Ill tell you how I ended up on my wifes side.
Mum, I said quietly.
What mum? Get them out! Or were leaving right now!
I gulped a breath.
Youre leaving, mum. Call a cab.
Wwhat? My motherinlaw, Evelyn, choked on the words. You youre shooing my own mother because of these people?
That evening Emma and I were at a snug Italian bistro in Covent Garden. George, my best mate, held Emmas hand and was recounting a funny mishap from work.
A candle in the centre of the table threw a soft glow over his face, and Emma, for the hundredth time, caught herself thinking she was happy.
The phone on the table buzzed out of the blue. The screen read: Mum.
My expression flipped in an instant the confident bloke Id been became a frightened teenager. I answered straight away.
Yes, Mum? Whats happened? I even rose from my seat. What? Who? Where are you?
Im on my way. Yes, of course. Just wait, dont cry.
Mum, love, settle down! Im coming.
I hung up and looked apologetically at Emma.
Emma, Im sorry. Theres a disaster.
Whats happened? she asked, eyes wide. Is Mum ill? Is she badly hurt?
No, I said, rubbing my neck nervously. Shes arguing with Uncle Vinnie, her flatmate. Shes sitting on a bench outside the block, crying.
She says theres nowhere to go, shes forgotten her keys, hes thrown her out I have to get there. She wants me to sort it out.
Gordon, shes fiftyfive, Emma murmured cautiously, now a little familiar with my past. Maybe she could call a cab and go to a friends house? Or head home? Why are you leaving? Were on a date.
You dont get it, I snapped, waving the waiter for the bill. Shes alone in the dark.
Emma, Ill drive you home. Im sorry, truly. Next time well stay in, okay?
That was the first alarm a sirenloud summons that Emma ignored. A year after wed met, she still chose to marry me.
***
My attempt to flee to another city blew up spectacularly.
Evelyn mastered video calls and messengers so well that distance meant nothing.
Why arent you answering? her voice rang out morning, noon and night from my handset.
I started to make excuses:
Mum, we were watching a film, we turned the sound off.
The film, you say and Mums lying here with high blood pressure. You only visit once every six months, and you both keep bickering.
Talk to me, then! Who am I, if not the one you raised?
Emma usually kept quiet. Arguing with her was pointless she never understood. I thought of my motherinlaw as a burntout actress; she never hit my mother outright, but she struck where it hurt most, in secret.
One summer we all gathered at a cottage. Friends and relatives turned up, a big, mixed crowd.
Emma flitted about with plates, setting the table, while I manned the barbecue.
Evelyn settled into a wicker chair, watching my sisterinlaw Ivy slice cucumbers for the salad.
What a housewife you are, Ivy, Evelyn called out, loud enough for everyone. Golden hands, gentle heart.
Emma froze, tray in hand. I tensed but stayed silent, turning the skewers.
It would be lovely if you married Emma, Evelyn continued, dreaming up a future. Wed live happily, soul to soul.
The veranda fell into a hush.
Mum! I finally found my voice and slammed a pair of tongs onto the table. What are you on about?
Whats so bad about it? she said, blinking innocently. Im just thinking aloud. Ive always liked Ivy.
Were married, Mum. I love my wife. Stop saying things like that, or well leave. Right now.
Realising shed overstepped, Evelyn tried to apologise.
Oh dear, I didnt mean to joke. Were all a bit on edge. Im sorry, Emma, I wasnt being malicious.
Emma swallowed her hurt without a word.
***
Five years after we moved, things settled down enough.
Yes, Evelyn still called regularly, showed up unannounced a couple of times a year, and whispered gossip about Emma to relatives, but it didnt bother Emma much.
When we moved back to our hometown, though, things went wrong again.
The final straw came after my fathers anniversary. Wed booked a banquet hall, invited everyone we could think of, and of course Evelyn turned up.
The evening was fine until the drinks loosened tongues. Emma went to the bar for water and saw Evelyn pinching Uncle Peter and Aunt Valerie family friends in a corner, whispering heatedly, tears slipping as she pointed at Emma.
Emma moved closer.
and she wont let me join them, can you believe it? she heard herself say. I have bags, gifts, and she wont even open the door. She says shes busy.
And youre sure shes not just?
My son works as a clerk, sees no light, and she spins ropes out of it.
