My Rules
No, Will, it really is wonderful that youve come! Mrs. Irene Preston sat across from her son, resting her small fists under her chin and smiling. I missed you so much. Eat up, darling. Would you like another meatball?
William shook his head politely.
No, thank you, he said.
Theyre not to your taste? his mother asked nervously, sitting upright. Her face, moments ago creased in soft contentment, now tensed with worry, eyebrows arching. I made them just as usual, didnt I I told your father you wont touch pork Honestly, I did! Is there an odd aftertaste?
Irene fluttered anxiously about, having waited so very long for Will and prepared enough food for an armyas though she were the head of the field canteen instead of a retiree from a Leamington chemist. Then this embarrassmentthe meatballs fell flat with her heroic-sized son.
No, Mum, dont start again! Theyre lovely, really. I just cant manage another bite.
William carefully placed the silver fork, delicate and far too dainty for his bear-like hand, back onto the plate, adjusted the minuscule napkinmore like a childs handkerchief. It was always a bit surreal, how this tiny Irene had produced such a strapping lad. But he took after his father, Michael. Michael was broad and brawny too; next to him, little Irene looked like a mere slip of a girl.
Honestly, Mum, dinner was fantastic! As always. Will got up and stroked his mothers shoulders, as if wrapping a warm coat around her. She immediately felt calmer, grounded, safe. Didnt you want to talk about something? Best get on, I need to dash off soon. I promised Emily wed pop into M&S for school things for Robbie.
Emily, whom Will liked to address as Emilia in his half-joking medieval way, was his wifea tidy, sensible, and stunning woman.
When Will first spotted her on the High Street, he walked straight into a lamppost he was staring so hard. Split his eyebrow, bled all over. Emily, startled by the clang inside the iron post, spun around with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Will stood there sheepishly, rubbing the post and fearing hed broken it.
They wound up together at the walk-in, where Emily fussed over him, young and naïve, holding his elbow, asking if he felt faint. Of course he felt faintthe world spun every which way, with a beauty like that beside him.
So they married. Now they had Robbie, their son; Emily worked as a speech therapist and often ran sessions at home, which suited her perfectly. No need to traipse all over Reading, more time for baking and laundry. Every morning Will would drive Robbie to his grammar schoolone of those up-and-coming academies for future scientists, secured by Emilys persistent appeals. All in all, they lived quietly and lovingly.
So wheres Emily? asked Mrs. Preston, clearing the table. She certainly knew Em had her private sessions, and business rarely stopped on weekends, but she was only putting off the question she ached to ask her son.
Shes got a couple of pupils today, I said already. And Robert Michael (Will was fond of using Robbies full name for its stately ring) hes buried in homework. Whats up?
Will took the cups from his mother and carefully placed them in the sink, as if they were glass slippers. Turning to her, he caught her gaze. Mum, youre spooking me. Dads not ill, is he? Hes been holed up for ages. Did something happen? Did you take a loan, get fleeced? Is everything mortgaged, organs and all? Is someone blackmailing you? Or did that twin brother of mine, who vanished from the maternity ward, finally turn up?
Will grinned, rather pleased with his own wit. The house seemed to twinkle and hum with springs awakening.
Obediently, he sank back to his chair, absently rubbing his round, food-filled belly, stretching his arms until he bumped the cupboard. The home really was snug, not like their own house out in Bracknellthree airy rooms, a balcony, a kitchen fit for a pub lunch. All gifted by Emilys distant relatives, whod moved up to Yorkshire for the crofts, air and space. Theyd bestowed the old flat and sent bags of potatoes, beetroots, something knobbly and white Emily called Jerusalem artichoke and always, always a bunch of dazzling asterslike fireworks, breathtaking shades and feathery petals. The asters and veg would arrive courtesy of Uncle Stephens battered van, the very man who once owned the Bracknell flat. Why he adored Emily so, Will never fathomed, but he respected Uncle Steve and always tinkered with the van if it hiccupped. Hed parade around in his palm tree shorts, loving life.
So, really thenI wanted to ask you something Mrs. Preston took a deep breath, hesitated, and slid a plate of ginger biscuits to her son. You do remember Mrs. Mary Lewis?
Will tensed and scratched his brow.
Of course, Mum! What about her? The biscuits, honeyed and glossed with icing, smelled too good. Will couldnt help himself: he stood, poured more tea, and nabbed the biggest one, stamped with Big Ben and the Palace.
