I always had a feeling my stepmother-in-law didn't like me. But when my darling children opened the Christmas presents she'd bought them, I realised the truth was far worse
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It's often said that in-laws are the price one pays for falling in love. I was reminded of this - again - last week when my not-quite-mother-in-law took the opportunity to show her true feelings, while maintaining a teeth-baring grimace of festive welcome.
![[Our eldest was given a paperback David Walliams novel that had clearly been picked up in a charity shop, writes Anna]](https://i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2025/01/01/11/93641221-14241241-image-m-3_1735729491948.jpg)
I know that most mothers-in-law, even the difficult ones, at least try to make their daughters-in-law feel at home during Christmas. However, Agnes is not my husband's mother, but his stepmother, and that makes all the difference. Jim's dad, Kenneth, left the family home when my husband was five, and married his mistress, Agnes. They went on to have two strapping sons, Stan and Ed, with whom Jim gets along well in a distant, male kind of way - he'd have a drink at the pub with them, but he'd never ring them to talk about his feelings. They certainly view Jim, a graphic designer, as their admired 'big brother', and were more than welcoming to me when we married 20 years ago – as was Kenneth.
Less so his dreaded stepmum. On our first-ever visit, Agnes entered into 'gracious hostess' mode, flapping about linen napkins and enlisting me to 'keep an eye on the roast' while she went to touch up her lipstick. I was slightly resentful that she'd asked me, rather than the men, but assumed she was attempting some old-fashioned female bonding. Those bonds swiftly unravelled, however, when Kenneth's heavy-handed wine pouring left me hopelessly tipsy and deeply forgetful. Agnes came downstairs to curls of smoke from the oven, and a roast chicken even drier than the tone in which she said, 'Goodness. Never mind.'.
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