**A Broken Laptop and a Mother-in-Law’s Blame**
Dennis and Emily decided to celebrate their anniversary with a quiet dinner at a cosy café in the heart of Manchester. They returned home well past midnight.
“Finally decided to show up!” Dennis’s mother, Margaret, greeted them from the doorway, arms folded. “Where on earth have you been? I’ve been looking after the grandchildren all by myself!”
“Mum, what’s wrong?” Dennis frowned. “You adore Laura’s kids.”
“Too much for you to handle?” Emily added, slipping off her coat.
“Off gallivanting while I’m run ragged!” Margaret snapped. “And where’s their mother, then?”
“She’s busy—so you two get to relax!” Margaret jabbed a finger toward the kitchen. “Wash the dishes! Had your fun, now do your share!”
Dennis scowled and flipped open his laptop. Then his hands froze. His blood ran cold at what he saw.
—
After the wedding, Dennis and Emily had rented a flat. But money grew tight, and they had no choice but to move in with his mother. Emily’s parents lived in a cramped one-bed with her younger brother—no space for them. Dennis had switched jobs for lower pay but better prospects.
“Em, it’s temporary,” he’d insisted. “We’ll save money at Mum’s. She lives alone—just my sister popping in sometimes with her kids. We’ll manage.”
“I could pick up extra work,” Emily had suggested. “So could you.”
“What, grind ourselves to the bone?” Dennis had snapped. “I’m at the office all day, then dash off somewhere else? Come home just to sleep? When do we live?”
“And living with your mum counts as living?”
“Money’s tight, Em! If we save, we’ll get our own place faster.”
Emily had stayed silent. The thought of living with her mother-in-law made her uneasy. She’d met Dennis’s nephews—Laura’s rowdy, spoiled boys—only once, at the wedding. No pleasant memories there. But they’d had no choice.
“So, what’s the fuss?” Margaret had said when they arrived. “Better than wasting rent on strangers. We’ll split bills three ways—you two pay two shares, I’ll take one. Same for food. I’ll shop and cook. You clean.”
“Alright, Mum,” Dennis had agreed. “Em, sound fair?”
“Yeah,” Emily had sighed.
At first, it worked. They came home to hot meals, breakfast waiting in the mornings. Emily took freelance work online, but weekends were ruined by the boys’ visits. Laura barely showed, dumping them there from Friday to Sunday.
Cleaning was hopeless with them around—chaos followed their every step. They’d burst into the bedroom if Dennis and Emily slept in.
“Dennis, ask your mum to take them,” Emily begged once. “We’re still asleep!”
“They’re just kids,” he’d brushed her off. “My nephews, so yours too. Deal with it.”
“I was working half the night!”
“Nobody forced you. Fine, I’m up. Meeting the lads for fishing—back by evening.”
“And me? Left alone again?”
“Mum’s here. Want quiet? Hand them your laptop.”
“Brilliant! Give them *yours*,” Emily scoffed.
“I’ve got work files,” he shot back. “What, yours are more important?”
“I’ve got a deadline today!” she cried. “Go on, then. I’ll handle it.”
It kept happening. Dennis vanished with friends—fishing, barbecues, pub crawls. Today, he’d gone out again.
—
Margaret was feeding the boys.
“Emily, sit,” she snapped. “Not many pancakes left, but you’ll manage. Dennis said the boys could use your laptop.”
“That’s rubbish!” Emily bristled. “I never agreed. I’ve got work—deadline today.”
“Stingy, aren’t you?” Margaret sniffed. “We’re family! Laura won’t lend hers either—too expensive.”
“A week’s work is on there,” Emily snapped. “I’m logging on now.”
“Clean the dishes first,” Margaret tossed over her shoulder, picking up her phone.
Emily scrubbed plates, fuming—nobody even rinsed a mug in this house. Margaret was already chatting away:
“Yes, Jan, meet at the shopping centre! An hour. Who’s noisy? The grandsons. Oh, Emily will watch them—practice for when she has her own.”