Well, you see Mrs. Lewis was referred to your local hospital for her eyesshe needs surgery, I dont know what exactly, but its serious
Will chewed and listened. Did he remember Aunt Mary? He did. Shed lived across the same landing, looking after little Will when his parents were at work. Always in huge round glasses, eyes magnified and lashes fluttering behind the glass, like butterfly wings.
And? he prompted when his mother grew silent, nervously swiping crumbs into her palma sure sign she was worried.
Well Could she perhaps stay with you and Emily during her treatment? Rentings too dear for her, hotels too, and the journey back and forth is too much. Shes not as strong as she was I know it isnt easy having someone in your house, but only for a bit, and I do owe hershe practically raised you.
Will stopped chewing, drank a gulp of tea, wiped his lips and shrugged.
Well Well he stammered. Hed not factored in bunking with Aunt Mary, having to put away those palm shorts. And Emily wouldnt be able to singe into the kitchen in her slip at night. Still, needs must. Of course she can! She helped me, now Ill help her. He smiled, feeling terribly noble and uprightand certain Emily would be proud. Mum, too. Mrs. Lewis deserves care in her old age! he declared, quite satisfied with himself.
And as though blessing him in return, sunlight flashed above Irenes head, lighting up her happy eyes and leaping in golden rabbits along the wall. The church nearby pealed its bells, the notes tumbling so joyfully the soul wanted to sing.
Really? Oh, Will, Im so relieved! Thats just what I call a Good Deedwith capital letters! Im really proud you grew up so gentle and kind, she gushed, smoothing his hair.
If Emily were here, shed certainly have smirked at this performance, gently mocking her mother-in-laws adoration. But she wasnt, and for a moment, Will could be the good little boy, basking in his mothers praise.
He melted, resting his arms bonelessly on the table.
But Maybe I should ask Emily first his mother whispered, alarmed again. Will mumbled that Emily wouldnt mind, and, cuddling up to her hand, nearly dozed offso comfortable and glad to be such a paragon. Ill fetch Aunt Mary now, shall I, you can make arrangements directly Mrs. Preston fluttered away, newspaper crackling, while Will, pursing his lips, called his wife.
Emily listened as she tidied her makeuptouching up one eye, aiming for the next.
And how long? she asked, finally.
Um Two weeks, maybe? Em, its only fair Shes got no place to stay, needs help, Will pleaded.
But, Will, surely there are wards Shell Emily began. Will cut her off.
Yes, but after shell have to come for checkupsdoes she have to schlep forever? Youre such a welcoming hostess, and shes so tidy and polite, youll get on, and
You know, Emily sighed. I dont quite like any of this. I remember her at the wedding. She looked down her nosea bit of a stare. She doesnt like me, your Aunt Mary.
She does! She really likes you! Shell help with Robbie, too
Will, your sons sixteen. What help does Mary Lewis offer Robbie? Emily retorted, making fish lips for lipstick, then abandoned the effort as her mood soured.
Everything, Em. Wisdom! Shes lived a life! Will begged. You dont mind, do you?
Emily did mind, she minded a lot, but she couldnt say soshe didnt want to upset him.
Fine. Whens she coming? she asked stiffly.
Will conferred with someone in the background, then said, Sunday.
This one? Tomorrow? Emily looked round at the small, normal muddle of a lived-in house. Not fit for guests!
No one but Emily and her immediate family had ever seen it this way. She met clients in the kitchen-dinerbig table, lots of light, practical and roomy. Beyond that, no one entered. If guests were invited, cleaning became a military operation, top to bottom. Emily, unlike her girlfriends, was always squeamish about her domestic statecast-off sweater on the sofa, towels askew. Always tucking away the flaws.
But this Aunt Mary would prowl everywhere! Shed think Emily an appalling housewife!
Mopped floors, everything in order mean youre put together inside too! Emilys mother always preached in her head. First thing people notice is the tidiness. Youre a shambles, Emily! Its just not on. Why cant you hang up a shirt and a skirt? Youre a woman!
Emily shut her eyes, shook her head as if her mum were looming over her, looking abjectly at her own feet, convinced she was hopeless, and no one knows who she takes after
Next week, Will corrected.
