for you, and this is how you repay me? Over my dead body! I’m staying! Oliver will side with me, so pack your things—spare us the drama!—
Emily was speechless. She’d never imagined Margaret cared about the cottage. The woman had always mocked the countryside, preferring the city’s comforts.
They waited for Oliver in tense silence, neither speaking for over an hour, each praying he’d side with her.
When Oliver walked in, his grim expression worsened at the sight of them.
—What’s happened?— Both women stared, making him fidget.
—The firm went under. I’ve lost my job,— he admitted. —We’ll have to stay here, Em. It’s cheaper—no fancy shops, just essentials. We’ll manage.—
Margaret said nothing, watching her son. Emily inwardly cheered—Oliver had made the choice for her. She knew he often yielded to his mother, but this time, luck was on her side.
—Mum, I’m sorry, but we need this,— Oliver continued. —Until we’re back on our feet.—
Defeated, Margaret nodded. She left without another word. Oliver turned to Emily with a grin—And that’s how we got our happy ending,— he whispered, pulling her close as the cottage walls echoed with their laughter.
