Page 1 of The In-Laws

1. Amanda

Amanda clenched her fists and bit her tongue for the umpteenth time that morning as Nancy ordered her about the kitchen. She could do nothing right.

‘Not like that. You always whisk cream until it stands in little peaks. That’s when you know it’s ready. Did your mother not teach you that?’ Nancy snapped, from her wheelchair.

Amanda was tempted to upend the bowl of cream over her mother-in-law’s perfectly coiffed head. She’d never really warmed to Nancy, but since the fall she had become insufferable. And living in this house with her was a nightmare, a really bad one.

Amanda’s teenage son, Theo, sat in the corner of the large kitchen, AirPods in, scrolling on his phone. Maybe she should throw the bowl of cream over his head, so that he’d look up and engage with her for once. She knew teens were addicted to their phones, but Theo seemed to spend his life on his and since … well … since everything had imploded, she had been too distracted to pull him up on his phone use.

Turning her back on her mother-in-law and her son, Amanda whipped the cream with venom and tried not to let the panic she felt overwhelm her. The move back to Ireland had been sudden and traumatic. She was still reeling from all that had happened. In a way, Nancy tripping on the footpath and breaking her leg in three places, resulting in her having a cast from her toes to her hip, had actually been a godsend. It had given Amanda andRoss the valid excuse they needed to get out of London and away from the mess that Ross and Theo had created. Who knew that your husband and son could turn your life upside-down in the space of a month? Ross and Theo had done a great job. Amanda’s happy, content, comfortable life had been well and truly shattered. Now she was living with her overbearing mother-in-law and trying to pretend that everything was hunky-dory.

Ross came into the kitchen, smelling fresh from his long shower. Her husband had timed his entrance to perfection: everything was pretty much done. Under Nancy’s watchful eye and critical instructions, Amanda had set the table and prepared the food for the family lunch. Nancy’s kitchen was spacious and bright. It had a white marble counter with six dove-grey stools to one side, a large Belfast sink and a hob on the other. The table was long and seated twelve people comfortably. It was dark oak and had once been owned by French monks (a long and boring story that Nancy liked to tell everyone who entered the house) and the chairs were covered with a fresh olive and dove-grey gingham. When Amanda had first come to the house, aged nineteen, and admired the kitchen, Nancy had told her that she had designed it, and the whole house, to have a ‘Provence meets the Hamptons’ look. Amanda didn’t know what that meant, or where Provence or the Hamptons were, but she was a quick study. She had taken note of everything – the subtle complementary colour schemes, the stylish furniture, the tasteful art, the sumptuous rugs, the herringbone parquet flooring, the carefully placed lamps, the panelled walls, the custom-made bookshelves, all of it. Amanda was determined to soak it in so that she could recreate it.

It was a far cry from the cramped, dull, grey pebble-dashedhouse that she had grown up in. The whole place was painted magnolia and stank of her father’s pipe smoke. Furniture was purchased for its practicality, not style, and they wouldn’t have dreamt of wasting money on rugs or lamps.

Ross’s family home was what good taste and money could get you, and from the moment she set foot inside it, Amanda had known that this was what she wanted. This elegant lifestyle was what she had always craved. Amanda had never particularly liked Nancy, but she had always admired her success and her style.

‘Ross, for the love of God, pour me a drink,’ Nancy ordered her eldest son. ‘It’s exhausting having to coordinate everything myself.’

Amanda bit her lip, hard. She felt like a disobedient staff member causing the boss headaches. Nancy might have style, but she sure as hell didn’t have grace.

‘Sure, Mum. White wine?’

‘No, something stronger, a gin and tonic, please.’

‘Should you be drinking gin? Those painkillers are strong.’

‘I’m a successful seventy-six-year-old businesswoman. I don’t need my son telling me what I can and cannot do. I thought you came home to help, not nag me.’

Ross smiled tightly and took a bottle of gin from the dresser in the corner of the kitchen. Amanda hid a smile. It was comforting to see that Nancy was driving him nuts too.

‘Can I have a drink?’ Theo asked.

‘No!’ Ross and Amanda said in unison.

‘Ah, give the boy a drink. What age is he? Eighteen?’ Nancy asked. ‘It might get him to look up from his phone for once.’

‘Theo is seventeen and he will not be drinking.’ Amanda was firm. She knew she had to placate Nancy and bite hertongue on most things, but no way was Theo drinking alcohol. She’d had enough trouble with him. He was on thin ice,verythin ice.

‘Oh, God, are you one of those awful helicopter parents?’ Nancy said. ‘I read an article inThe Timesabout that last week. A beer at seventeen isn’t going to kill the boy.’

Amanda decided the best option was to ignore Nancy and change the subject. ‘I’ll have a glass of red, please, Ross.’

Ross poured two large glasses of red and handed her one. Amanda drank deeply and felt the alcohol take off a bit of the edge, but it would take an entire vat to remove it completely. Thankfully, Nancy had gone back to reading a new manuscript and was sipping her gin and tonic quietly. Amanda checked the roast beef and vegetables and it all looked good. She had to make sure it wasn’t overcooked. Nancy liked her meat medium-rare and Amanda did not want to give her mother-in-law another reason to criticize her. She picked up the carving knife and wondered if it was normal to have so many people in your family that you’d happily stab. She placed it back on the counter and drank more wine.

The doorbell rang. Ross went to answer it.

Amanda heard loud voices and laughter. Thank God: more people for Nancy to turn her laser focus on.

‘Here comes chaos.’ Nancy sighed. ‘Let’s hope Katie doesn’t drinkallmy good wine, although there’s a strong chance she will.’

Amanda was secretly glad that Nancy was so dismissive of Katie: it made her feel less alone in the worst daughter-in-law category. She actually liked Katie, who was warm and fun, but Nancy had never rated her and Amanda knew she never would.

Ross’s two brothers, Jamie and Frank, their wives and kids all trooped into the kitchen.

Katie and Jamie placed three bottles of wine on the countertop.

‘We’ll need these.’ Katie winked at Amanda, who chuckled. At least Nancy couldn’t accuse Katie of drinkingherwine now.

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