Oh, well, thatsokay, she said weakly. Ill go tell Robs
So Emily had time to scurry through the domestic no-mans-land, scrub, soak, hang, press, wipe and polish everything to a mirror shine.
Robbie, upon hearing of the old ladys impending arrivalwho had nannied his dad since this hightook it with a teenage shrug.
Chill, Mum. Life is what it is, he said philosophically, watching his mother hurtle past with the vacuum. Were the local ecosystem, shes an alien species on a field visit. She adapts, or she doesnt. Survival of the fittest, I say.
Were not growing roots, Robbie, were being overrun! And next week, Ill have no time! For pitys sake, fetch the other vacuum! I refuse to be shamed before your dads family. Shell think Im hopeless and tattle to Grandma Irene.
Grandma sees you as you are, and she doesnt care! Robbie shrugged and left.
Emily grew more frantic. Half an hour later the bell rangthe first pupil, Andy, chubby and earnest, eager to turn on his engine with his tongue, blushing and beaming as Emily praised him, while she scanned the kitchen for something to fix.
The windows! Oh, I havent done the windows!
Windows so clean, you barely see the glassthats the sign of a good housekeeper, Emily. You always leave streaks her mothers voice chided inside her.
Will arrived, distracting her from the cleaning blitz, chatting all the way to the shops about how wonderful Aunt Mary was, how shed raised him; Emily only nodded and shrugged.
Dad, enough already, your second mum is coming, got it. Lets close the topic. Robbie snapped.
Emily silently thanked him.
The week hurtled by as if someone floored the accelerator and forgot to brake.
Saturday morning, Will set off to scoop up Mrs. Lewis, while Emily canceled her appointments and braced for guests.
Robbie was bundled off to get a haircut, the dogHarrybathed and petted within an inch of his life, windows blazing clean as Mum demanded.
Well be there about three, Em, Will announced. No rush, go about your day. Aunt Mary feels dreadful, afraid shes upsetting our happy life.
Alright, three sharp, I understand.
For lunch, Emily planned to roast a chicken, do potatoes, make a saladthe proper welcome.
Up at seven, she sent Robbie out to walk Harry, and basked under the hot shower, humming, And I dreamed, not of a cosmodrome roar trailing her soap opera aria, toweling off, robe tossed on, set to brush her teethwhen the lock clattered in the hall. Voices echoed, Harry barked joyously, Robbie sighed grumpily in the backdrop.
In the cloudy mirror, Emily glimpsed her own surreal appearancerobe, toothbrush, half-wet hair. How odd she felt to be welcoming guests so.
Here we are Will nodded at his wife, dragging in a bright red, enormous suitcase, followed by Mary Lewis herself, rosy with anticipation, gushing over the house, the décor, besotted with everythingsimply charming, my dear! But Emily knew she, the charming hostess, was in her dressing gown, hair like a ragamuffin, chicken still raw, the dogs paws muddy and trailing on the spotless floor Oh, what a hopeless hostess! Already Aunt Mary pursed her lips at Harrys tracks, and watched Emilys panicked dash for her room.
Well, heres your room, said Will, opening the door grandly. Make yourself at home. Ill fix us something in a jiffy. Just need to change.
Mary Lewis thanked him, closing the door behind her.
Why so early? hissed Emily, peeking from behind the wardrobe door. I wasnt ready! Will, youve humiliated me!
Sitting on the bed, Will admired his wifes reflection in the glossy wardrobea bass guitar curve to her hips, shoulders sloping like willow twigs.
Whats that? he replied.
I asked why youre so early? Emily snapped, smoothing her dress, fiddling with her hair. Zip me, will you?
Oh Aunt Mary has a doctors appointment, I forgot. We set off early, he shrugged, moving to help her, angling for a kiss she deflected.
Why so much luggage? she asked.
Er Who knows? Women, youre all hoarders at heart, barefaced peddlers, Will grinned, feeling clever with another joke.
They sat to breakfast. Emily fried eggs, Robbie, seeing her frazzled, made sandwiches.
Mary Lewis entered at the end, glancing about. She claimed the seat beside Robbie.
Bon appétit. What a homely nook you have here. Emily, I recall giving a porcelain poppy tea set at your wedding no? Or was it someone else?
Emily shrugged. The tea set had smashed the day afterWill had dropped the box on the staircase. All in shards.
Will munched silently. Anything about poppies and porcelain escaped him.
