Mother-in-Law Times Two “Well, I never!” exclaimed George, instead of a greeting, as he opened the door to find a petite, sprightly old lady in jeans, her lips curled into a sly grin and her mischievous eyes twinkling under lowered lids. “I recognise her—Valerie Peterson, Irene’s gran. But turning up unannounced, not so much as a phone call…” “Hello, lad!” she greeted him, still smiling. “You going to invite me in, then?” George bustled, “Yes, absolutely, please come through.” Valerie rolled her wheeled suitcase into the flat. Later, as George offered her tea, she directed, “Make mine strong! So Irene’s at work, little Olivia’s at nursery, and what about you? Why aren’t you busy?” “Work sent me on leave,” he answered gloomily. “Two weeks—company policy.” There went his dreams of a peaceful fortnight. With hope, he asked his guest, “Will you be staying long?” “Spot on,” she replied, crushing his hopes, “I’ll be here a while.” George sighed again. He barely knew Valerie Peterson—he’d only glimpsed her at his wedding to Irene, when she’d come in from another city. But his own father-in-law spoke about his mother-in-law in such hushed and nervous tones, anyone could see she was respected—if not downright feared. “Wash the dishes,” she ordered, “and get yourself ready. We’ll have a tour of the town, and you’ll be my guide!” George didn’t even try to protest, not after the tone she’d used. It reminded him of Sergeant Prichard back in the army—a man you never argued with. “You’ll show me the riverside!” Valerie instructed. “What’s the best way to get there?” She looped her arm through his and confidently set off down the pavement, eyes wide with curiosity. “Taxi’s easiest,” George shrugged. Without warning, Valerie tucked her fingers into a ring and whistled piercingly. A passing taxi screeched to a stop. “Do you have to whistle like that? What will people think?” George said, helping her climb into the front seat. “They won’t think anything about me,” she grinned impishly. “They’ll probably think it’s you with no manners!” The taxi driver burst out laughing and clapped Valerie on the hand as if they were lifelong mates. For the rest of the riverside stroll, his sprightly relative regaled George with tales: “You seem a quiet, polite sort,” she said to him. “Your gran probably acts all refined too, but that’s not me. My late husband—Irina’s granddad, bless him—took forever to get used to me. He was a bookish, gentle sort, then I turned up—dragged him up mountains, got him to parachute with me. The one thing he wouldn’t touch was a hang-glider. Terrified! He’d watch the skies while I looped overhead.” To George’s surprise, Irene had never mentioned any of this about her whirlwind gran. It explained a lot. “Ever jumped from a plane yourself?” she asked, eyeing him. “In the army, fourteen times,” George replied with pride. “Good lad!” Valerie nodded approvingly and began to hum: “It’s a long drop down, When the parachute’s slow…” George recognised the song and joined in, their voices blending and driving away his nerves. Afterwards, Valerie suggested a break. “Let’s get something to eat—the aroma from that barbecue hut has me starving!” They sat near a swarthy, hawk-eyed chef skewering meat with the look of a man just as happy to duel with knives. Valerie winked and burst into song: “Gamarjoba, my friend, Wouldn’t it be grand to sing at a wedding?” The chef’s eyes lit up at the unexpected duet, and together they improvised a lively chorus before he bowed gallantly and set down a feast of skewers, flatbread, and fresh salad. He even brought two glasses of icy wine with a flourish. Drawn by the scent, a small grey kitten crept from the shrubbery. “Perfect—you’re just what we need!” Valerie beamed. “Come here, darling.” She turned to the chef: “Sir, could you bring some fresh meat for our little friend?” While the kitten devoured its treat, Valerie chided George: “You’ve got a little girl at home! And no cat? How are you planning to teach her kindness, love, compassion? This kitten stays!” After the outing, Valerie scrubbed the new family pet while sending George shopping for supplies. When he returned, arms laden with litter trays and beds, the flat was ringing with laughter as Irene and Olivia clung to their delighted gran. The kitten—with a regal air—watched from the sofa backrest. Valerie dispensed gifts. “Olivia, a summer set with shorts for you… Irene, nothing boosts a woman’s confidence in her husband’s eyes like lacy knickers…” The next week, Olivia skipped nursery, she and Valerie returning home each day exhausted but glowing from adventures. At home, George and the kitten (now named Lionel) awaited them, and in the evenings, Irene joined for family walks, Lionel in tow. “George, I need a word,” Valerie said seriously one night. “I’m leaving tomorrow—it’s time. Here: after I’m gone, give this document to Irene. It’s my will. She gets the flat and everything in it, you get our family library—some very rare treasures in there…” “Oh, Valerie, honestly!” George protested, but she silenced him. “I haven’t told Irene, only you—my heart’s not well, and it could end suddenly. Best to be ready.” “But you shouldn’t be alone!” “Oh, I’m never alone,” she smiled. “My daughter, your mother-in-law, is just a town away. You look after Irene and raise Olivia well. You’re a good man—reliable. And as for me—well, I’m your mother-in-law squared, aren’t I?” She laughed and clapped his shoulder. “Couldn’t you stay a little longer?” George pleaded. Valerie just smiled and shook her head. The whole family—Lionel included—walked her out for her taxi the next day. Valerie made her trademark whistle and a taxi screeched to a halt. “Come along, son, you’re seeing me to the station!” she commanded, kissing Irene and Olivia before hopping on the front seat. The cabbie stared in disbelief as George loaded the suitcase. “Never seen a proper English lady before?” George muttered. The spry, silver-haired matriarch shook with laughter and high-fived George with a resounding smack as the adventure came to a close.

