15October2025
Dear Diary,
It seems the whole clan of Georges relatives have come to a unanimous verdict: I, Evelyn, am a useless and shameless daughterinlaw. When they first arrived, the picture was rather rosy. I threw myself into the role, scrambling to please my new family and win their favour.
Whenever a holiday rolled around, the entire brood marched in a tidy procession to our modest rented flat in Leeds, because I not only managed the kitchen with flair but also conjured a variety of amusements to delight our beloved guests. They never bothered waiting for a formal invitation they simply invited themselves. I recall one early episode that set the tone for my tenure as a daughterinlaw.
Hello, Evie! Happy StGeorges Day! croaked my sisterinlaw Violet over the phone, her words garbled as if she were chewing on a biscuit while speaking.
Ah, right thanks, I stammered, hopping over the puddles of an autumn drizzle. Ive been so caught up in the whirl of everyday lifework, appointments at the doctorsthat the date completely slipped my mind. I poured out my thoughts, believing that sharing my personal woes would bring us closer. I was desperate to be seen as one of the family.
Perfect timing, love, Violet replied, her voice a mix of frantic news commentary and the clatter of a breaking story about a volcanic eruption on a tropical island. Her tone shifted from horror to relief as she realised, thank heavens, she was fine. She cut straight to the point, her words blunt as a kettlebell:
Right, Evie, well pop round this evening. Get the table set quick! Mum, dad, George, and little Lily will be there. Im off nowthose dreadful news pictures are making my head spin!
I havent prepared anything! We hadnt planned a thing, I managed to interject, feeling the cold water seep into my shoes as I stood in a lingering puddle. I leapt onto the dry cobbles.
Come on, love, youre a wizard in the kitchen! Im hopeless with a spoon. See you at six.
Violets catchphrase right, right, right peppered almost every sentenceher way of skimming straight to the heart of a matter, bypassing any preamble. I thought later, with a bitter smile, If only her tongue were shorter and her mind a tad longer!
My proper name is Evelyn, though the new family found it pretentious and clumsy. They shortened it to Evie, Eve, even Evy. Evy sounded just right, a reminder of the humble roots from which Id risen and the way Id clung to Georges heart. It kept my head down, reminding me where I stood in the family hierarchy.
I took it as a matter of honour not to disgrace my husbands family. Stockpiling groceries, I tackled the cooking with zeal, hoping not only to feed but also to impress. Alongside hearty mains, the table bore elegant canapés: colourful fingersandwiches, tartlets with assorted fillings, stuffed cherry tomatoes, minicucumbers, mushroomandcheese bites, crisp Italianstyle bruschetta, and more. To keep the guests entertained, I printed out simple games and tiny prizes. Yet, satisfying the cravings of such a large clan proved no small feat.
My dear, is it all homecooked again? my fatherinlaw remarked, eyeing the overstuffed table with a skeptical glance. Ive been dreaming of pizza. He sighed, When will you start earning enough to order takeaway? Im tired of this endless homecooking.
I swallowed the sting in silence. The next gathering I left the cooking to a delivery of pizza, sushi and a noodle stirfry. By then we had our first child, and juggling a baby in my arms while hosting lavish spreads became physically impossible.
Blimey! the relatives exclaimed, No homecooked food? Not even a simple salad? George, your wifes gone lazy, turned into a bourgeoisie!
Its just pizza, George muttered meekly.
Its not pizza, its bread with two rounds of salami and a pinch of cheese! The cheapest you could find, and Ill tell you, George, skimping on loved ones is just rude! his mother scolded, while I flushed with embarrassment. Inside my head I wanted to scream, Say something! Explain that you never invited us, that you came unannounced, that Im fed up with you! Yet I remained mute, lacking the courage to confront this tightknit pack.
Someone always chimed in, What isnt made by your own hands isnt worth appreciating.
George tried to defend me, but always with a gentle laugh. Evie, dont take it to heart. Theyre simple folk; they say what they think. They mean no harm, and they like you, dont they?
Exactly, theyre practically smitten!
Of course! Why would they keep dropping by if they didnt like you?
Bitterly I thought, They only come for a free meal, yet I kept my mouth shut.
