The doorbell rang with the persistence of a hungry cat. Margaret wiped her hands on her apron and went to answer it. On the doorstep stood her daughter with a young man in tow. She ushered them inside.
“Hi, Mum,” said the daughter, kissing her cheek. “Meet Danielhell be living with us.”
“Evening,” the lad mumbled.
“And this is my mum, Auntie Margaret.”
“Its Maggie, actually,” she corrected.
“Mum, what are we having for dinner?”
“Pease pudding and sausages.”
“I dont eat pease pudding,” Daniel announced, slipping past her into the living room.
“Well, Mum, Daniel doesnt like peas,” her daughter said, blinking innocently.
The lad had already claimed the sofa, his rucksack dumped unceremoniously on the floor.
“Thats actually my spot,” Margaret pointed out.
“Daniel, come on, Ill show you where well be staying,” trilled Emily.
“Prefer it here,” he grunted, reluctantly standing.
“Mum, can you sort something else for Daniel to eat?”
“Dunno, weve got half a pack of sausages left,” Margaret shrugged.
“Sausages with mustard, ketchup, and a rollll do,” he declared.
“Right, then,” she sighed, heading to the kitchen. “First, it was stray cats and hamsters, now thisanother mouth to feed.”
She helped herself to the pease pudding, slapped two fried bangers onto a plate, and tucked in with relish.
“Mum, eating alone?” Emily swept into the kitchen.
“Well, Ive just got back from work, and Im starving,” Margaret said between bites. “If youre hungry, sort yourselves out. And while were at itwhys Daniel moving in?”
“Why? Because hes my husband.”
Margaret nearly choked.
“Your what?”
“Yep. Im an adultI can decide whether to marry or not. Im nineteen.”
“You didnt even invite me to the wedding!”
“There wasnt one. Just signed the papers. Now were married, so were living together,” Emily said, eyeing her mums chewing.
“Congratulations, then. Why no do?”
“If youve got money for a wedding, feel free to hand it overwell find ways to spend it.”
“Right.” Margaret kept eating. “And why here, exactly?”
“His place is a one-bed flat with four blokes.”
“Thought about renting?”
“Why rent when weve got my room?” Emily looked baffled.
“Ah. Got it.”
“So, are you feeding us or not?”
“Emily, the pease puddings on the hob, the sausages in the pan. If thats not enough, theres half a pack in the fridge. Help yourselves.”
“Mum, you dont understandyouve got a SON-IN-LAW now,” Emily said, stressing the last words.
“And? Should I break into a Morris dance to celebrate? Emily, Im knackered. Youve got hands and feetuse them.”
“No wonder youre still single!”
Emily stormed off, slamming her bedroom door. Margaret finished eating, washed up, wiped the counter, and headed to her Pilates class. She was a free woman, spending evenings at the gym or pool.
By ten, she was back, hoping for a cuppa. Instead, the kitchen looked like a student flat after a rave. The pease pudding lid was missing, leaving the dish dried and cracked. The sausage packet lay open, a lone bread crust beside it. The frying pan was burnt, its surface etched with experimental scratch marks. The sink was piled with dishes, and a sticky puddle of fizzy drink glistened on the floor. The flat reeked of cigarettes.
“Blimey. New record. Emilyd never let herself live like this.”
She opened her daughters door. The pair were sipping wine and smoking.
“Emily, clean the kitchen. And buy a new pan tomorrow,” Margaret said, turning away without shutting the door.
Emily leapt up and chased after her.
“Why should we? And where am I supposed to get money for a pan? Im a student! Too cheap to replace a pan?”
“Emily, house rules: make a mess, clean it. Break it, replace it. No ones exempt. And yes, pans cost moneythis ones ruined.”
“You dont want us here!” Emily shrieked.
“No,” Margaret said calmly.
Shed never seen her daughter like this before.
“But this is my home too!”
“No, the flats mine. I paid for it. Youre just registered here. If you want to stay, follow the rules.”
“Ive lived by your rules my whole life! Im married nowyou cant tell me what to do!” Emily wailed. “Honestly, youve had your lifeyou should give us the flat!”
“Youre welcome to the hallway. Or the bench outside. Married, are you? Doesnt mean you ignore me. Sleep here alone or with himbut hes not moving in.”
“Fine! Daniel, were leaving!” Emily screeched, grabbing her things.
Five minutes later, the new son-in-law barged in.
“Chill out, Mum, yeah? Were not going anywhere. Be nice, and well keep the noise down at night.”
“What model parents you are,” Margaret scoffed. “Yours are still at homego there. And take your new missus with you.”
“Yeah? Ill” He raised a fist.
“Go on, then.”
Margaret grabbed his wrist, her manicured nails digging in.
“Ow! You nutter!”
“Mum, what are you doing?” Emily yelped, trying to pull her off.
Margaret shoved her aside, kneed Daniel where it hurt, then elbowed him in the throat.
“Ill sue you for assault!” he howled.
“Wait, Ill call the policesave you the trouble,” Margaret said.
The pair fled the well-kept two-bed flat.
“Youre not my mum anymore!” Emily screamed. “And youll never see your grandchildren!”
“What a tragedy,” Margaret muttered. “Peace at last.”
She inspected her nailssome were chipped.
“All this damage for you lot,” she grumbled.
After they left, she cleaned the kitchen, binned the rock-hard pease pudding and the doomed pan, and changed the locks.
Three months later, Emily turned up at her work. She looked gaunt, hollow-eyed, and utterly miserable.
“Mum whats for dinner?”
“Dunno,” Margaret shrugged. “Havent decided. What dyou fancy?”
“Chicken and rice,” Emily swallowed. “And coleslaw.”
“Right, thenlets go find some chicken,” Margaret said. “You can make the coleslaw.”
She didnt ask questions. Daniel never reappeared.