I must have mixed it up. Emily quickly poured coffee for everyone.
Im in the draught, Emily, Mary Lewis said primly. Might I swap for your chair?
Robbie stared at his mother, who looked lost.
Will squared up. He was guardian, organiserhed fix everything.
Em, do move up. Cant have Aunt Mary catch a chill before surgery! he said, moving his wife beside him and seating the guest with care.
Aunty Mary used to change Wills nappies when he was tinytricky boy, never ate well. Difficult, difficult child, Aunt Mary announced.
Emily swallowed hard. Robbie smirked.
And you, young man, should get on with your homework. Will always did his in the morning, so the minds fresh, Mary said, tidying away Robbies dishes and glancing at Emily, who was mortified.
Robbie, cup in hand, hmphd and left for his room.
After breakfast, Mary retreated to her room, sounds of her rearranging belongings, and called Will to shift the telly.
You havent many books, have you? she commented while seeing Robbie off to football. He should read some classics, say, Dickens. Ive brought a few favourites. Tonight well see what hes readand not readWilly.
Sure, Aunt Mary. Not just football all the time! Turn him into a proper man of letters! Will chimed in, winking at Robbie, tossing him his kit bag.
He knew Aunt Mary always packed Dickensplacing it on café tables, clutching it at the theatre, even taking it to bed (never reading a word, but looking terribly respectable). Shed doubtless parade Dickens in hospital toolet the staff know she was a lady of culture.
Robbie left, then Will.
What time must you leave? Emily asked Mary Lewis.
Me? Oh. By one, yes, must get prepared. Emily dear, does Robbie have a girlfriend yet? Will had all the girls running after him, even in year six! His first was Rita very pliant, like Play-Doh, did whatever you askedlovely, wasnt it? Oh, and you might want to put the dog away! she popped her head into Emilys room. And that shoe rack must godangerous, Ill trip over See? Oh, there! Sure enough, Mary stumbled on the rack, shoes scattering, loafers, Emilys pumps. Just so, its not healthy to wear such shoes But thank you for having me, Emily!
Having patted Emilys shoulder, Mary slipped into the lift.
Emily waited, then shut the door.
Mum, whys she bossing us about? moaned Robbie, back from practice, patting Harrys head. Harry whimpered.
Shes just used to bossing. Its only for a while, Rob. Bear with it.
Emily felt ashamed before her son, before Harry, for suddenly having no say in her own home. But what could she do? How can you rebuke the lady who changed your husbands nappies?
That evening, Aunt Mary commandeered the kitchen for mass production of stuffed cabbage, giving everyone a job. Will fluttered around, practically carrying the guest around like Queen Victoria.
Worse was to come. Monday morning, Mary set the alarm, roused everyone for aerobics.
When is your surgery? Emily gasped at last, after a round of frantic calisthenics. Aunt Mary, a fitness devotee, had a timer on her phone: forty seconds of movement, ten of rest.
Robbie bailed immediately, off to school. Will, however, soldiered on.
Go on, Em! Nearly there! he cheered his wife, muscles burning.
So? Emily repeated.
Tomorrow. Theyll admit me then. Will you visit, Will? Mary asked, sounding pathetic.
But its just two days Its minor, Mary! Will protested, then nodded anyway.
Monday was a minefield. Emilys lessons dropped one by one: children ill, away, or parents refusing to commute. The phone rang ceaselessly. Crows cawed outside. Mary Lewis played Matt Monros On Days Like These, crooning, tapping her foot. Through the glass panel, Emily watched her sway.
Shes only anxious, Will explained. Whenever she worries, she listens to Monro. Calms her nerves.
That evening, determined to keep busy, Mary summoned Robbie for a reading from Great Expectations, but the boy baulked. Aunt Mary stared in disbelief, endured his rant (hed read it last year), then stormed to her room, and called Emily. Emily, on the go and phone cradled against her ear, muttered shed fetch her own pupil, little Andy, since his mother claimed he was too tired.
No! Mary suddenly snatched the phone. No, and I mean it! If you want your son to succeed with the best speech therapist in the county, youll bring him here right now! Or dont come at alldont expect sympathy later! Who am I? The Secretary to Miss Emily Preston. Goodbye.
She returned the mobile to Emily and stared out the window. Emily shifted restlessly, breathing fast, then suddenly snappedenough was enough. Even Robbie came to listen.