Often a call would come half an hour before a visit. When I saw Violets name flash on the screen, my blood boiled.
Evie, were wandering the shopping centre near you. Well pop over in half an hour, have a cuppa with you, Violet sang cheerfully.
I cant, the babys asleep!
Well be as quiet as mice, less than a whisper! Just bring something to nibble on, love!
Even if I didnt answer, they would knock until they got in. I could at least brace myself for the intrusion.
Nobody seemed to care that I had a small baby, that I was exhausted, that the visits were illtimed. No one thought of Georges hectic work schedule, or his occasional need to drive a relative to the hospital, the market, the train station or the countryside. After all, George is a selfemployed contractor a man of his own making. Shouldnt it be simple to help a relative? Surely his conscience wouldnt be troubled by paying a taxi for mum, sister, brotherinlaw or cousin? Thats not how a family works!
The second pregnancy arrived, and even George had his epiphanies. It was a rough one. After six months, George feared leaving me alone for too long. He had to travel to Sheffield for work, staying overnight, and asked his sister Violet to look after us just to be on hand if an ambulance was needed or to tend to our older son.
Violet feasted on wine, chattered endlessly into the night, though I was desperate to sleep. Eventually she collapsed onto the sofa, which doubled as our marital bed, as there was no spare bedroom beyond the babys crib. The sofa was too small for two; I spent the night on a hard kitchen chair, unable to lie on the floor because we were pinching every penny to save for our own flat. In the morning Violet rushed off to work, leaving me to wander the apartment, realizing the seriousness of the situation. I called a friend, who took the baby and drove me to the maternity unit. I was rushed into surgery to save the baby. While I lay in the hospital, George exploded at his family.
Do I ever have to ask you for anything again? Never! Once I asked for help and this is what I gotbeing turned into a free taxi driver when I need a pinch of support! He vowed never to drive anyone again, no matter how many pleas were made.
I eventually gave birth to our second son. The relatives, grudgingly, began to soften, but that crisis gave George and me our first sharp claws. The real blame, they said, lay with Violet, yet his parents defended her, claiming I was to blame for my weak health: a proper woman should give birth as easily as a sneeze. They never dared to complain about their own son, and after each refusal they muttered a sour word about me, the daughterinlaw who had turned George against his own kin.
The unannounced visits never truly stopped they were too convenient and cheap. By then I was fed up with playing the everwelcoming hostess, and decided to become the bad one, teaching those cheeky relatives a lesson. I did it without a word.
One day, the family arrived to celebrate our youngests threemonth milestone. Naturally, no one had invited them.
Oh, you havent even started cooking yet! the guests exclaimed.
Theres a herring on the table to be gutted, the beetroot and potatoes are already boiling in the pot, I replied with a weary smile, rocking the baby. Youll manage the salad in four hands, right, Violet? And you, George, go fetch a cake any cake, I cant eat it, Im on a diet.
The relatives stared, baffled. They had made the salad themselves, bought the cake themselves and devoured it, leaving not a crumb for George, who could have had a slice. I didnt stay; I retreated to the bedroom, feeding the infant for an hour while he clung to my chest.
At the next visit I offered nothing, suggesting they peel the potatoes for frying themselves.
There are frozen mushrooms in the freezer. Theyll turn into a treat, not a dinner! I said and walked away. The guests stood stunned, then whispered among themselves. My motherinlaw entered with a stonecold face.
Evie, weve noticed theres no bread in the house. Well all go to the shop together, maybe pick up a few more things.
Of course. Whatever you need, just tell me.
They went shopping and never returned. From that day they ceased their surprise drops. The reputation of the terrible daughterinlaw stuck: a useless mother, a chaotic housekeeper, an unrepentant nuisance all at Georges expense. All the years Id spent organising lavish feasts were erased from the family memory, as if they never happened.
I have swallowed that bitterness. Dont look for good in bad, they say. At least now our home wont be overrun by uninvited guests, and we wont bleed money on a ravenous clan. I have decided that, if extreme measures are needed, Ill choose the one that brings me peace rather than feeding the impertinent relatives.
Evelyn.
