The Surprise – Mother-in-law’s “Illness” Changed Everything
Cottage in Cornwall
“What are you thinking? Selling the cottage in Cornwall? It’s a goldmine!” Robert looked at his wife, as if she’d suggested throwing a million pounds out the window.
Emma sighed. How many times had they discussed this? The cottage had been left to her by her grandmother three months ago, and it brought problems enough for three years.
“A goldmine? I’m slaving away there! Changing sheets, cleaning, shopping for groceries. And those… guests…,” she grimaced, “the water’s too cold, the neighbours are too loud, the sea’s too far.”
“Well, you need to charge more! Your gran managed it somehow.”
“Gran was different. She could send someone packing and they’d thank her for it.”
Robert’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned.
“It’s Mum, third time this morning.”
Emma turned to the window. Just what they needed – Patricia.
“Robbie, darling!” his mother’s voice blared through the speaker. “My blood pressure’s shot up! 180 over 100! I’m dying here, all alone, and you…”
“Mum, we were there yesterday. Have you taken your medication?”
“What medication? I need care! I’m an old, sick woman! And you and that… wife of yours are off gallivanting!”
Emma rolled her eyes. A trip to the cottage to welcome new guests and clean up after the previous ones was, of course, considered vacationing. The height of luxury.
“Mum, I’m at work. I’ll call you later.”
Robert hung up and looked apologetically at Emma.
“Em, maybe we should have her stay with us? Just for a while?”
“To ruin my sanity? No, thank you.”
The cottage greeted Emma with sea air and dust. She opened the windows and started cleaning. An hour later, a family from London arrived.
“Where’s the air conditioning?” the woman asked, glancing around the room. “The ad said ‘all amenities.’”
“There’s a fan,” Emma pointed to the shelf. “And the sea is only fifteen minutes away.”
“Fifteen? They told us five!”
“If you run, you can make it in five,” Emma mumbled.
“We didn’t sign up for this. Give us a discount or find other tenants.”
Emma gave in. So much for a goldmine.
“Can you believe they asked for a discount?” she complained to Robert over the phone. “I’m barely breaking even.”
“Em, you’re just too soft. You need to be tougher.”
“Easier said than done. I’ll come back tomorrow, and we can sort it out.”
But coming back wasn’t in the cards. At six in the morning, Emma’s phone rang.
“Emma, Mum’s unwell. An ambulance came. They say she needs constant care.”
“And?”
“I think she should stay with us. Temporarily.”
Emma felt her heart sink.
“Robbie, we’ve only got a two-bedroom. Where will she stay?”
“In the living room. It’s just for a short time.”
“What’s ‘short time’?”
“Well… until she gets better.”
Emma knew what that meant. Patricia had been “getting better” for ten years, using every ailment as a tool for manipulation.
“Can’t we hire a carer?”
“Are you mad? Mum won’t have strangers at home. We can’t afford that.”
“But we have money for a cottage that’s a bloody expense,” Emma snapped.
“Exactly! Maybe it’s time to sell it?”
“No! It’s Gran’s memory. And anyway… I’ll handle it myself.”
When Emma returned home, Patricia was perched comfortably on the sofa, surrounded by cushions and blankets.
“Arrived at last,” the mother-in-law commented. “All cozy from your holiday?”
“Hello, Patricia. How are you feeling?”
“Feelings of an old lady? Barely breathing. And you off enjoying the sea.”
“I was working.”
“Working, was it? Letting rooms out is work now? I spent my life in the factory…”
Emma passed silently to the kitchen. Robert gave an apologetic smile.
“Mum, would you like some tea?” he shouted to the room.
“I would! And not like last time. Your wife’s frugal with the leaves.”
Emma clenched her fists.
“Robbie, we need to talk.”
“Later, okay? Mum’s not well.”
“And I’m fine, right? I’m running like a hamster in a wheel at that cottage and can’t even relax at home now!”
“It’s my mother, Emma! What was I supposed to do?”
“At least discuss it with me before making decisions!”
From the room came Patricia’s voice:
“Robbie! Where’s that tea? It’s time for my pills!”
A week later, Emma escaped to the cottage. She simply packed her bags and left a note: “Gone to sort out the tenants. Back in a few days.”
The sea met her with a storm. The sky was heavy with clouds. The perfect weather to match her mood.
Her phone rang as she unpacked.
“When are you coming back?” Robert sounded weary.
“I don’t know. I need time to think.”
“What’s there to think about? Mum’s ill, she needs help.”
“And I need space! Which I now have neither at home nor here!”
“What do you mean ‘nor here’?”
“Exactly what I said! These tenants are driving me mad! Yesterday, they called, complaining about the shower pressure. Can you imagine? Shower pressure!”
“Perhaps we should sell the cottage after all? Solve two problems at once: afford a carer and free you from this nightmare.”
