**Diary Entry 10th November**
When Emily stepped into the flat, the first thing she saw was her mother-in-laws shoes plonked right in the middle of the hallway. It was clear thered be no rest tonight.
Fiona Victoria emerged from the kitchen with the air of a prosecutor delivering a guilty verdict.
“Off gallivanting with that useless old woman again, were you?” she snapped. “Never mind your husband, your child, or this houseleft to fend for themselves. Lucky I dropped by, or theyd have gone hungry.”
“Fiona, Nicholas knew Id be late tonight,” Emily replied evenly. “I left dinner readyhe just had to heat it up. Hes perfectly capable without your interference.”
Ten years of marriage to Nicholas had taught Emily to take Fionas endless complaints like background noisea radio left droning from morning till night.
But it hadnt always been so easy. Fiona was Emilys second mother-in-law. The first, Margaret Louise, had been a woman of tact. Never meddled, never gave unsolicited advice, never forced herself where she wasnt wanted. But she was always there when needed. Emily remembered her sitting up nights with baby Charlotte when the child confused day for night, sweeping in to take her granddaughter so Emily could rest, whispering, *”Leave the chores. When Louis gets home, hell sort dinner.”*
When Charlotte turned five, an accident at the factory took Louis life.
Margaret Louise, grieving her only son, never abandoned Emily or her granddaughter. For the first three months, they even lived together, holding each other up. Emily begged her to stay, but Margaret refused. *”Youre only twenty-eight, love. Youll find happiness again. I wont crowd you.”*
Three years later, Emily married Nicholas. But she never abandoned Margaret. Her own parents lived far away, so her first mother-in-law became familymore like a mother than Charlottes grandmother.
Fiona Victorias behaviour, then, came as a shock. She acted as though Emilys flat were her own domain. After her first visit, Emily asked Nicholas to remind his mother she was a guest herevisits needed arranging, boundaries respected.
When Fiona insisted she only meant to help, Emily replied, *”Im not eighteen. Even then, I was managing fine. And after seven years of marriage, I dont need lessons in housekeepingI could teach a few myself. Fancy me popping round yours with a white cloth, checking your corners?”*
To his credit, Nicholas backed his wife. If Fiona overstepped, he handled it.
Gradually, Fiona learned to keep her opinions to herselfmostly. When Emily had a son a year later, the unsolicited advice dwindled. But it rankled.
Fiona had a friend who boasted endlessly about *”training”* her younger sons wife. Naturally, Fiona wanted stories of her own. But she had nothing to brag aboutexcept one complaint: Emily still visited Margaret Louise.
*”Its not as if the old bats even proper family!”* Fiona grumbled. *”When Charlotte was little, I didnt mind her summers at Grannys. But the girls at university now, and Emily still trots over there twice a week!”*
The past year, Emily *had* visited more often. Fiona called Margaret *”the old woman”*though she was only seven years older. But grief ages you, and illness doesnt beautify. Margaret had faded fast. Emily visited her in hospital, at home, hired a carer, even took leave to sit with her when Nicholas was at work and their son at school.
*”Wasting family money on an outsider,”* Fiona sneered.
*”Dont fret, Fiona. Margaret sold her cottageshes not borrowing from you.”*
When Margaret finally passed, Fionas interest sharpened.
*”The cottage sold, but she couldnt have spent all that. And her pension was decentsurely theres savings. That two-bed flat mustve gone to someone.”*
She probed Nicholas first. The answer displeased her.
*”Whos the will for? Charlotte, of courseher own granddaughter.”*
*”And Emily gets nothing? After all that running about?”* Fiona scoffed. *”Id be weeping!”*
*”No need to weep for me,”* Emily said calmly. *”I knew Margaret was leaving it to Charlotte. I took her to the solicitor myself.”*
*”Then why bother with her?”* Fiona demanded.
*”Id explain, but I doubt youd understand.”*
The inheritance went smoothly. Charlotte got the flat and savings. Until she finished university, theyd rent it out, the income going to her. After graduation, shed decidemove back, sell it, or keep it.
Fiona saw an opportunity. *”Why let strangers wreck the place? Let Juliet live there.”*
Juliet, Fionas thirty-five-year-old daughter, still lived at home. Pretty, educated, employedbut perpetually single. Fiona was convinced a flat would change that.
*”Whys it so hard for her? Emilya widow with a childsnagged my Nicholas!”* she fumed privately.
She reasoned that in a few years, Charlotte might marry abroad, be persuaded to *gift* the flat to Juliet. But for now, she kept quiet.
Her disappointment was sharp when Charlotte refused. *”She wont pay proper rent, and Ill need every penny for a mortgagemaybe even London.”*
*”Greedy, just like her mother,”* Fiona spat. *”Only think of yourselves. Juliet couldve married with a flat!”*
*”Mum, youve got a three-bedder,”* Nicholas pointed out. *”Downsize, buy a one-bed for Juliet.”*
*”Cheeky devil!”* Fiona snapped. *”Thats my home. Im not cramming myself into some box in my old age!”*
*”Its not Nicholas whos cheekyits you,”* Emily cut in. *”Wont sacrifice for your own daughter, but expect someone elses child to?”*
So Juliet stayed put. Charlotte rented the flat, sold it after graduation, and bought a place in the city. She visited London once*”Nice to see, but not to live,”* she said.
**Lesson learned:** Blood doesnt make familylove does. And greed? Well, that just shows you who someone really is.
