Chop the salad finer, said Margaret and immediately caught herself. Oh, sorry, love. There I go again
No, Alice smiled. Youre right. Ben does like small bits. Show me how you do it.
Her mother-in-law demonstrated, naturally.
Hello, Alice. Is Ben home?
Margaret appeared on the doorstep in her eternal camel coat with a faux-fur collar, done up to the neck: steely blue eyes lined perfectly, lipstick just so, her silver curls coiffed to within an inch of their life. On her right hand shimmered an ancient ring with a murky amethyst.
Hes away for work, Alice replied. Didnt you know?
Away? Margaret frowned. He didnt say a word. I thought Id pop in for the day, see the grandchildren before New Year.
Grandmotherly gifts
From the sitting room burst out Pippafair plaits bouncing, brown eyes sparkling, a comical gap between her front teeth. Granny!
Margaret was already stepping in, already shrugging off her coat, already blowing a kiss onto Pippas crown. Watching it all, Alice felt, yet again, that familiar clench inside. Six years of this gentle oversight.
I wont stay long, Margaret promised, scanning the hallway. Just want to see the children, then Ill be off.
Fate, however, disagreed.
Fast forward two hours. Margaret stepped onto the porchnot one to smoke near the children, which Alice respectedand failed to notice the ice on the top step.
Alice heard a yelp and a hefty thud. By the time she dashed out, her mother-in-law was sitting on the ground, paler than rice pudding, clutching her ankle.
Dont move, Alice said, scurrying over. Im calling an ambulance.
Four hours fused into one: A&E, X-rays, waiting among coughing pensioners, the waft of hospital disinfectant. A broken ankle. Not too serious, but six long weeks in plasternot exactly festive.
No chance shes going anywhere, announced the young doctor, scribbling away. At least a week of bed rest. Then crutches. No train travel with that foot.
Alice nodded in stoic silence.
They drove back in near silence. Margaret gazed furiously out the window, twisting her old ring. Alice drove, thinking only that the holidays were officially scuppered.
Seven days, minimum. Under one roof. Without Ben. Just the two of them. Well, four, if you count the childrenbut children dont count when silent hostilities are your main course.
New Years Eve
On December 31st, Alice was up at six.
Salads to chop, meat to roast, something warming for the centrepiece. Kids would wake hungry. Margaret would wakeready to supervise. Salad delivery incoming.
So, it began.
Youre chopping much too thick, Margaret tutted, hobbling in on crutches to the kitchen. Salads best with little pieces. Much softer.
I know, Alice replied softly.
And too much mayo. Itll drown in it.
I know.
Ben likes extra sweetcorn.
Alice put the knife down.
Margaret, Ive made this salad for twelve years. I know how Ben likes it.
I was only trying to help
Thank you. But no.
Tight-lipped, Margaret retreatedAlice knew that look by heartas she left for the living room. White plaster flashed in the hall, crutches thunked on the linoleum. Alice grabbed her phone and stepped out to the balcony.
Outside, peacefulthese days, New Years celebrations are distinctly low-key on fireworks, just fairy lights twinkling in distant windows.
Lizzie, I cant cope, she whispered urgently to her best friend. I really cant. Shes stuck here an entire week, and Bens sailed off as if nothings happened. Six years Ive gritted my teeth If this doesnt change, Ill take the kids and go.
She didnt realise that, behind the glass door, in the armchair by the tree, Margaret sat listening. Hearing every word.
The stroke of midnight was marked in silence.
Pippa and Johnny drifted off before eleven, outlasting neither excitement nor bedtime. Alice and Margaret sat at the tablesalads, cold cuts, TV muttering in the background, and strictly no glancing at one another.
Happy New Year, Alice said as the clock struck twelve.
Happy New Year, echoed Margaret.
They clinked glasses. Sipped. Dispersed.
New Year, old feelings
On January 1st, Ben called.
Mum, you alright? Alice, hows she doing?
All fine, Alice replied. Plaster cast. Bed rest for a week; well see then.
Are you two managing?
Alice paused, eyeing the closed lounge door.
Were muddling through.
Alice, I get that this is tough
Youre on your work trip, Ben. Youre there; Im here, with your mum, over Christmas. Lets not.
She hung up, then cried in the bathroom, water running, not a peep for anyone else to hear. Brown eyes with violet bags stared back at her from the mirror.
Thirty-two, two kids, six years marriedand the mood that shes frozen into someone elses life.
On the first, Margaret asked Alice to fetch her papers from her handbag. Passport and tax code, pleaseI want to book a follow-up online.
Alice rummaged through the ancient leather bagreceipts, notebook, passport Her hand landed on a faded photograph. She drew it out, thinking it was an old prescription.
A black-and-white, creased photo. A young woman in a wedding dress. Twenty-five, maybe a bit older. Beautifuland in absolute floods. Puffy eyes, mascara streaked, lips trembling.
Alice turned it over. On the back, faded ink: The day I realised Id never belong. 15th August 1990.
Alice stared at the writing. And the photo. And then again at the writing. 1990. Thirty-four years ago. Margaret is sixty-one, so she was twenty-seven then. A bride. Tear-stained.
Have you found the papers? Alice jumped. Margaret was at the door on her crutches.
I Alice tried to pocket the photo but failed. Margaret saw.
Her face changed immediately. Something raw flickeredfear, old shame.
