I was out on the balcony bringing in the laundry when I heard our downstairs neighbour shouting my husbands name through the hallway.
It was a Saturday afternoon. The sun was beaming straight onto the washing line and the air carried that unmistakable scent of dust and warm tarmac. I leaned over the rail and spotted Thomas, standing by his car, and next to himmy mother-in-law.
Now, that was the strange bit.
She lived across town and never popped round unannounced.
I hastily grabbed the pegs and darted inside. Before Id even made it to the hallway, I heard the key turn in the lock.
The door swung open and in marched Thomas and his mum.
She lugged in a large canvas bag. Thomas had the look of a man hoping for a swift exit.
Didnt expect any visitors, I said.
We wont be long, she replied, unhurriedly slipping off her shoes and eyeing up the hallway like a property developer.
I left the soggy pegs on the sideboard and watched them trail into the living room.
Whats going on?
Thomas avoided my eye, perching on the edge of the sofa.
My mother-in-law plonked the bag on the table.
Ive brought a few bits over from the cellar, she said.
What sort of bits?
She began unloading the bag, one item after another. An old photo album. Two yellowing notebooks. And finallya small wooden box.
My stomach dropped. I recognised that box instantly.
It was my grans box.
It had sat in our cupboard for years.
Where did you get that from? I asked.
The cellar.
But it was here.
She shrugged.
Thomas took it down a while ago.
I stared at him.
Why?
He ran a hand through his hair.
I didnt think it mattered.
Didnt matter? Thats my grans box.
My mother-in-law lifted the lid. Inside was an old watch, two brooches, and a very small, folded note.
Family things, she said, as if discussing the weather. They should stay with the family.
I am the family.
She looked at me like Id started speaking Old Norse.
Youre his wife.
The living room fell silent.
Out in the street, someone slammed a car door.
What exactly are you getting at? I asked.
Thomas finally met my eyes.
Mum thinks some of this should go to my sister.
Your sisters never even met my gran.
Shes family though.
His mum nodded, dead serious.
Its only fair.
I looked at the watch in the box. My gran wore it every day. I remembered her handing it to me one evening in the kitchen as she peeled apples.
She only said one thing:
Keep it, because people forget whats theirs.
I closed the box.
No.
My mother-in-law frowned.
Whats that supposed to mean?
It means those things stay here.
Thomas sighed.
Dont make a scene.
Me? Make a scene?
My voice wobbled, but I held my ground.
You take things from our home without a word and Im making a scene?
My mother-in-law stood.
Were just talking.
No. Youve already decided.
She put her hand on the box.
Ill just take itfor now. Well talk properly later.
Something snapped in me.
I grabbed the box and hid it behind my back.
No one is taking anything from this house.
Thomas shot up.
Emily, enough.
No. Youenough.
I stared him down.
Was it you who took the box to the cellar?
He was silent.
And that silence said everything.
My mother-in-law shook her head.
Amazing how ungrateful people can be.
I tucked the box back into the cupboard and shut the door.
Sometimes you realise where the boundary is, not when someone steps over it, but when someone else stays silent and lets them.
I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the pair of them.
Tell me honestlywas I overreacting, or were they actually trying to take something that wasnt theirs?
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