The Cuckoo Cried Out at Noon
No, shes having a laugh now! Emily flared up. Ben! Come here. Right now!
Her husband, whod only just kicked off his trainers in the hall, poked his head around the bathroom door, already undoing his shirt collar.
Em, whats up now? Ive just got home from workmy heads pounding
Whats up?! Emily gestured to the baths edge. Have a proper look. Wheres my shampoo? Wheres the new hair mask I bought yesterday?
Ben squinted at the neat row of bottles, trying to focus.
There, proudly displayed, stood a massive bottle of some coal-tar shampoo, a litre-sized bottle of Burdock, and a weighty glass jar of thick, brownish muck, supposedly a face cream.
Err Mum brought her things over. Makes it easier for her, I guess, to have her bits to hand he mumbled, avoiding his wifes gaze.
Easier? Ben, she doesnt live here! And look down, will you?
Emily crouched and dragged out a washing-up basin from under the bath. Tipped inside were her expensive French toiletries, her loofah, and her razor.
So whats that, Ben? Shes chucked my stuff into this filthy basin, then lined hers up?
Shes decided my toiletries go by the mop bucket, while her precious Burdock gets pride of place.
Ben heaved a deep sigh.
Look, Em, please dont. Mums not in a good way, you know that. Let me just swap everything back over and well have some tea, alright? Shes made stuffed cabbage leaves for dinner.
I dont want her cabbage leaves, Emily said, clipped and cold. And why is she always here, anyway? Why is she acting as if its her place, Ben?!
I feel like a lodger here, lucky to be allowed to use the toilet.
Shoving past her husband, Emily stormed out, while Ben quietly nudged the basin and all her bits back under the bath with his foot.
If the nightmare of buying a homea problem millions facehad ever touched Ben or Emily, it was long gone now.
Ben had his own roomy one-bed flat in a new block, left to him by his grandad on his dads side.
Emily inherited a cosy flat from her nan.
After their wedding, they decided to settle into Bens flatnewly done up and had a proper aircon. They rented out Emilys place to a lovely couple.
As for Bens parents, it was a sort of armed neutrality that veered into polite fondness.
Sandra and her husband, always quiet and bookish Peter, lived on the opposite side of town. Once a week, tea and cake, the standard chat about health and work, the exchange of nice smiles.
Oh Emily, youre looking so slim, Sandra would say, plonking another chunk of Victoria sponge on her plate. Ben, are you feeding your wife anything at all?
Mum, were just hitting the gym, Ben would laugh her off.
And that was it. No surprise drop-ins, no tips on cleaning, no unwanted help.
Emily even boasted to her friends:
So lucky, my mother-in-laws an absolute gem. Never gives unwanted advice, never smothers Ben, and always minds her own business.
Everything collapsed on a drizzly Tuesday. Peter, after thirty-two years with Sandra, suddenly packed a suitcase, left a scribbled noteGone to the seaside, dont try to find me!blocked all their numbers and promptly disappeared.
Turned out, midlife madness wasnt just a saying, but a very real affair with an administrator from some Bognor Regis spa theyd visited together the last three summers.
For sixty-year-old Sandra, the world utterly crumbled.
At first it was tears, frantic phone calls at three in the morning, endless rehashing:
How could he? Emily, what did I do to deserve this?!
Emily really felt for her. She even ferried round chamomile tea and sedatives, listened to the same old stories a dozen times, and nodded along as Sandra railed against that old dog.
But soon enough, sympathy started wearing outrageously thin. The constant moaning began to grate.
Shes rung me five times this morning alone, Emily grumbled over breakfast. Wanted Ben to go fix her hallway lightbulb.
I mean, I get it, but when will it end?
Ben looked miserable.
Shes lonely, Em. Shes spent her whole life with Dad there, and now please, just bear with her, yeah?
She can change a bulb herself or get someone in! She just wants you or me overand I dont need this in my life.
Then came the sleepoversBen started shuttling over to his mums for the night.
Em, Mums scared to sleep alone, he admitted, bag in hand. Says the quiet freaks her out. Ill stay over for a couple of nights, yeah?
A couple of nights? Emily frowned. Ben, weve just got married. I dont fancy sleeping on my own half the week.
Its just for now. Shell be alright soon, and thingsll go back to normal.
Just for now ended up a whole month.
Sandra demanded Ben spend four evenings and nights a week by her side. She pretended her blood pressure was acting up, faked panic attacks, even kept blocking up the kitchen sink.
Emily could see Ben running himself ragged, trying to juggle two homes, and made a decision shed regret daily after.
***
She decided to be straight with Sandra.
Look, Sandra, she said at yet another Sunday roast, If you cant stand rattling round that house on your own, why not come here in the daytime?
Bens at work, I work from home half the time. You can come here, walk round the park, have a cuppa, and Ben will drive you back in the evening.
Sandra gave her the strangest look.