Well, now, isnt this a turn-up! exclaimed George as he opened the door to find a petite, wiry old lady clad in well-worn jeans, her mouth stretched into a mischievous grin. Her eyes, twinkling impishly behind narrowed lids, sparkled with a rare energy.

He recognised her straight awayEleanor Mayhew, his wife Emilys grandmother. Blast, but there was no warning, not even a call, George thought, briefly startled.

Hello there, grandson! she chirped, her smile never wavering. Will you let me in, then?

Of course! Do come in! he replied, rather flustered, stepping aside as she wheeled a small travel case into the hall.

Ill have mine strong, she instructed as George poured the tea. So, Emily at work, little Alice at nursery, and you just lazing about?

Theyve packed me off on leave, George muttered gloomily. Two weekscompanys orders. His dreams of a blissful holiday were already slipping away. With hope, he asked, How long did you plan on staying?

Eleanors nod dashed his hopes. Right as rain, dear, Ill be here quite a while.

George sighed. Truth be told, he barely knew Eleanor Mayhewa mere glimpse at his and Emilys wedding, which shed attended all the way from another town. Still, hed heard enough about her from his father-in-law, whod whisper about his mother-in-law as though mentioning a ghost, respect woven with a kind of knee-knocking fear.

Do the dishes, then get your coat, Eleanor commanded briskly. Were off for a touryoull be my guide!

George had the sense not to argue. The tone in her voice transported him straight back to his old army sergeant majorit never paid to talk back to such people.

Well walk along the riverside! Eleanor declared. Whats the easiest way there? She took Georges arm with the casual certainty of the seasoned and set off, pausing only to survey the street with a keen curiosity.

Best to take a cab, George suggested, shrugging.

Quick as a flash, Eleanor curled her fingers and let out a piercing whistle. A black cab screeched to a halt.

Was that really necessary? What will people think? George admonished gently, helping her into the front seat.

Theyll think youre the unruly one, not me, she retorted, eyes twinkling, as the cabbie burst into laughter. Eleanor and the driver exchanged a hearty clap of the hands, as though reunited old friends.

Youre a true gentleman, George, said his aged relative during their stroll along the river. Your grandmothers likely posh and properI never learned how. My Harold, Emilys granddadGod rest himhe struggled long to get used to me. He was a quiet soul, buried in books, then along I came. We went everywhere together: I dragged him up mountains, had him jump from planes for the fun of it. Only hang gliding truly gave him the heebie-jeebies. Hed watch from the ground while I made circles above his head with Emily in tow.

George listened in aweEmily had never mentioned her grans wild streak. Eleanors life brimmed with colour and adventure. She fixed him with a stern look: And youever parachuted?

