The mother-in-law whispered behind her back.
“What on earth are you saying, Margaret?” Edith’s voice rang with indignation. “How can you spread such things about my daughter-in-law?”
“What did I say?” Margaret feigned innocence, adjusting her spectacles. “I only mentioned that your Charlotte has been acting rather odd lately. Perhaps she’s tired, or perhaps…”
“Perhaps what?” Edith stepped closer to the garden fence. “Go on, say it!”
“Well, I don’t know…” Margaret lowered her voice to a whisper, though loud enough for the neighbours to hear. “But what if she’s… expecting? Hiding it for now? It’s strange, married three years and no children yet…”
Charlotte froze by the gate, clutching the bread bag in her hand. She had just returned from the shop and overheard the conversation by chance. Now she couldn’t move. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain the whole world could hear it.
“Margaret, really!” Edith waved her off. “They’re still young, building their careers. Charlotte has a responsible job at the bank. Children can wait.”
“Oh yes, careers…” Margaret drawled. “But I’ve noticed how she leaves the house in the mornings. So pale, dark circles under her eyes. And she’s been shopping more often—never used to. Yesterday, I saw her lingering outside the chemist’s, staring at the window display for ages…”
A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine. She had indeed been at the chemist’s yesterday, eyeing pregnancy tests, but couldn’t bring herself to buy one. Fear had gripped her for weeks—fear of the unknown, of telling her husband, of how life might change.
“Honestly, Margaret!” Edith snapped. “Charlotte is a good, hardworking girl. If there were anything to tell, she’d have told me first. We get on well.”
“Get on well…” Margaret echoed with a peculiar tone. “But do you know she calls her mother every evening? Long conversations, and the moment Edward comes home, she hangs up.”
Charlotte shut her eyes. Yes, she called her mother daily, especially recently. But not because she wanted to hide anything—her mother simply understood her better. They talked about work, her fears, how sometimes she just needed to be alone.
“What’s wrong with that?” Edith defended. “She loves chatting with her mother—perfectly normal.”
“Normal, of course,” Margaret agreed, though her voice was sly. “But Beatrice told me she saw Charlotte at the bus stop after work, crying into a handkerchief.”
Charlotte remembered that day. She had wept on the bus, but not over pregnancy or marriage troubles. A close colleague had been sacked after years of friendship, and the manager hinted at more layoffs. The fear of losing her job—especially with her and Edward saving for a house—weighed heavily.
“Listen, Margaret,” Edith’s voice turned sharp. “What exactly are you implying? Spit it out.”
“Oh, nothing in particular,” Margaret hurried. “I just think she’s struggling. Maybe at work? Or…” she lowered her voice, “perhaps things aren’t smooth with Edward?”
“With my son? Ridiculous!” Edith flared. “They adore each other—anyone can see that!”
“See it, do you?” Margaret muttered. “But have you noticed Edward’s been coming home later lately? Dressing sharper, too. New shirt, wearing cologne…”
Charlotte clenched her fists. Edward had been working late, but he was honest about the big project keeping him busy. The shirt? She had bought it for his birthday. The cologne? A gift from her, just to make him smile.
“Margaret,” Edith said quietly, firmly. “I’ll ask you not to spread rumours about my family. If you have facts, speak plainly. If not, keep your gossip to yourself.”
“Goodness, no need for that!” Margaret huffed. “I’m only concerned for the girl! Clearly something’s amiss. Perhaps she needs help?”
“If she does, she’ll ask,” Edith cut in. “Your whispers won’t help anyone.”
Charlotte heard the gate creak—Edith was heading inside. Margaret lingered, muttering under her breath before finally disappearing.
Charlotte waited a few minutes, ensuring the yard was empty before entering. Her hands trembled as she opened the door. In the hallway, Edith stood tall, her silver hair pinned neatly back.
“Charlotte, where have you been?” Edith studied her. “You look pale.”
“Just to the shops.” Charlotte lifted the bread bag. “Edith… may I speak with you?”
