Mum, let me introduce you to Olivia, said Charles, his cheeks tinged with a touch of embarrassment, as he ushered the young woman into the flat at such an ungodly hour.
Good evening, replied Margaret, casting a cold and disapproving eye over this unexpected guest. What a delightful time for introductions! Five minutes to midnight
I told Charlie it was far too late, Olivia protested immediately, but does he listen? Stubborn as a mule, I swear!
Well played, thought Margaret bitterly. Shes defending herself and painting him as the villain. Not exactly charming, this one.
Come in, then, she sighed, retreating to her bedroom without another word.
What else could she do? Throw her only son out into the street in the dead of night? Over a stranger? If they wanted to live together, so be it. But a mothers job was to protect her son and open his eyes. Margaret would see to that soon enough. Charles would send his girlfriend packing, no regrets. Hed probably be relieved!
Margaret spent the whole night brooding, plotting how to drive Olivia out of the flat.
No, she wasnt against Charles marrying one day. At thirty, it was about time he settled down.
But not with her!
First of all, she was much younger. A clear sign her head was filled with nonsense.
A wife? A mother? A homemaker?
Then there was her behaviour: turning up at someones house at an absurd hour, without even apologising! And shed had the cheek to blame her darling son for it
And to make matters worse, shed stayed the whole night!
Was this her first time, or was it routine?
Frankly, Margaret just didnt like her.
Charles would soon feel the same, she was sure of it.
Why bother wasting time trying?
The plan would be unnecessary.
Olivia handed her all the chances she needed to set matters straight.
The first red flag sounded early the next morning.
She locked herself in the bathroom for an hour.
Charles, helpless, paced anxiously about the flat, growing more irritated by the minute.
Sweetheart, whats the matter? Margaret asked, her voice dripping with false concern. The young ladys just getting ready, wants to look her best for you
But I have to get to work!
Then knock on the door, tell her its not just her living here, his mother suggested.
Itd be awkward, he mumbled. Ill sort it out later. What about you, Mum, arent you going to be late?
Me? No, Ive been ready for ages. Here, Ive made pancakes. Come and have some breakfast.
I havent even washed yet!
Never mind, do it afterwards. For now, dont waste timefill yourself up, youll need your strength today.
Charles slumped down at the table.
Just then, Olivia finally emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped around her head, looking radiant.
At last! Charles exclaimed, hurrying to the steamed-up mirror.
He washed quickly, shaved in a flash, wolfed down a pancake in three bites, and, already heading for the door, called out:
See you tonight! I hope you two get on.
Charles! Olivia called after him. Werent we going to pick up my things today?
We will. This evening. Dont be bored! His voice echoed down the hall.
Margaret got up, shut the door behind her son, turned to Olivia, and snapped:
Arent you ashamed of yourself?
Not at all, Olivia replied with a bright smile. Should I be?
Charles will be late, thanks to you!
He wont. Hell grab a cab, Im sure. Dont worry, everything will be fine.
Regardless, remember this: youre not the only one living here. If you need an hour in the bathroom every morning, youll have to get up earlier. Im lucky Ive got the day off today.
It wont happen again, said Olivia simply. Sorry about that.
Margaret was speechless. Shed hoped for a row, and instead
Fine, whatever, she grumbled, stomping towards the bathroom.
The first thing she spotted was a new tube of toothpaste, open before the old one was finished.
Olivia, why did you open a new toothpaste?
I just prefer it.
I hope youre bringing your own next time? And your shampoo?
Of course, Mrs. Blackwell
And your towels, as well!
Ill bring them all
No matter how hard she tried to provoke a quarrel, Olivia didnt rise to a single bait. She nodded to everything, responding with polite agreement, making a note of her future duties.
Out of ammunition, Margaret attacked directly.
Why are you even here?
Charles and I we love each other.
Of course you love hima man like that! But what I dont understand is: what does he see in you?
I never asked him
And your parents?
Mum works at a sewing factory. Shes a seamstress.
And your father?
Never met him.
I see. Grew up without a father. And how do you expect to make a proper wife to my son?
Ill do my very best
You can try all you want, but it wont work. My son doesnt really love you. I know him. He just thinks he does! Hell never marry you! Why should he? Youre already at his beck and call.
He does love me, murmured Olivia, her voice trembling. Im certain.
Youre deluding yourself. You think youre the first?
No but it doesnt matter
Doesnt matter? Hell be bored of you in a week! Youre not good enough for him! Ever heard of intelligence?
Yes. But I think thats not the right word for whats needed here.
And whys that?
Ive got a uni degree.
So? Listen, dear, go back to wherever you came from. You dont belong here. Ive been trying to make that clear since this morning, but you simply refuse to hear it.
Fine, Ill leave. But what will you say to Charles? He wont be happy.
Thats none of your concern! Go, and dont come back. Youre not welcome.
Margaret was shocked by her own cruelty. Shed never imagined words like these would spill out unbidden, sharp as knives.
And Olivia?
The young woman looked at her, utterly understanding.
This was jealousy. They barely knew each other, and already hatred simmered beneath the surface. And this was only the beginning…
The front door banged shut: Charles was home early.
Already? snapped Margaret, hoping Olivia would be gone before he returned.
They let me off! he exclaimed happily. Said I had family business. Hear that, Liv? Family business!
What business? Margaret grumbled.
Were off to the registry office to make things official, then to pick up her things! Liv, start getting ready!
Margarets heart twisted. She realised shed lost far more than just a battleshe might have ruined her only chance of becoming a grandmother.
First Impressions
“Mum, I’d like you to meet Ellie,” said Chris, a little embarrassed as he introduced the young woman he was bringing home at such a late hour.
