**The Wise Mother-in-Law**
When my youngest son got married, the older children had long since moved awaymy daughter had wed and gone off to Manchester with her husband, and my son had headed north to Scotland for work. I always knew the older ones wouldnt stay long in our little village. My daughter adored the finer things in lifeas a girl, shed plastered her walls with magazine cut-outs of fancy dresseswhile my son had maps pinned up, dreaming of far-off places rather than cowsheds and vegetable patches. But my youngest, George, had always been my boy. When his father passed, he took my hand and said, Mum, Ill never leave you. Ill always stay with you.
I remember standing at the graveside, whispering, *How will I manage without you, John?* My daughter wept, my eldest stood silent as ice, but little George, barely twelve then, stayed close all through the funeral, offering me his thin shoulder to lean on. He kept his word, tooeven while away at school, he visited nearly every weekend. So when he married, he found a girl willing to settle here in the village. He built a house, though not on our streetno room left nearby. He begged me to move in with them, but I refused. Two mistresses under one roof? No, thank you.
His wife was called Zoe. Big blue eyes, hair so long it nearly reached her waist. George brought her back from the citytheyd studied together, and as he confessed to me, hed fancied her for ages, but shed never noticed him. Till now, apparently. The wedding was lively, crammed with relatives. I liked hera spirited girl, just what George needed. So what if she didnt know her way around a kitchen? I could teach her.
The first row came a week later, when I popped in to help with soupGeorge had always had a weak stomach. Zoe snapped at me, said my hands were dirty and Id touched the bread with them. Well, what else was I supposed to touch it with? I didnt argue, just left. That evening, George asked me not to come by when he wasnt homeZoe got nervous.
Dont take it to heart, Mum, he said. Shes expecting, thats all.
And I didnt. Grandchildren would be a blessingsomething to fill the hollow left when the others moved away.
When the baby arrived, the house swarmed with visitorsher parents, friends, even her sister. I tried to say newborns shouldnt be crowded like that, but Zoe called me superstitious and shot George a look. He asked me to stop fussing and just make tea. So I did. Fed everyone, washed up, all while stealing glances at my granddaughterso tiny, so perfect.
May I hold her? I asked.
Zoe eyed my hands. Wash them first.
I just did the washing-up!
Exactly. Must you be so untidy?
Her parents stared, and I flushedmaybe she was right.
I held her eventually. She smelled so sweet. A beautiful girl. Zoe even softened after that, letting me visit while George was at workshe was falling behind on chores, and I was glad to help. Still, she always found a way to jab at me, rarely letting me hold the baby, but I got used to it. It stung, but what could I do? My son loved her. The only real hurt was when she refused the pink babygrow Id bought.
Did you get this at the market? My daughter wont wear this! Its Aprilshell boil in a babygrow!
They named her Emily, after Zoes sister, and George swore the next girl would be named for me. I doubted Zoe would want many children, so I didnt dwell on it. But I was wrong.
At Emilys first birthday, they announced another was coming. Zoes mother gaspedtoo soon!but I chimed in that my own children had been close in age, and it was fine. Zoes sister pursed her lipsshe always did that when I spoke. Still, everyone congratulated them. Zoe, glowing, said she hoped for a boy.
And so it was. A boy they named John, and I weptId never dared hope theyd name him after his grandfather.
I adored that boy. Zoe had a hard time with the birth and gave up resisting meletting me help with the house and the children, especially little John. He spent most of his first year in my arms.
Zoe stayed in bed, complaining of headaches. Shed put on weight and blamed me for baking pies. But how could I stop? George loved them. I didnt think her plump at allsoftness suited her. Still, I stopped baking.
Then came little William. Pale, delicateit hurt to look at him. I expected Zoe to take to her bed again, but she surprised me. She nursed him with a fierceness Id never seen. Learned to cook, to massage him, kept the house spotless. I took the older ones off her hands, and she needed nothing more.
The children grew. William stayed frail, so I helped with school runs, especially after a local girl went missing. The police searched for weeks before finding her in the riverand not by accident. George panicked and begged me to walk them to school. After, Zoe or George fetched them.
William had some rare condition. I pressed George for details, but he just snappedcouldnt accept his son would always be this way. Zoe said I wouldnt understand with my village education. But he seemed finepale, big-headed, downy-haired, but bright.
Zoe doted on him, blind to everything else. I knew before she did that George was seeing the shopgirl, Kate, and tried to shield her. But gossip spreads.
One day, the children walked home alone. William told me when I came for them the next morning.
Gran, we dont need you to take us! I scared off some dogs yesterday, and we didnt get lost.
Emily was terrified of dogs. But that wasnt the pointwhy hadnt Zoe met them? She always took William out at that hour.
I found her puffy-eyed, sniffling.
How can I show my face now? she wailed. Everyones pointing at me! I bought yoghurts for William from her every day!
Enough of that, I said firmly. Wash your face, tidy up. Were going to the shop.
To my surprise, she listened. An hour later, we marched to the high street, pushing William in his pramhe still struggled to walk. Kate, behind the counter, lifted her chin and smirked.
Kate, wed like some butterthe good kind. George loves his cheese pie, and Zoe makes it just right. Fresh cottage cheese too, and those fancy chocolatesZoe adores them. My son spares no expense for his wife. His pay came in todaytold her to spend it all.
Zoe caught on, joining in. As Kate bagged our things, she blurted, He promised me a phone tomorrow. With a camera. Who needs your chocolates?
I nudged Zoe*dont fret, that phone wont happen.* We left, baked a pie that afternoon, and left George none. When he peeked under the towel, he frowned.
Didnt save me any?
Sorry, we ate it all, I lied. Have some soupbetter for you. Oh, and Zoes got a job. Remember Uncle Alf? Hes opened a delivery service, needs a telephonist. Good pay, decent driverstheyll treat her right.
What about William?
Thats what Im here for. Give us some moneyshe needs new clothes, a proper haircut. Go on, then.
He didnt dare refuse. I emptied his wallet. *Now lets see you buy that phone for your bit on the side.*
I hadnt spoken to Alf yet, but hed fancied me oncehe hired Zoe as a second telephonist.
Dont row with George, I advised. Act like you dont know. Be indifferentno affection. Just tend the children, the house, talk about work.
I praised Zoe to Georgewhat a homemaker, such a devoted mother, and so pretty! What else could I do? If they split, shed take the children.
My plan worked fast. Kate likely raged over her missing gift, while home was peaceful, his wife suddenly polished and out early. He even met her from work after a driver dropped her off twicemy idea, but I told her not to flirt, just ask as a favour. Within months, George avoided that shop, and Zoe glowed. William missed her, but he thrived with meno use giving up on him.
Easter Eve, Zoe arrived flushed, eyes sparkling.
Im expecting again, she said. Saw the doctor todayits a girl!
Id seen the signs. And
