My husband and I tied the knot six years ago. When our son was born we sold the tiny studio wed been living in, took out a mortgage and bought a modest terraced house in Manchester, hoping the little boy would soon need his own room and we could finally have a space just for ourselves.
The property was registered solely in my name, making me the only legal owner. Because we bought it after we were married, the law says that if we ever split, the house would be divided equally between me and Mark. We could have used the money from the sale of my premarriage flat as my contribution, but we decided to treat it as a joint purchase.
We never imagined divorce would ever be a word in our vocabulary. Yet something went wrongperhaps we grew bored of each other, perhaps life simply wore us down.
I suspect Mark confided his worries to his mother, his muminlaw. He probably meant well, seeking a seasoned woman’s advice, but the outcome was the opposite of what he intended.
A few days ago my motherinlaw called, announcing she would drop by for dinner. Her sudden visit unnerved me; normally it is us who make the trip to her. Her sons mother rarely comes over, always claiming the journey is too inconvenient. I doubted she was missing her grandson or son, so I set about preparing a roast and a Victoria sponge.
She arrived while Mark was still at work. I was at the kitchen table laying the cutlery when she slipped past my grandson without a word and launched straight into business.
Ethel, we need to talk seriously, she said. Ive heard you and Mark are having trouble, and if you divorce, youll leave my son out in the cold.
I was stunned into silence. I snapped back, Where did that idea come from? Why are you meddling in how Mark and I would split our assets? Weve discussed this for years.
She replied, Im not happy with how things stand. I know nowadays wives can swindle their husbands out of the family home. I think you should transfer half the house to my son now, before any serious fallout, so he isnt left homeless.
Her bluntness struck me like a slap.
I fired back, Do you realize half of that property was bought with the proceeds from my previous flat? And I was the one paying the mortgage after my maternity leave.
She shrugged, In a divorce, everything accrued during the marriage is split 5050. Have you spoken to my son about it?
I wont involve a man in this, I said. I can decide for myself.
She raised her voice, Listen to me! I wont argue with you. Mark and I will handle it without your input. I appreciate your good advice, but I refuse any more discussion. You can wait until your son gets home, but Im stepping out for a walk, and you can leave while Im gone.
I went to change, and three minutes later the front door slammed. Mark walked in, half an hour after shed left, looking bewildered that his mother hadnt waited for him. I tried to explain the whole confrontation as calmly as possible. When the adrenaline faded, he insisted he knew nothing of his mothers plans and hadnt spoken to her about it.
Mark promised to have a firm word with his mother, to stop her from bringing up the subject again. After she left, I could hardly settle down. Perhaps, in the heat of the moment, I said something I shouldnt have, but I also believe its better to set a firm boundary, even when the person is family.