“Good evening,” replied Susan, eyeing the unexpected guest with clear displeasure. “What a lovely hour for introductions! Five minutes to midnight…”
“I told Cléo it was too late, honestly,” Ellie defended herself straight away. “But does he ever listen to me? Stubborn as a mule, that one!”
“Nice play,” thought Susan, bitterly. “She’s making excuses and painting him as a tyrant. Not very likeable, this girl.”
“Well, come in, then,” she sighed before retreating to her room without another word.
What else could she do? Kick her only son out into the night because of a stranger? If they wanted to live together, so be it. A mother was there to protect her son and open his eyes. And Susan would see to that, and soon. Chris would send his girlfriend packing with no regrets. He’d probably even be relieved!
All night, Susan plotted ways to get rid of Ellie from the flat.
Not that she was against Chris getting married. At thirty, it was about time he settled down.
But not with this one!
For starters, she was far too young. Proof he still had his head in the clouds.
A wife? A mother? A homemaker?
And her attitude spoke volumes: turning up at someone’s house at an indecent hour, no apology in sight! What’s more, she had the nerve to blame her darling boy without any good reason…
And she’d even spent the night!
Was this her first time? Or just a habit?
Anyway, Susan simply didn’t like her.
So Chris would end up feeling the same.
Why waste time?
Her scheming became pointless.
Ellie gave her plenty of opportunities to set things straight all on her own.
The first warning sounded first thing the next morning.
She locked herself in the bathroom… for an hour.
Chris, helpless, paced madly through the flat, getting angrier by the minute.
“What’s wrong, love?” Susan asked with exaggerated sweetness. “She’s getting ready, wants to look nice for you…”
“But I have to get to work!”
“Then knock, explain she’s not alone here,” his mother suggested.
“That’d be awkward,” he muttered. “I’ll talk to her later. Aren’t you going to be late for work, Mum?”
“Me? No, I’ve been ready ages. Look, I made pancakes. Come and have breakfast.”
“I haven’t even washed!”
“Tough, do it afterwards. Don’t waste time—eat up, you’ll need your energy today.”
Chris sat down.
At that moment, Ellie emerged from the bathroom, towel on her head, looking radiant.
“At last!” Chris cried, dashing to the steamed-up mirror.
He washed at lightning speed, shaved hurriedly, gobbled a pancake in three bites, and, already on the doorstep, shouted:
“See you tonight! Hope you get on!”
“Chris!” Ellie called after him. “We’re meant to pick up my things today!”
“We’ll go. Tonight. Don’t get bored!” His voice echoed down the stairs.
Susan stood up, closed the door after her son, turned to Ellie and snapped:
“Aren’t you ashamed?”
“No,” the young woman smiled. “Should I be?”
“Chris will be late because of you!”
“No, he won’t. He’ll probably get a taxi. Honestly, it’ll be fine.”
“Regardless, remember this: you’re not the only one living here. If you want to hog the bathroom for an hour, get up earlier. Luckily, I’m not at work today.”
“It won’t happen again,” Ellie said simply. “I’m sorry.”
Susan was speechless. She’d been hoping for a row, and yet…
“Fine then,” she grumbled, heading for the bathroom.
The first thing she noticed was a new tube of toothpaste, opened with the old one not even finished.
“Ellie, why did you open a new toothpaste?”
“I prefer that one.”
“I hope you’ll be bringing your own! And your shampoo?”
“Of course, Mrs. Lawrence…”
“And your towels!”
“I’ll bring those…”
Despite Susan’s best efforts to pick a fight, Ellie didn’t take the bait. She agreed to everything, nodded politely, and “noted down” her future duties.
Out of arguments, Susan went for the jugular.
“Why are you here?”
“Chris and I love each other…”
“Of course you do, anyone would love a bloke like him! But what I want to know is: what does he see in you?”
“I never asked him…”
“What about your parents?”
“Mum works at a factory. Seamstress.”
“And your dad?”
“I never knew him.”
“I see. An only child, no father. And how do you think you’re going to be a good wife for my son?”
“I’ll do my best…”
“You can try all you like, it won’t work. My son doesn’t love you. He just thinks he does. I know him best! He’ll never marry you! Why would he? You’re already at his feet.”
“He loves me,” Ellie murmured, her voice trembling. “I’m sure of it.”
“You’re deluding yourself. You think you’re the first?”
“No… but it doesn’t matter…”
“Doesn’t matter? He’ll be bored in a week! You’re not up to his standard! Know what intelligence is?”
“Yes. But I’m not sure it’s the right word in this conversation.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have a university degree.”
“So what? Listen, sweetheart, go home. This isn’t your place. I’ve been trying to get through to you all morning, but you don’t listen.”
“Alright, I’ll go. But what will you tell Chris? He won’t like it.”
“That’s not your problem! Off you go and don’t come back. You’re not welcome here.”
Susan was shocked at her own cruelty. She’d never imagined she could say such things. The bitter words tumbled out uncontrollably.
And Ellie?
She looked at Susan with utter understanding.
Her mother-in-law was jealous. They barely knew each other, and already there was hatred brewing. And it was only the beginning…
The front door slammed: Chris had come home early.
“Already?” snapped Susan, who’d hoped to see Ellie gone before his return.
“They let me go!” he exclaimed, delighted. “I said I had family business to sort out. Hear that, El? Family business!”
“What sort of business?” Susan grumbled.
“We’re going to the town hall to register our partnership, then pick up Ellie’s things! Get ready, El!” Chris called.
Susan, heart sinking, realised she’d lost more than a battle—she might have ruined her only chance to become a grandmother.
