What kind of rascals have been in the cottage? Call your family, let them come and sort this mess out, Lily snapped. Im not going to clean after them. Ive had enough of washing the sheets every time your mates crash on our weekend retreat. Theyve been staying over night after night.
Listen, Mum called earlier, Sam said, passing the peas. She and the rest of the clan are planning a weekend barbecue.
Good for them, Lily replied. Let them go. Whats it to us? Ive never liked my motherinlaw, MrsGreen, much.
They just want to use the cottage, Sam explained. They dont have one of their own, and Ive got a garage appointment on Saturday. He said it as if it were obvious. I told Mum we couldnt go away this weekend, so she asked for the keys.
Lily had no choice but to agree, a decision she would soon regret. When the next weekend finally arrived and they drove out to the cottage, Lily froze at the sight. The place looked as if a windstorm had swept through.
Berries were strewn everywhere, the floor was filthy, a lonely pot of ancient soup sat on the stove, and the kitchen window was stripped of its curtain. Lily stared, bewildered. Sams parents were already pushing sixty.
She vented to Sam.
What kind of rascals have been here? Call your family, let them come and sort this mess out, Lily repeated, exasperated. Im not cleaning after them. Im done washing the sheets every time your friends spend the night at our cottage.
Youre overreacting, Sam shrugged. Toss it in the washing machine, pull it out and hang it.
How about next time you do it all yourself? Lily shot back. Are you happy with the state of our cottage and garden?
Sam didnt call anyone. He and Lily made up later. Theyd only been married two years, a love marriage, and still childfree. Life went on: work, house, work, house. Weekends were either a stroll in the park or a jaunt with friends into the countryside.
Everything changed when Lilys own mother remarried and moved to another city, leaving the family cottage to Lily. Suddenly, Sams relatives fell over themselves to visit. Everyone knows a barbecue tastes better under the open sky!
Cousins, second cousins, distant aunts, uncles, even Sams grandmother turned up, all eager for fresh air, the river, and grilled meat. Sams mates joined the parade too. They all stayed the night, Sam manned the grill as usual, and Lilys patience wore thin. Still, she didnt want to sour the relationship with Sams clan, so she had to find a solution.
The next weekend she waited with a mix of dread and excitement. By now Sams mother, Margaret, was an elderly lady whod had her son rather late in life. She also had a daughter, Mary, ten years older than Sam, whod grown up in a village and believed everything was a shared community resource.
Mary and Margaret raided the cottage for everythingcreams, shampoos, sponges, even Lilys fluffy house slippers. Then Margaret called again, asking Sam for the cottage keys so she could take her boss there for a weekend barbecue.
Well hand the keys to Mum, Sam said, remembering Lilys horrified face the last time the relatives turned the cottage into a campsite, but he kept quiet about it.
Lily realised she had to act, and this time Sam was on the opposite side of the fence. After weighing her options, she rang her own mother and complained.
Ill call you back, her mother replied briefly.
Around twenty minutes later Lily phoned again, telling her mother shed send her sister and her husband to the cottage for a while. Dont worry, Aunt Olive will sort it out, Lily added.
Lily shivered. Aunt Olive was the one who, as a child, had whisked her away on several summer holidays, leaving a lingering sense of dread. Olive was, after all, a formidable aunt.
That evening Olive called.
Well, my dear niece, youve been awfully quiet. When will you finally give me a ring? she chortled. How should I behave? Should I be a little scary or go fullon dramatic? Olive laughed, clearly enjoying the prospect.
Lilys heart pounded. Did you tell them the cottage is yours? Olive asked.
I dont recall, but theyre all convinced its mine, Lily admitted.
Dont fret, love, well make it right, Olive reassured.
The following Sunday Sams mother, Margaret, called, furious.
Did you sell the cottage? she shouted. Wheres the money? Why didnt anyone tell us?
It turned out that on Saturday Mary, her boss, and Margaret had arrived with Sam. A picturesque group of five was already grilling on the plot.
Who are you? Margaret gasped, eyes wide.
And who are you, really? the lady from the group demanded, tone authoritative. Im the owner of this cottage. I dont know you. Where did you get the keys?
Margarets sisterinlaw, Mary, tried to explain the familyties and the handover of the keys, but Margaret scowled, and the whole scene turned into a farcical standoff. In the end, the keys were snatched from Mary, and the unwanted guests were politely asked to leave, lest they find out where those mysterious keys came from.
From a distance Lily heard Margarets voice booming over the phone. Sam, clueless, could do nothing.
Hand the receiver to Lily, Sam said, passing the handset. The cottage isnt yours! Margaret declared, gravely.
Did you even ask? Lily tried to keep her cool. Or have you decided everything around here belongs to you as well?
You realize Mary invited her boss, dont you? Margaret retorted. If that boss gets laid off, itll be on your conscience.
And what about Aunt Olive? Shes the one who came to rest, and you didnt even ask me! Lily snapped. Buy your own place and enjoy it.
Sam, looking pale, muttered, I wont go back there, and neither will my relatives.
It was the first real fight theyd ever had. Sam was wounded, Mary lost her job, and Lily swore shed never forgive Sam for the whole mess.
Mum, I think Im divorcing Sam, Lily told her mother.
Decide for yourself, youre an adult now. Where will you live? Ive let go of my flat. Go stay with Olive, her mother said matteroffactly.
Thanks, I suppose. Ill probably rent a flat, Lily replied, a hint of surprise in her tone.
Lily filed for divorce, rented a modest flat in town, and never set foot in the cottage again.
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