My ex-mother-in-law rang me up three days ago, not to ask how I was or to exchange a single pleasantry, but to sharply instruct me to return the jewellery her son had given me. Thats rightno hello, not a peep about my wellbeing. Just straight to the point, as if she were collecting debts for Her Majesty herself. Then, as if starring in a particularly dramatic EastEnders episode, she turned up on my flats doorstep, banged so hard I thought the neighbours would start recording, and, when I finally opened up, produced a drab little cotton pouch and proclaimed:
Ive come for whats mine.
I just stared at her, rather like a squirrel suddenly confronted by a Labrador. The jewellery she was demanding had been gifted to me by her darling son back when we were still blissfully unaware of each others countless flawsbirthday presents, anniversary trinkets, that sort of thing.
She promptly launched into a performance, telling me these were family heirlooms, that her son had no business giving them away, that they originally belonged to his grandmother and, out of decency, I should hand them back. Honestly, Id never had a clue they were heirlooms. Not a word was said, either when he gave them to me or when I showed them off at dinner parties. Shed never so much as hinted.
When I didnt invite her in, she started making quite the scene out in the hallway, announcing that if I had an ounce of decency Id return them, that since I was no longer with her son, there was no reason to keep things that dont belong to me. And the cherry on top: shes convinced Im still pining for him, as if Im camped outside his new place with binoculars, when factually, hes the one who cheated on me with a colleague and moved in with her faster than you could say Moving vans arent free. Havent so much as had a text since.
I calmly told her, look, if her precious boy wanted anything back, he could pop by himself and ask, but there was no way Id be returning gifts. That really got her going. She ranted how he was too ashamed to face me, how Id emotionally destroyed him, and she was simply trying to salvage what remains of her family. She even threw in a veiled threat about how, if I didnt hand over the jewellery, I might find myself paying for it online, whatever thats supposed to mean.
Eventually, desperate to prevent her from subjecting the whole building to this show, I let her into the lounge. I got out my jewellery box and displayed every single item, asking which piece was his grandmothers. She hadnt a clue. She just kept circling back to all of them.
Thats when it clickedshe wasnt after the jewellery, not really. She just fancied bullying me because her son had spun her whatever version suited him.
I told her, politely but firmly, that I wouldnt be returning a thing. If he wanted his so-called family trinkets back, he could ring me personally. She sighed, called me something rude on her way out, and has since taken to firing off angry messages on WhatsApp, which I have yet to open, let alone reply.
Frankly, I sleep perfectly well at night. My conscience is cleaner than a freshly washed Range Rover.