Give it here.
Alice handed over the photo wordlessly. Margaret gazed at it for an age, then tucked it in her dressing gown pocket.
Passports in the side pocket. Left. Thank you. And off she went.
Night thoughts
On the night of the third, Alice woke to strange noises. Johnny had migrated to her bed since Ben left; Pippa snored in her own. The faint sound came from the lounge.
She tiptoed out. In the darkness, lit by the blue twinkle of the tree, Margaret sat, leg in plaster propped on an ottoman. The photo in her hands.
Cant sleep? Alice whispered. Margaret startled. Its aching The leg, and everything else.
Alice moved to join her on the armchairs armrest. The room smelled of satsumas and pine. The fairy lights blinkedblue, yellow, blue
That photois it you? Your wedding day?
A long silence.
Yes.
What happened?
Margaret didnt answer at once. Her voice was hoarse, eyes fixed somewhere behind the tree.
My mother-in-law. Victors mum. She she broke me. Just wiped me out over three years.
Alice held her breath.
She hated me from the start. I wasnt her sortjust a girl from the suburbs. They were cultured. Victor chose me, and she never forgave him. Or me. Constant guidance, every day.
Every word, every movement. Not enough seasoning in the stew, shirts not ironed right, raising Ben improperly. Shed tell me I wasnt good enough for her son. To Victor. To guests. To neighbours.
Alice listened, recognising every single word.
After three years, I ended up in hospital.
Nervous breakdown. Handfuls of sedatives. Hands shook so much, I couldnt ladle soup. Doctors told Victor: Either she leaves, or she wont recover. He chose me. Set an ultimatum for his mother. She moved out.
And then?
Six months later, she was gone. Heart I never got to forgive or say goodbye. She left me just this ring. Her will said: To the daughter-in-law who stole my son. Ive worn it thirty years. Every day. To remember.
Remember what?
Margaret finally looked at Alice. In the fairy light, her eyes glistened.
I swore thenId never be like that. Never torture my sons wife. Never demolish his family out of my own jealousy.
She lowered her head.
And didnt see myself becoming even worse.
The room was silent but for the faint crackle of fairy lights.
I heard you, Margaret said. On the balcony. That night. You said youd leave. Take the children. Because of me.
Alice struggled to breathe.
Margaret
Dont. I understand. Six years Ive breezed in and ruined your peace. Helping, bossing, meddling. Thinking I know best because Im his mum Really, Im just scared. Scared Benll choose you and forget me. Just as Victor chose me and left his mother behind. And the more scared I get, the more I make it all come true.
Alice said nothing.
She didnt know what to say.
In that photo, I was crying because, moments before, my mother-in-law said: Youll never be part of this family. Youre an outsider, and youll stay one. Did I ever say something like that to you?
Alice dropped her eyes.
Not with words. But
But I made you feel it.
Yes.
Margaret nodded. Slowly, heavily.
Forgive me, Alice, my dear. I didnt mean to. Truly, I thought I was different. But fear made me just the same.
They sat together until dawn. Talking. Silent. Then talking again. Margaret spoke of Victor, lost seven years ago.
Of how empty a flat feels without him, always worrying her only son will forget her, stop calling
Alice spoke of her exhaustion. How it feels to be invisible in her own home. How she wanted to be perfect, and still fell flat.
As grey crept into the sky, Margaret whispered:
You know what terrifies me most? That one day, Pippa will marryand Ill become the same family spectre to her husband. Like a curse passed down. My mother-in-law did it to me; I did it to you. Someone needs to break this chain.
For the first time in six years, Alice took her hand.
So break it.
Ill try, sweetheart. Ill try.
By the 5th of January, they cooked together.
Cut the salad finer, said Margaret, catching herself right away. Oh, sorry, love. Doing it again
No, smiled Alice. Youre right. Ben does like it that way. Pleaseshow me again.
Mother-in-law gave her tipsthen how to salt, how to toss so veg didnt turn to mush. Pippa hovered, sneaking bits of sweetcorn.
Johnny played in the lounge.
Granny, piped Pippa, why didnt you come and stay with us before?
Margaret looked over at Alice, who grinned warmly.
Granny was awfully busy before. Now shell visit more, wont you?
Yes, Margaret promised.
If you invite me.
We will! Every time!
In the evening, Margaret called Alice to her.
Come sit, dear.
Alice sat beside her on the sofa. Margaret slipped the old amethyst ring off her finger, rolling it between her hands.
This was my mother-in-laws. The only keepsake. Wore it thirty years as a grudge. A sort of reminder that I didnt belong.
She placed the ring on Alices finger.
Now its yours. But let it remind you of something else. That things change. That old hurts can be released.
Margaret
Mum. You can call me Mum, if youd like.
Alice tried to answer, but her voice wavered. Instead, she wrapped Margaret in a real hugfor the very first time in six long years.
Outside, the snow fell quietly, properly festive at last. The tree twinkled. Pippas laughter floated in from the other room.
And Alice realised: the holidays were never ruined. They had only just begun.
Lifes like thatsometimes it takes a slip on the icy step to finally stumble into someones heart. The hardest knots undo, not with force, but with an honest Im sorry, truly.
Happy New Year, dear readers! Wishing everyone peace and all the love in the world.
And tell mehave you ever found common ground with someone, just when youd nearly lost hope of understanding?