Poor lad.
I tried to intervene, but before I could, two of Emmas best friends Maggie and Sophie drifted over, each clutching a couple of glasses of dry red, nothing left to lose.
Evelyn, Maggie, always proper, snapped, do you really have to keep lobbing this nonsense?
Evelyn gasped, choking on a sob.
What? How dare you speak to me like that?
Says who? Im speaking the truth, Sophie shot back. Weve known Emma for twenty years. And you sit there, eating at her expense and slinging mud on her? Have some shame.
Im telling the truth! Shes ruined my sons life
Your sons happy because of her! Maggie roared. Youve been sucking the life out of her for years, like a vampire.
The colas not right, the cottage isnt right just go home. Stay away for good.
A heavy silence fell, even the music died. I, standing by the snack table, went pale.
Gordon! Evelyn shrieked. Do you hear how these children talk to their mother? Do something!
I walked over, eyes darting between the angry mother, the furious friends, and Emma, who stood mute.
Mum, I whispered.
What mum? Get them out! Or were leaving this instant!
I drew a deep breath.
Youre leaving, Mum. Call a cab.
What? Evelyn choked again. You youre shooing my own mother because of these?
Youre insulting my wife, lying about her to her own family and friends. This goes on forever, Mum! Im exhausted, honestly. Please, just go.
The row exploded. Evelyn stormed out, cursing, promising to die on the restaurant doorstep, but she finally called a cab.
The night ended in a tangle. When we got home, Emma made a decision.
Im filing for divorce, she said.
I flinched, but didnt turn.
I understand, I replied hoarsely. You have every right to leave. I dont know how it got this far
It isnt just her, Gordon. Its you trying to sit on two chairs for years, never choosing.
I knelt, took her hands.
Emma, I love you. I dont want to lose you. Please, lets try Ill fix this.
How? she smirked bitterly. Give her up? Shes your mother. Thats forever, Gordon.
Ill give her up, Emma, if thats what you want.
We talked until dawn, our conversation circling, shouting, then apologising, finally reaching a compromise.
She wont come to us, I said. Never. Ill change the locks tomorrow. Block her everywhere.
I talk to her myself, on neutral ground, once a month. I wont bring her up at home. No more Mum says hello. She doesnt exist for our family.
What if she tries to break in?
She wont. I promise, Emma.
Emma stared at me, wanting to believe.
***
The locks were changed. Evelyns number was blacklisted wherever it could be.
I kept my word: I visited my mother once, came back looking bleak, and answered How are you? with a curt Fine. Lets have dinner.
Life should have been simple, but Emma still felt a coldness inside. She sat on the sofa, legs tucked, staring at a pregnancy test shed bought that morning but not used yet, terrified. Two weeks late, anything was possible
She imagined a baby, her first grandchild. Will Evelyn stay out of it? she wondered. No, shell stick her nose in, ruin everything again.
What are you thinking about? Gordons voice pulled her from the daydream.
Just the future.
He sat beside her, wrapped an arm around her.
Everything will be fine, love. Well get through this.
She rested her head on his shoulder.
Gordon, imagine children.
He smiled, kissed her forehead.
I only dream about that.
What about your mum? We cant deprive her of a grandchild.
He tightened his shoulders.
Theres your mum. Mine Im not sure what will happen. But I know one thing: I wont let anyone wreck our life.
If she pretends to be sweet, what then? With Ivy? Apologise, bring cupcakes
And then shell try to sap the childs mind?
Mums a bad person, dads a wimp
I turned to her, looked straight into her eyes.
So we wont give her a child. Never. Well hire nannies, ask yours, manage ourselves.
Emma, family is you, me, and whatever we have yet to bring into the world. Everyone else is a guest.
And if a guest starts dictating, theyre not welcome, even if theyre kin.
Emma exhaled.
You know, she said, pulling the test from under the pillow, maybe its time to see if this theory works in practice.
Are you serious? I asked.
She says shes overdue I dont know yet.
I pulled her close, nose to her neck.
Well manage, I whispered. Well manage.
***
Our son was born. Before the birth, George had set a condition: either Evelyn behaved like a decent human being, or she wouldnt be allowed near the baby.
Evelyn put in a massive effort. She never started to love Emma, but she treated her with respect. No more snide comments, no more outright insults.