You know what, Mrs. Lewis? Stop interfering in our lives! Or in my work! And keep to your cabbage in your own kitchen! I dont care how many nappies you changed for my husbandenough! Stop bossing us around. Read your Dickens, do your aerobics, whatever you likejust not in my house! And Harry, the dog, will lie wherever I say. And I will buy tinned food if I want, even though you called it unhealthy this morning. This is my life, my home, my pupils, and I will decide for myself. I hope your operation goes well and youre home quicklyvery much so!
Robbie applauded, Harry whimpered happily at Emilys knees, and Mary, finally turning from the window, smiled.
Emily was floored, certain thered be a verbal scolding. But
Thats good, Emily. Never, ever bow and scrape, not unless its a matter of life or death. Always say your clear no. I was just worried you were too soft, bending so people wouldnt think ill of you but thats no good. Let them think what they like, you hold firm. No means no. If you want me gone, just say so. Makes life simpler, and your heart calm. Be brave, Emilylive as you want. Forgive the old bat. I always was a provocateur. Will knows Oh, dont look like that! Im just scared about surgery. Harry, good doggie, well trained. She bent and ruffled the dog. Anyone for jelly? I brought wonderful apple jelly from home. Robbie, fancy some?
Robbie rolled his eyes. Hed always suspected women were strange, but this was over the top.
The bell rang. Andy, the chubby pupil, had arrived. After his lesson, he too got a jelly. His mother drew Emily aside, apologised, begged not to be struck off the list.
Or should I speak to your secretary? she ventured, pointing at Mary.
No. Youre fine. He did great, Emily winked at her secretary.
That evening, with Will and Robbie off to play FIFA, Mary Lewis nestled in, recounting how Will once scratched her wallpaper, how she scolded while he sulked and turned away, how he almost drowned chasing across thin ice on the pondMary crawling on her belly to haul him out, reviving him with tea and honey That girl RitaI never liked her, no backbone Im not sorry about the poppy set either. You smashed it for luck, thats why youre so close-knit. Will always forgives me. And Emily, forgive me too. Thank you for sheltering me. Youre lovely.
Melting jelly in saucers, dusky shadows deepening outside, the eastern sky flushing orange and red.
Its time whispered Mary. Theyll expect me for eight
Will ushered her into the car, driving empty streets. Emily came along, sitting beside Mary, feeling her tremble slightly.
Ill call tonightdont argue! Then back to ours, Emily insisted.
Mary nodded. It was good to stay with the young folk, such fun. Robbie especiallyso bold, unlike his father. But, as Robbie said, that was just his internal ecology, unchangeablebut always worth exploringEmily and Mary shared a long look in the cars milky light, their faces glowing softly. Neither spoke, but something lighter passed between them: a private treaty, an acceptance that families, no matter how shuffled or makeshift, worked best with a little mess and honest boundary-drawing.
Will steered through the predawn hush, humming tunelessly. Mary, hands folded on her lap, finally reached across and squeezed Emilys fingers.
I mean it, dear. Thank you for standing your ground, she whispered.
Emily smiled, uncertain, but at peace. She watched streetlamps flash by, remembered her own mothers scolding voice, and realized she felt free of it for the first time. In the mirror, Will grinned back at her, his eyes proud. She felt Robbies cheer echo down the halls at home, the dog skittering over polished floors, their house glowing with new, imperfect warmth.
Outside the hospital, Mary straightened her coat, squeezed Wills arm, and gave Emily a wink. See you in two daysunless they keep me for talking too much, she smirked, and was wheeled inside.
Back home, the house felt enormous and airy. Sun rose on streakless windows. Harry sprawled on Emilys lap, Robbie rumpled her just-tidied sofa on purpose, Will banged the kettle with gleeful precision. The door still echoed with Marys mischief, but Emily laughed, feeling wholly herself. Their little worlduntidy, loud, and fullwas right again, lived by their rules.
As the first rays washed the table, Emily found herself humming, softer now, her own song surging behind her teeth:
No more bracing for someone elses judgment. No more bowing. Just the gentle, stubborn thrum of homesometimes messy, sometimes loud, but altogether their own.
And in the kitchen, as the kettle boiled and Harry barked and Robbie clattered in with muddy boots, Emily smiledknowing that in her house, at last, her word truly was law, and her heart would never have to tidy itself away again.
