Emma was 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.
“Emma, love, Ive got a favour to ask,” Margaret began, her voice cheerful. “Id really love to see the baby. Fancy me popping over for a bit?”
Emma didnt sense any mischief. Margaret lived up in Newcastle, and they rarely saw each other. Since Oliver was born, their interactions had been limited to phone calls.
“Of course, Margaret, do come. You ought to see Oliverhes growing like a weed.”
“How about a week, then?”
“Sure, thats fine,” Emma agreed generously. “The sofa in the lounge pulls outplenty of space.”
Margaret practically squealed with delight.
“Oh, lovely! 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.
“Alright, let her come,” he agreed. “Havent seen Mum in ages.”
Three days later, Emma got a text from Margaret:
*”On my way, no need to fetch meIll grab a cab.”*
Emma fluffed the sofa cushions, stocked the fridge, and even picked up a Victoria sponge.
Margaret arrived that evening with two enormous suitcases and a beaming smile. But behind her loomed a man.
“Emma, meet Derek,” Margaret announced brightly. “My friend. He had business in London, so we thought wed make a trip of it. Kill two birds with one stone.”
Emma stared blankly at the strangera grey-haired bloke in a threadbare suit, clutching a worn-out suitcase.
“Hello,” she managed.
“Pleasure,” Derek said, offering a hand. “Margarets told me loads about you.”
Emma ushered them into the lounge, her mind racing. Their two-bed flat was tight enough with threenow they were five.
She pulled Margaret aside. “You never mentioned bringing someone.”
“Whats the fuss?” Margaret laughed. “The sofas big enough. Dereks easygoing.”
Emma stood there, processing. Their rented flat was barely fit for three, let alone five.
“Margaret, I only prepared for you. Weve got a babyspace is tight.”
Margaret waved her off. “Oh, dont worry, love. We wont be underfoot. Right, Derek?”
Derek nodded, eyeing the flat approvingly. “Nice place. Decent area, good transport links. Perfect for job hunting.”
“Job hunting?” Emma echoed.
“Aye,” Derek confirmed. “No prospects back in Sunderland. Thought Id try my luck here.”
Emmas head spun. So this wasnt just a visit.
“How long are you planning to stay?”
“Oh, well see,” Margaret said breezily. “Derek needs time to settle in.”
Emma bit her tongue and retreated to the kitchen. Just then, James walked in from work.
“Alright? Mum here yet?”
“She is. And she brought company.”
James paused. “What dyou mean?”
“A gentleman friend. Go say hello to Derek.”
James walked into the lounge to find Margaret showing Derek family photos on her phone.
“Mum, you never said you were bringing a guest.”
“James, love!” Margaret beamed. “Meet Derek. Been friends for ages.”
The men shook hands. Derek grinned. “Your mums told me all about you. Lovely family youve got.”
“Cheers,” James said flatly. “Mum, a word?”
They stepped into the kitchen where Emma pretended to focus on dinner.
“Mum, have you lost the plot? Bringing a stranger into our home?”
“Dont shout, James. Dereks a good sortweve known each other six months.”
“Fine, but not in *our* flat! Weve got a baby, routineswe need peace!”
Margaret pouted. “So your own mothers a bother now? Thought youd be happy.”
James sighed. “Its not about you. But a heads-up wouldve been nice.”
“Well be quiet,” Margaret promised. “Wont be long. Derek just needs time to find work.”
James relented. Kicking his mum out would be awkward, and Emma hadnt objected.
The first few days passed without drama. Margaret doted on Oliver; Derek scoured job listings. But soon, cracks appeared.
Mornings meant queueing for the loo while Derek took ages shaving. Margaret cooked breakfasts no one asked for. Evenings were spent trapped in the bedroom while the guests commandeered the telly.
“Emma, youve got a laptop, yeah?” Derek asked over dinner. “Need to send off my CV.”
“We use it for work,” Emma said.
“Just for a bit. Job hunting, innit?”
He camped at the dining table all day, loudly phoning employers.
“Aye, decades of experience. Ran a workshop in Sunderland. Age? Nah, Ive got years left in me!”
Oliver, startled awake, wailed. Emma soothed him while Derek bellowed into the phone.
“Sorry, thats the grandson. Bit fussy, you know how it is.”
Margarets “help” with Oliver only added stress.
“Emma, why pick him up straight away? A good cry clears the lungs.”
“Hes hungry.”
“Cant behe ate an hour ago. Must be teething.”
Emma bit her tongue.
By weeks end, patience wore thin. Derek hadnt found work but remained undaunted. Margaret acted like she owned the place.
“Emma, whys the fridge so bare?” she chided. “Need proper groceries.”
“We buy what we eat,” Emma said.
“Derek needs hearty mealsjob huntings hard work!”
Emma seethed silently. Their budget was already stretched. The guests had been to the shops exactly once.
Then came Dereks phone boasts:
“Dave, mate! In London now. Staying at my mates sons place. Two-bed in a posh bitsorted!”
Emmas blood boiled. So they were funding a strangers stay while he bragged to pals?
The final straw came when Oliver fell ill, feverish and restless. Emma was up all nightonly for Derek to demand silence for his “important calls.”
“Sorry, but the babys poorly,” she said.
“Employers on the line! This is crucial!”
James snapped. “Mum, how longs this going on?”
“James, be reasonable. Dereks trying!”
“And if he *doesnt* find work? Lives here till retirement?”
Margaret gasped. “How could you? Were family!”
“*Hes* not,” James said firmly. “Youve got two days. Then youre off.”
Margaret wept; Derek sulked. But James stood firm. Two days later, they left for Newcastle.
As she left, Margaret sniffed, “Shame I wont see my grandson for ages.”
The rift lingered. Emma vowed never to host *anyone* againnot even for a night. Hospitality had limits, especially in a cramped flat with a baby.