“Of course. Come to the kitchen. Tea?”
They sat across from each other. Charlotte twisted her cup, unsure where to begin. Edith waited patiently.
“Edith, I overheard you… with Margaret,” Charlotte started haltingly.
“Ah,” Edith nodded. “And what did you hear?”
“She was talking about me. That I’ve been acting strangely, that I might be… expecting, or that Edward and I…”
Edith set her cup down. “Is there any truth in it?”
Charlotte met her gaze. “If I were expecting, I’d have told you. I wouldn’t hide something like that.”
“And troubles with Edward?”
“None. We love each other as much as ever. It’s just… work’s been difficult. Layoffs are coming, and I’m terrified of losing my job. We’re saving for the house, and if I’m let go…”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Edith asked gently.
“I didn’t want to worry you. Thought I’d handle it myself.”
Edith stood, placing a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder.
“Darling, we’re family. Your struggles are ours. Edward knows, doesn’t he?”
“He does. He’s supportive, says we’ll manage. But I see how stressed he is—his project’s demanding, hence the late hours.”
“So Margaret twists even that,” Edith sighed. “That woman could turn a drizzle into a storm.”
“Does she… often talk like this about everyone?”
“Unfortunately, yes. She pokes her nose where it doesn’t belong. Usually I ignore her. Today struck a nerve because it was about you.”
Tears pricked Charlotte’s eyes.
“It hurt to hear… as if I’ve done something wrong.”
“Charlotte,” Edith said softly. “You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a wonderful wife to my son and a dear daughter to me. Gossips will always gossip. Pay them no mind.”
“But others might believe her…”
“What do we care?” Edith said sharply. “We don’t live for the neighbours. Actually…” She paused. “Perhaps we should tell Edward. He should know what’s being said behind our backs.”
“No,” Charlotte said quickly. “He’s under enough stress at work. Why add to it?”
“Very well. But if you hear anything else, tell me. I won’t tolerate rumours about my family.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Edward was home.
“Mum! Lottie! I’m back!” he called, kicking off his shoes.
“Kitchen!” Edith replied.
Edward kissed Charlotte’s head, then hugged his mother.
“Everything alright? You both look serious.”
“Just ladies’ talk,” Edith smiled. “Hungry?”
“Starved. What’s for dinner?”
“I’ll heat up the stew, there’s shepherd’s pie too,” Charlotte said, standing.
“Sit, I’ll manage,” Edith insisted. “Edward, how’s the project?”
As Edith busied herself, Edward recounted his day. Charlotte listened absently, wrestling with whether to tell him about the gossip. He deserved to know—but why upset him further?
“Lottie, you’re miles away,” Edward noticed.
“Just tired.”
“Work again?”
Charlotte glanced at Edith, who gave a subtle nod.
“Edward, there might be more layoffs next week.”
His brow furrowed.
“When will you know?”
“At the meeting next week.”
He took her hand.
“If it happens, you’ll find another job. You’re brilliant—banks are everywhere.”
“But the house deposit…”
“We’ll wait a little longer. No rush. Just don’t fret so—I’ve seen how tense you’ve been.”
“That’s what I’ve told her,” Edith chimed in, serving the stew. “Family comes first. The rest will follow.”
After dinner, they lingered, making plans. Edward shared that if his project succeeded, he’d get a promotion and raise—easing worries over Charlotte’s job.
“Honestly,” he squeezed her shoulder, “this might be a blessing. You could find work closer to home.”
“Right, you two—off to bed,” Edith rose. “Early start tomorrow.”
Charlotte washed up while Edward watched the news. As they settled into bed, he asked:
“What was Mum on about with ‘ladies’ talk’ earlier?”
Charlotte hesitated, then decided.
“Edward… have you noticed the neighbours acting odd around us lately?”
“Odd? No. Why?”
“Just a feeling, probably.”
He pulled her close.
“You overthink things. Let’s just live and be happy
