Emma had just finished washing up after breakfast when her mother-in-law, Margaret, called. Six-month-old Oliver was peacefully napping in his pram on the balcony, so she had a moment to chat undisturbed.
“Emma, love, Ive got a little favour to ask,” Margaret began, her voice cheerful. “Id love to see my grandson. Fancy a visit?”
Emma sensed no ulterior motives. Margaret lived up north, and they rarely saw each other. Since Oliver was born, theyd only spoken on the phone.
“Of course, Margaretcome down. You should see Oliver; hes growing like a weed.”
“How about a week? Would that suit?”
“Perfectly,” Emma agreed generously. “The sofa in the lounge pulls outyoull be comfy.”
Margaret practically chirped with delight.
“Oh, lovely! Thank you, dear. Ill be there in a couple of days. Already booked my train ticket, just in case.”
Emma smiled. After hanging up, she told her husband, James, about the impending visit.
“Fine by me,” he shrugged. “Havent seen Mum in ages.”
Three days later, Emma got a text from Margaret:
“Arriving todayno need to fetch me, Ill take a cab.”
Emma prepped the sofa, stocked the fridge, and even picked up a Victoria sponge.
Margaret arrived that evening with two large suitcases and a beaming smile. But behind her loomed a mans silhouette in the hallway.
“Emma, meet Geoffrey,” Margaret announced brightly. “Hes a dear friend. Had business in London, so we thought wed travel together and introduce him properly.”
Emma blinked at the strangera silver-haired bloke in a worn suit, clutching a scuffed suitcase.
“Pleased to meet you,” she managed.
“Likewise,” Geoffrey said, extending a hand. “Margarets told me all about you.”
Emma ushered them into the lounge, mind racing. Their two-bed flat was already snug for three. Now, suddenly, five?
She pulled Margaret aside. “Margaret, wheres Geoffrey staying? You never mentioned bringing anyone.”
“Whats the fuss?” Margaret laughed. “The sofas big enough. Geoffreys not fussy.”
Emma stood frozen, trying to process this.
“Margaret, I only set up for one. Weve barely got room as it is with Oliver.”
Margaret waved her off, already unpacking. “Dont fret, love. Were low-maintenance. Right, Geoff?”
Geoffrey nodded, eyeing the flat approvingly. “Nice place. Decent area, good transport links. Ideal for job hunting.”
“Job hunting?” Emma echoed.
“Aye,” Geoffrey confirmed. “No prospects back in Bradford. Londons the place to be.”
Emmas head spun. So this wasnt just a weekend visit.
“How long are you planning to stay?”
“Oh, well see,” Margaret said breezily. “Geoffrey needs time to settle in.”
Emma, forcing composure, retreated to the kitchen. James walked in moments later.
“Alright? Mum here yet?”
“Shes here. With company.”
James paused. “What dyou mean, company?”
“Brought a friend. Go say hello to Geoffrey.”
James marched into the lounge, where Margaret was showing Geoffrey family photos on her phone.
“Mum, you didnt mention a plus-one.”
“James, darling!” Margaret trilled. “Meet Geoffrey. Geoffrey, my son.”
The men shook hands. Geoffrey grinned. “Heard loads about you. Fine family youve got.”
“Thanks,” James said flatly. “Mum, a word?”
They stepped into the kitchen. Emma pretended to focus on dinner.
“Mum, have you lost the plot? Bringing a stranger into our home?”
“James, dont be rude. Geoffreys lovelyweve been friends months.”
“Be friends all you like, but not under our roof!”
Margarets face fell. “So thats it. Your own mothers a burden.”
James sighed. “Its not about you. But weve got a baby, routineswe need peace.”
“Well be quiet,” Margaret promised. “Just till Geoffrey finds his feet.”
James relented. Kicking his mum out felt wrong, and Emma hadnt objected.
The first few days passed smoothly. Margaret doted on Oliver; Geoffrey scoured job listings. But soon, cracks appeared.
Morning bathroom queues. Geoffreys endless shaving. Margaret cooking fry-ups without asking. Evenings spent trapped in their bedroom while guests commandeered the telly.
“Emma, that laptop free?” Geoffrey asked one night. “Need to send my CV.”
“We use it for work,” Emma said.
“Just a quick borrow. For the cause.”
He camped in the lounge, phoning recruiters loudly.
“Twenty years experienceforeman in Leeds. Age? Ive got decades left in me!”
Oliver woke screaming. Emma rocked him, shushing, while Geoffrey boomed on.
“Sorry, thats the grandson. Bit vocal, isnt he?”
Margarets childcare “help” clashed with Emmas methods.
“Why pick him up straight away? A good cry clears the lungs.”
“Margaret, hes hungry.”
“He ate an hour ago. Must be teething.”
Emma bit her tongue.
A week in, patience frayed. No job offers, but Geoffreys optimism held. Margaret redecorated the kitchen.
“Emma, whys the fridge half-empty?” she tutted. “Proper shopping needed.”
“We buy what we eat,” Emma said.
“Need decent meals. Geoffreys job-huntinghe needs fuel.”
Emma gaped at the audacity. Their budget was stretched thinyet the guests had only bought milk once.
Then came Geoffreys phone bragging:
“Dave! Down in London now. Staying at my mates sons place. Two-bed in a posh postcodesorted!”
Emmas jaw dropped. They were housing, feeding, and funding this manand he was boasting about it?
The final straw came when Oliver fell ill, feverish and fussy. Emma was exhausted, but Geoffrey demanded silence for “important calls.”
“Sorry, but hes poorly,” Emma said.
“Understood, but this is a recruiter!”
James overheard and snapped.
“Mum, how longs this going on?”
“James, be patient. Geoffreys trying.”
“And if he doesnt find work? Lives here till retirement?”
Margaret gasped. “How could you? Were family!”
“Hes not,” James said coldly. “Youve got two days.”
Margaret wept. Geoffrey sulked. But James stood firm. Two days later, they left for Bradford.
As they went, Margaret sighed. “Shame I wont see Oliver for ages.”
The rift lingered. Emma vowed never to host overnight guests again. Hospitality had limitsespecially in a rented flat with a baby.
Sodid James do the right thing, or was he too harsh? Drop your thoughts below. And if you enjoyed this, dont forget to like and commentit keeps us writing!