“No! It’s the only place I can be alone!”
“With tenants?”
“I won’t let the rooms anymore. Enough is enough.”
Silence hung in the air.
“Robbie, are you there?”
“Yes. Listen, maybe… maybe we can bring Mum to the cottage? The sea air would be good for her health.”
Emma almost dropped the phone.
“Are you insane? So she can make my life miserable there too?”
“But you said you’re not letting the rooms anymore. There’s plenty of space.”
“Robert, no! This is my place! My inheritance! My personal space!”
“And our flat isn’t your home?”
Emma was at a loss for words.
In the morning, a knock on the door woke her. On the doorstep stood Robert with a suitcase. And Patricia on his arm.
“Surprise!” he said with a forced smile.
Emma stood frozen at the door.
“What’s this?”
“We decided to visit you,” Robert dragged the suitcase into the hallway. “The doctor said the sea air is the best cure.”
“Yes, yes,” chimed in Patricia, breezing into the house. “Helps with the blood pressure, calms the nerves. Your bride is quite a nervous one.”
Emma watched them settle into her house. Her sanctuary.
“Robbie, can I have a word?” She nodded towards the porch.
Once alone, she hissed:
“How could you? Without asking! I said no!”
“What was I to do? You ran off! Mum was crying! I’m caught between two fires!”
“Then choose someone already! Me or your mum!”
“Emma, that’s not fair.”
“Unfair? Bringing her here without notice?”
Their argument was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Who’s that?” Robert wondered.
“New guests,” Emma answered resignedly. “I forgot to cancel the booking.”
She opened the door. A young couple with a child stood there.
“Hello! We’re here for a week. Is the room ready?”
“Well, you see…” Emma began, but Patricia interrupted:
“Of course, it’s ready! Come in! Payment upfront, though. And an extra for the little one.”
Emma turned around. Patricia, who minutes ago was frail, now stood upright, hands on her hips.
“Mum,” Robert faltered, “you’re not well…”
“Shush, Robbie. I see your wife can’t handle business.” She addressed the guests. “£100 a night. Additional £20 for the child. Payment for three days in advance. Make noise after ten, and you’re out with no refund.”
The young couple exchanged glances.
“But the ad said £80…”
“That was then. It’s peak season now. Take it or leave it.”
To Emma’s surprise, the couple agreed and handed over the money.
That evening, they sat together on the porch. Patricia counted the money.
“That’s how you work,” she declared. “Emma, you’re soft. Anyone can take you for a ride.”
“Mum!” Robert reprimanded her.
“What, Mum? I’m telling the truth. Look, forty grand clean by the end of the week. And she’s whining about selling.”
Emma looked at her mother-in-law in surprise.
“Patricia, what about your blood pressure?”
“What blood pressure?” she waved it off. “Sea air does wonders. I’m nearly better already.”
Robert choked on his tea.
“So quickly?”
“Of course. And I like it here. Maybe I’ll stay the whole summer? Let the rooms while you two work. Emma’s no good at it, just wasting money.”
Emma and Robert exchanged glances.
“Mum, what about your flat?” Robert asked cautiously.
“What about it? It’ll wait. I’m not moving here forever. Just for the season.”
Emma suddenly laughed.
“You know what, Patricia? That sounds like a brilliant idea.”
“Really?” Robert was taken aback.
“Sure! You’ll let the rooms, keep things in order, demand prepayments. Robert and I will come in the offseason, when it’s all calm and serene here.”
Patricia squinted.
“And the money?”
“Half for you, half for us. Fair and square.”
“One-third for you, two-thirds for me. After all, I’ll be the one working.”
“Forty-sixty,” Emma said firmly. “And no health complaints until the end of the season.”
Patricia thought for a moment, then nodded:
“Deal, daughter-in-law.”
Robert stared at them, mouth agape.
“You’re serious?”
“Completely,” Emma replied. “Your mum gets a job and an income, I get freedom and part of the profit, and you get peace. Win-win.”
Patricia chuckled:
“You’re not as soft as I thought. You know how to haggle.”
“Learning from the best mother-in-law,” Emma smiled.
A month later, Emma sat in their London flat, relishing the quiet. Her phone beeped with a message from Patricia:
“Kicked the cheeky ones out from the third room. Didn’t pay up. Already found new ones for a fortnight. Transferred the money to the account. Visit in September when everyone’s gone.”
Emma smiled and replied:
“Thanks, Patricia. How’s your health?”
“Splendid! Too busy to be sick, with all these tasks!”
Robert peeked over her shoulder:
“Can’t believe it worked.”
“Me neither,” Emma admitted. “But you know, sometimes people just need purpose. And clear boundaries.”
“And a bit of cleverness,” winked her husband.
“And a bit of cleverness,” she concurred.
