I shant be going to my mother-in-laws any longerif you must, go by yourself and take your sister along.
Helen, for the first time, put her foot down with her husband and refused to put up with it any further.
Helen, darling, its me, open up!
The sound of the bell pierced the stillness of the flat. Helen put down her mop, wiped her hands on her apron, and pressed the speaker button. Her mother-in-law, Margaret. On her one day off, when Sophie was at nursery and she could finally set about cleaning in peace.
Margaret bustled in, out of breath, carrying a bag in her arms.
I was just at the clinic for some tests. Thought Id drop by and bring something for you. Here, raspberry jam for little Sophieshes rather fond of it.
Thank you, said Helen, putting the jar on the sideboard. Come in, Ill put the kettle on.
Only stopping for a tick.
That tick became almost an hour.
The mother-in-law sat in the kitchen, sipping tea, telling tales of her blood pressure, the neighbours dog that was always off the lead, and Vicky, whod rung from another town to complain about her boss.
Helen nodded, kept the tea topped up, and cast the odd glance at her bucket in the hall. Half the flat was still waiting to be cleaned.
Why do you look so worn out? squinted Margaret. Youre pale as anything.
Im perfectly fine. Id just started on the housework.
Ah, I see. Youre a good homemaker, thats certain.
Margaret sipped her tea and paused. Helen had learned to read those silencesthis was when the real reason for the visit would emerge.
Helen, Id like you all to come round this weekend. Ive bought wallpaperthe bedrooms in a dreadful state. David can help me put it up.
Helen gripped her teacup. For five years now shed heard these sorts of requests.
Ill mention it to David when he gets back.
Good, glad thats settled.
The mother-in-law finished her tea, kissed Helen on both cheeks, and left satisfied. The jam jar remained on the cabineta token of the bargain struck.
That evening, Helen met David as soon as he came through the door.
Your mum popped round. She wants us over on Saturdayto put up wallpaper.
Well, if it must be donewell go, shrugged David. Its hardly a big deal.
She said its just the wallpaper.
David missed the irony altogether and wandered into the kitchen to open the fridge.
Well be finished by midday. Shes on her own, she needs the help. And Sophie can play out in the garden.
On Saturday, they packed up the car by eight. Sophie grumbledshed been woken too early. David turned on the radio and tapped the steering wheel in time.
Forty minutes later they reached the house.
Margaret greeted them at the gate.
At last! Ive been waiting. In you come, Ive made a proper pie.
They sat down at the table. Sophie ate, David drank tea, and Margaret asked about work and nursery.
Helen waited. She knew exactly what was coming.
And right on cue, Margaret produced a folded sheet of paper.
David, after the wallpaper in the bedroom, have a look at the fence by the raspberriesa couple of boards are loose. And the step on the porch is squeaking.
David nodded calmly.
And you, Helen, can help me indoorsthe windows need a good wash, and we havent had a proper clean in ages.
Granny, what about me? Sophie piped up.
Sophie dearest, Ill put a film on for you. Mum and Nanny have work to do.
Within an hour, Helen was scrubbing floors.
Then washing windows.
Then tackling the cooker, the fridge, and the cupboards.
Margaret sat issuing instructions.
Id do it myself, but my hands and back are killing me.
By midday, Helen could barely stand.
David had done the wallpaper, fixed the fence, and was now sat on the porch with his phone.
Soon, the neighbour dropped in.
They settled down, turned the football on, and opened beers.
Helen was still cleaning the windows and watched them through the glass.
They didnt leave until nearly nine that evening.
Helen drove.
David slept beside herhed had a few beers.
Sophie was asleep in the back.
Helens hands reeked of bleach. Her back ached.
Why so quiet? David asked.
Im just tired.
Youll rest tomorrow. At least we helped Mum out.
On Monday at work, her friend Catherine asked,
You lot really go over to your mother-in-laws every Saturday to work?
Well, she asks us.
And her daughter?
She lives far away.
Catherine laughed.
How convenient. So the daughter gets to live off, and since youre close by, you get lumbered.
Helen said nothing.
And David?
He sticks up wallpaper then has a beer with the neighbour.
Catherine shook her head.
Thats not helping. Thats a set-up.
A week later, it was the same story.
Well go to Mums again on Saturday, David said. The tomatoes need picking.
Helen gripped her spoon.
Again?
For the first time, she said,
Im not going to your mothers again.
David looked up.
What do you mean?
Im worn out. Every Saturday for five years. Jars, cleaning, chores. Enough.
But Mum
Let Vicky come and help.
She lives far away.
And Im nearby, so Im obliged?
On Saturday, David went on his own.
He came home that evening exhausted.
That was tough, he admitted.
Now do you see how its felt for me?
He nodded.
Im sorry.
Helen sat beside him.
I dont mind helping. But not every Saturday. And not because I have to.
For a while, Margaret didnt ring.
Sometimes David would go alone.
And Helen finally had real weekends to herself.
And for the first time in years she realised something important:
Sometimes the hardest thing isnt the work itself.
The hardest part is to finally say, Enough.
And what about you?
Ought a daughter-in-law to be at her mother-in-laws beck and call if its become nothing but a duty?
