I remember I was quite uncomfortable when I first met the in-laws. My family were far from posh, I guess in those days we were lower middle class, but his Mam and Dad lived in the smallest mid-terrace council house I had ever seen, freezing cold with just an open fire in the living room and outside privy. My MiL couldnt have been more welcoming, but FiL was not happy. He sat on top of the fire for the whole visit, chain smoking and drinking whisky with Guinness chasers, making disparaging remarks about posh people, clearly thinly disguised criticisms of me. I couldnt see where class came into it since DH and I were both at the same university, and were both the product of grammar schools, without which neither of us would have had any higher education. No one from my family had ever stayed on at school, let alone gone to uni, just like his family. To my mind we were the same. They had no car or telephone and so the next day we drove MiL to the supermarket to save her struggling on the bus. She was so lovely and as soon as we were away from FiL said how glad she was her son had met such a wonderful girl. Very sadly MiL died young and never got to see her granddaughter, whilst FiL lived on for many, many years, although largely estranged from my DH.