In the army, fourteen jumps, George replied, not without pride.

Well done! I respect that, Eleanor nodded, breaking into a tune:
Long we will tumble and fall,
For this is a mighty, high leap.
George recognised the old song and quickly joined in:
A silken cloud will unfold,
Soaring behind like a gull.

Singing drew them together, and George soon found his nerves dissipating beside this extraordinary woman.

We ought to have a sit down and a bite now, Eleanor proposed. Lets try that little stallthe aroma of grilled meat is divine, isnt it?

At the grill, a dark-haired chap, perhaps in his forties with a rakish air, deftly speared marinated meat onto skewers with a menacing look, as if hed gladly wield those skewers in a duel and relish the chance.

Sitting at a table nearby, Eleanors eyes sparkled with sudden musical clarity:
Good day to you, dear sir,
Wouldnt it be grand to sing at a wedding?

The grillman started, flashed a fiery gleam, and together they sang their verse:
A wedding song, that would do,
Yes, indeed, a good day to you!

Here you are, madam, kindly enjoy, grinned the grillman, laying down platters of kebabs, warm flatbread, and fresh herbs, before handing over two glasses of chilled English white and bowing with a hand on his chest.

Drawn by the scent, a pale-grey kitten emerged from behind a bush, staring up at them with hopeful eyes.

Youre just what we need, Eleanor cooed. Come here, little chap. Turning to the grillman, she called, Could you please bring our friend some fresh meat, chopped up fine?

As the kitten ate hungrily, Eleanor turned to George: Youve a little girl at home. Raising a childespecially a daughterwithout a cat? How will you teach her kindness, compassion, and care for the small and the meek? This young fellow is your answer!

After their walk, Eleanor gave the kitten a bath, dispatching George to acquire a shopping list of feline essentials. When George staggered home with a new litter tray, bowls, scratching post, and plush basket, the flat rang with delighted squeals. Emily and Alice clung to their grandma as she beamed and kissed her dearest. The kitten, perched atop the sofa, surveyed his new kingdom with wide-eyed wonder.

This is for you, Alicea little summer outfit, shorts and all, Eleanor distributed gifts. And for you, Emily. Nothing makes a lady feel quite so grand in her husbands eyes as lacy knickers

For the next week, Alice stayed home from nursery. She and Eleanor would vanish each morning, returning nearer lunchtime, both content and glowing from their adventures.

At home, George and the kittennow named Lionelawaited them. In the evenings, Emily joined, so the whole family would stroll out once again, Lionel tagging along.

One more thing, George, we must talk, Eleanor said one evening, her tone uncharacteristically earnest. I shall be leaving tomorrow. Its time. After Im gone, give this to Emily. She handed him a document in a clear folder. My will. The flat and all possessions go to her; to youthe library. That collection means the world; Harold spent a lifetime gathering those books, some signed by historys greats

Oh, but Mrs Mayhew George began, but Eleanor cut him off with a wave.

I havent mentioned anything to Emilyonly you. My hearts not so steady these days; the end could come suddenly. One must be prepared.

But you cant be alone! protested George.

Im never truly alone, she replied with a wise, gentle smile. Besides, my daughteryour mother-in-lawlives close. Take good care of Emily, raise Alice well. Youre a fine man, dependable. Funny to think, Im almost a mother-in-law squared to you! She thumped him on the back and let out a raucous, infectious laugh.

Could you not stay just a little longer? George pleaded.

Eleanor gave a grateful smile and shook her head.

The whole family turned out to see her off, even Lionel curled up in Alices arms seemed downcast.

Eleanor popped her fingers between her lips, whistled sharp and loud, and another black cab immediately drew up.

Off we go, lad, you can see me to the train! she declared, hugging Emily and Alice before settling into the cabs front seat.

The cabbie stared at her, astonished by her unique way of flagging him down.

What are you gawping at? George quipped. Never seen a proper lady before?

The lively little grandmother tossed her grey curls and, laughing fit to burst, gave Georges hand a spirited slap as they set off, the memory of her laughter echoing for many years after.