Very well, we wont throw you out for the holidays. Make three rooms ready my sisters and my niece will stay over. Youll spend the night in the kitchen yourself, she had said.
Mrs. Agatha Whitaker, and what of it? I am the sole owner of this house; I have the title deeds to prove it. So dont even think of forcing your way in the constabulary will have you out on the spot.
I remember that day as if it were a scene from an old film. It was the evening before the New Year, and I, Victoria Hart, was finishing a long shift at the factory. In two weeks the calendar would turn to the first of January, and my old schoolfriend Eleanor had invited me to her home for a festive gathering.
Eleanors house always turned into a bustling hub: her daughter, the hostess, with husband and children; my sister, and my niece, Lily, a university student. I had spent many evenings at Eleanors, knew every member of the clan, and so I set myself the task of buying presents before the rush began.
Choosing gifts was always my forte, and handing them over brought me joy. I could already picture myself drifting through the brightly lit aisles of the Westfield shopping centre, watching the shop assistants wrap parcels in glittering paper, pausing to admire the festive decorations.
My good humour evaporated the moment I stepped out onto the car park. By my silver Ford Sierra waited Margaret, the sister of my former husband.
Vic, hello! she chirped, cheeks rosy from the cold. What took you so long? Im practically frozen solid.
Good afternoon, Margaret. I didnt expect to see you here.
Why not? After all, were family, she replied, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. Weve been considered kin for at least twenty years.
Thankfully thats no longer the case, I answered, reaching for the car door.
But Margaret held me back.
Listen, Vicky, I have a request. Not just me, but the whole family.
What family, Margaret? I havent spoken to yours in a year, and Im not entertaining any appeals, I said firmly.
No, just hear me out. I dont know how you and Michael split the assets, but Mother still believes the house you live in belongs to our side.
You bought it with Mike, and he spent ten years fitting it out. We all gathered there for Christmas and for May Day celebrations. And now?
Mother was planning to host her birthday in May, to have the whole clan on the verandah as we always did. Then you turned us away and disappeared.
I dont see why youre telling me all this, I asked. I was simply visiting a friend and left when I felt like it. Sorry, I forgot to ask you
Forget about our family dinners in my house. When Mike and I divorced, we agreed: the flat, the car and the garage went to him, the house to me. We put it all on paper straight away. So you can hold your celebrations in Mikes flat. Thats final.
Vic, Mother asked if we could use the house on the thirtyfirst as we always have. Lots of people will be coming we have nowhere else to lodge the whole bunch, Margaret pleaded.
Mrs. Whitaker asked that? I find that hard to believe! For twenty years she only made demands of me. If shes suddenly asking, tell her I refuse. And make the relatives book hotel rooms.
I slipped into the drivers seat, my spirits for the giftrun utterly crushed. Ill buy tomorrow, I muttered, turning the key toward home.
Mike and I had lived together for nearly twenty years. The house in question had been bought a decade earlier. A year before, hed declared that at fortyfive life isnt over and that he would spend his later years with his charming young secretary. I didnt try to stop him, but I also refused to be reduced to a footnote. The house and all our joint savings stayed with me; he walked away with a twobed flat, a Jaguar, and a garage.
Since my only source of income was Lilys modest student stipend, Mike never pressed for a joint account. A few days earlier Lily had called, telling me she would spend New Years Eve in her university hall.
Mother, will you be angry? she asked. Ill be home for the holidays.
Later that week I accepted Eleanors invitation. In that company I would not be lonely.
Knowing Margaret, I sensed this was not the end of her scheming. And she was right.
That very evening an old motherinlaw called:
Victoria, arent you taking on too much? Youve audaciously claimed Mikes house, and now you think we wont find a way to challenge you?
My dear, well all be celebrating New Years in the house you gave your son to live in. Understood?
Fine, we wont evict you for the holiday. Prepare three bedrooms my sisters and my niece will stay. Youll sleep in the kitchen.
Mrs. Whitaker, do you not realise I am the sole proprietor? I have the deeds. Dont even think of breaking in the police will have you out.
Well see who gets thrown out! Prepare the rooms, well bring all the food, so you wont have to cook a thing. And dont protest, for youll remember this New Year for the rest of your life!
In my mind I thought, This is what happens when a motherinlaw turns into a beast. Agatha Whitaker had never been a peacemaker, but today her little performance shocked even me. Did she truly expect I would cower and obey?
Once, I had been the model daughterinlaw; the other two women had eventually accepted the matriarchs authority. Now that Mike and I were separated, the old womans words only made me laugh. What were they counting on?
Meanwhile, in Agathas flat a plan was taking shape.
Margaret, you and Alex are in charge of buying the provisions. Get everything you can now well be cooking on the thirtyfirst evening and the next morning.
Well handle the cold cuts and the hot dishes. Sylvia and Olivia will bring the salads. Well pack everything in containers, and well borrow the dishware from Victoria I know she still has two full service sets. Mike left nothing when he moved out.
Mother, what if she refuses us entry? Margaret asked.
Let her try! Well be twelve the whole clan. Shell be embarrassed. Imagine the front porch crowded with Uncle Kevin, Aunt Lucy, Liam and Natalie, and so on. Do you think shell shut the door on them? Shell have to let us in and even help set the table. Its family!
On the thirtyfirst of December, at nine oclock, four cars pulled up in front of number fourteen East Street, where Agathas house stood.
Strange, said Alex, Margarets husband. The lights are off. Maybe Victoria isnt home?
Where could she be? Shes at home, and Lily is probably arriving now. Theyre hiding from us, Agatha laughed. Ring the bell.
No one answered; the door remained shut.
I have a spare key, Agatha announced. I knew Victoria might try something, so I kept one.
She unlocked the gate, and the entire party slipped into the courtyard.
Hold on, Ill open the front door now. Turn on the lights and bring everything into the kitchen; well set the table in a flash. As for Victoria, she can hide if she wishes we wont be inviting her to sit at the table.
About twenty minutes later a clatter rose from the hallway.
Theres the lady of the house, Alex announced.
But it was not Agatha.
Victoria was busy helping Eleanor lay the table when her phone rang.
Mrs. Hart? Theres an alarm triggered at your address. Police are on their way.
There are twelve people here, claiming to be my relatives and saying they have my permission to be inside.
I never gave anyone permission. They must be my exhusbands family, uninvited.
Well be filing a report, of course. Im out of town and wont return until the day after tomorrow.
The uninvited guests were escorted to the police station, where they spent a few hours. By the time they arrived at Agathas flat, the salads were already spilling and the hot dishes were cooling.
When I finally got back home, my former husband called, demanding I retrieve the police report.
Vic, I thought youd changed the lock. Didnt you? he asked.
I didnt. Why would I break the lock? I installed a new deadbolt and use it daily.
Why, when you left, did you lock the old one?
I guessed your mother would never be satisfied and would show up with her guests. I didnt want the door to be damaged by strangers.
So you deliberately left the old lock, which she had a key to, and set the alarm? You provoked them!
My dear, your side could have celebrated New Years at their own home. They chose instead to go to the police station. Im not to blame for that.
By the way, I had to clean up after them and air the house what theyd left on the table had already begun to spoil before I got there.
Why didnt you tell Margaret youd put the house on alarm? Mike asked.
Why not? There are signs on the gate and the door that read Protected by police. Anyone can read them.
Tell your mother, Margaret, Alex and everyone else that I will never welcome them as guests again, I said.
This time Ill take the statement, but there wont be a next one. The law will deal with them harshly
So, what do you think of the former familys actions? Write your thoughts in the comments and give a like if you agree.