You know, Emily what a clever girl you are. Why SHOULD I sit all alone there?
Emily reckoned on a couple of visits a week, Sandra appearing around midday and leaving well before Ben got home.
But Sandra had her own ideashe turned up bang on seven in the morning.
Whos that? Ben muttered, half-asleep, hearing the doorbell ring loud and shrill.
He got up to answer it himself.
Its me! Sandras chipper voice chirped from the intercom. Got some fresh cottage cheese for you!
Emily dragged the duvet over her head.
Youre joking she hissed. Ben, its seven! Where the hell did she find fresh cottage cheese at this hour?!
Mums always up early, Ben mumbled, pulling on his joggers. Go back to sleep, Ill let her in.
From then on, things went rapidly downhill. Sandra wasnt just popping byshe spent eight solid hours there every day.
Emily tried working at her laptop, but in her ear, non-stop:
Em, why didnt you dust the telly? Ive got a clothlet me do it.
Sandra, Im busy, Ive got a call in five minutes!
Oh, youre always on about those calls. Just looking at pictures, arent you?
And by the way, dear, youre ironing Bens shirts all wrong. He likes a razor-sharp crease.
Come here, Ill show youwhile youre waiting for a client anyway.
Everything got criticised.
How she chopped vegetables: Ben likes them julienned, not cubed like its a school canteen.
How she made the bed; Bedspread should come right down to the floor, not straggling like this.
How the bathroom smelt: It ought to smell fresh, but here its just damp.
Em, dont take this wrong Sandra would peer in the pan, But youve oversalted the soup. Bens tummys never been right since he was a boy, didnt you know?
At lunchtime Emily was usually on the brink. Shed escape to a coffee shop, linger for hours, just to avoid the relentless nagging.
And when she came back, it just got worse.
First Sandras favourite cup appearedsome great vulgar mug saying Best Mum Ever.
Then her spare mac turned up on the hook by the door, and a week later a whole shelf in the wardrobe was cleared for her house slippers and a couple of fluffy dressing gowns.
Why do you need dressing gowns here? Emily asked, spotting a pink fluffy thing right next to her silk slips.
Well, love! Im here all day. I get tired, want to slip into something comfy. Were family nowwhy are you so huffy?
Ben would always reply to Emilys complaints the same way:
Em, just be the bigger person. Mums had her world fall apart. She needs to feel needed. Does it really bother you having her stuff on one shelf?
Its not about a shelf, Ben! Your mother is pushing me out of my own home!
Youre exaggerating. She cooks, she helps, and you hate ironingyour words!
Id rather wear creased shirts forever than ones shes ironed! Emily snapped.
But Ben acted like he hadnt heard her at all.
***
The bathroom bottles were the final straw.
Ben, come on! Sandra called from the kitchen. Dinners getting cold!
Emily, I did yours with less chilli, I remember youre not one for spicy food.
Emily stormed in to find her mother-in-law arranging plates as if she owned the place.
Sandra, Emily said, with forced calm, Why did you pack my things under the bath?
Sandra didnt even blink. She gently placed a fork by Bens plate and smiled.
Oh, you mean those little bottles? They were all nearly empty, just clutter really. And the smell was so strong, I got a headache. Put my own up there, theyre tried and true. Yours are tucked away safehope you dont mind. I mean, order had to be restored.
I do mind, Emily stepped forward. Its my bathroom, my thingsmy home!
Well, is it really yours, dear? Sandra sat heavily, dramatically sighing. Its Bens flat. Of course you run the household, but you do need respect for your husbands mother.
Ben, white as a sheet in the doorway, quietly said, Mum, come on Emily has her own flat too, we just happened to live here
Oh, that old place? Sandra waved dismissively. Bit of a granny flat, isnt it? Ben, come eatyour wifes in one of her moods again, must be hungry.
Emily looked at her husband. She waited.
Waited for him to say, Mum, thats enough. Youve crossed the line. Get your things and go home.
Ben hesitated, glancing from mother to wife and then just sat down at the table.
Em, please, just sit. Lets talk about it calmly. Mum, you shouldnt have touched her things
There, see? Sandra crowed triumphantly. My Ben understands. Emily, youre so possessive! Family means everythings shared.
Finally, Emily snapped.
Shared, is it? she repeated. Alright then.
She turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Ben shouted after her, but she ignored him. She packed everything in about twenty minutes, stuffed her things into suitcases.
She didnt bother with the bathroom stuffshed just buy new.
She left to the sound of two voices: Ben pleading with her to please calm down, Sandra all but wailing while slyly hurling little digs.
***
Emily had no intention of going backshe filed for divorce almost as soon as she walked out.
Her, now-ex-husband rings every day, hoping shell change her mind. Meanwhile, Sandra is quietly moving her entire menagerie of bits and bobs into Bens one-bed flat.
Emilys sure thats exactly what Sandra had planned all along.