Emily nearly dropped a plate. Quietly, she packed her laptop and left. Margaret said nothing—no doubt planning to announce her exit last-minute.
Emily headed to the internet café where she often worked. Settling in a corner, she ordered coffee and lost herself in the project. Half an hour later, Dennis called:
“Em, where are you? What’s going on?”
“Working,” she said flatly. “Deadline today.”
“Mum’s in a state! Where’d you go?”
“I can’t concentrate with that noise.”
“You ruined her plans with Jan!”
“Invite Jan over, then.”
“With those little terrors?”
“Then you watch them and let Mum go. They *have* a mother!”
“You’re being ridiculous,” he snapped.
“Or are you?” Emily countered. “So generous, letting us stay—and what do we get? Last month, she ‘ran short’ and took extra from us. You didn’t notice?”
“You’re petty!”
“And where’s *your* money going? Nothing for your mum—all on me. But always enough for your mates! Twelve days a month, your nephews eat our food. Mum buys them sweets, ice cream—us, nothing. Best bits go to them. Laura packs them off with full bags. We spent *less* renting! Call that saving? Want this forever? I’m getting paid for this project and leaving. You coming?”
“Em, where are you?” His voice wavered.
“Why?”
“Fishing’s off. Don’t want to go home. Let’s spend the day together.”
“I’m working.”
“I’ll sit quietly. At our usual café?”
“Fine. Come. I’ve an hour left—wouldn’t finish at home.”
Dennis arrived with flowers.
“What’s this?” Emily blinked.
“Anniversary of when we met,” he smiled. “Ordering your favourite cake and coffee.”
“Oh. Forgot,” she sighed. “Let me check the draft first.”
They wandered until late, resolving to flat-hunt. Emily had been right—Margaret had leeched off them, painting her as selfish, turning Dennis against her.
—
They returned to shouting.
“Decided to grace us at last!” Margaret seethed. “I’ve been run ragged with these two!”
“Mum, you love them,” Dennis said evenly.
“Had enough today!” she barked. “Jan wanted the café, but I had to invite her here. She hated it! Where was Laura?”
“Busy,” Dennis shrugged. “She saw us out—could’ve taken the boys.”
“Wash the dishes!” Margaret ordered. “Had your fun—now work!”
Emily changed, but Dennis stopped her. He opened his laptop—and paled. The screen was cracked; files, gone.
“What—?” he whispered. “Em, I left this on the shelf!”
“Didn’t touch it,” she said. “Ask your mum.”
“Mum!” Dennis shouted. “What happened to my laptop?”
“Keep it down, they’re asleep!” Margaret hissed. “I’m worn out.”
“Why did you take it?” he pressed. “Where are my files?”
“They were playing,” she waved off. “Tiny crack—big deal. At least they were quiet.”
“They *deleted everything*!” Dennis exploded. “They’re eight and ten—they *knew*!”
“Family shares everything!” Margaret retorted. “You’re their uncle!”
“Enough!” he roared. “Em, find us a flat. Use yours—I’ll salvage mine.”
“And who’s washing up?” Margaret fumed.
“Whoever ate does it,” Dennis tossed back. “We weren’t here.”
Watching her furious husband, Emily searched listings. She’d never seen him like this—that laptop cost him years of savings.
“Dennis, don’t panic. We’ll buy a new one,” she soothed.
“No,” he cut in. “I’ll fix it. My mistake—password was on the lid. Never thought Mum would do this. You were right earlier. Nearly handed them yours. Sorry… for everything. We’ve got enough for a deposit.”
—
Next morning, they left without a glance at the kitchen, laptops in tow. They viewed several flats, settling on one—cheap, walkable to work. Signed, keys in hand.
“Need to get our things,” Dennis said. “Calling the lads—we’ll need a van.”
No one answered—suddenly, everyone was busy.
“Some mates,” Dennis scoffed. “Fine when I paidAfter months of tension, they finally found peace in their own little flat, far from Margaret’s meddling and Laura’s endless demands.
