– It’s my flat – my mother and relatives were against the idea of me asking my pregnant sister to leave.
– You gave me this flat as a gift.
“Don’t you understand? She’s family! How can you treat your own niece like this? She’s pregnant and has nowhere to go!”
Emma sat in the kitchen, clutching her phone. Her mother’s voice on the line sounded both pleading and accusatory. Typical mum – even when she asks for something, there’s always an undercurrent of pressure.
“Mum, I’m not against helping, but…” Emma hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Olivia has been living with me for eight months. Eight! Do you remember when Aunt Valerie said it was just for ‘a couple of weeks until she found a job’?”
“So what? These times are tough, it’s hard to find a job…”
“She’s not even looking!” Emma felt a wave of irritation rising within her. “Yesterday, she spent the whole day in the bathroom doing her hair masks. Then she watched a series. Then…”
“Emma, darling, she’s in a delicate condition…”
“She found out only a month ago! What stopped her before that?”
There was a heavy pause on the line. Emma could hear her mum sigh deeply. That signature sigh, which meant, “What a heartless daughter you are; I didn’t raise you like this.”
“Mum, this is my flat. You bought Aunt Valerie’s share specifically for me, remember?”
“Technically,” her mother’s voice became drier, “the flat is ours. We just allowed you to live there.”
Emma closed her eyes. Here it was, again.
“I thought it was a graduation gift.”
“Of course, it was a gift! But you must understand that in a family…”
“Understand what?” Emma interrupted. “That I have to tolerate Olivia eating my food, using my cosmetics, and bringing her boyfriend over when I’m not home? And by the way, the same boyfriend who’s the father of her child now.”
“Emma!” her mother’s voice turned steely. “Aunt Valerie did so much for us! When your dad was ill, who helped us? Who looked after you while I worked two jobs?”
Emma sighed. She had heard this lecture a hundred times. The debt to Aunt Valerie, which it seemed would never be paid in full.
“Mum, I’m grateful to Aunt Valerie, truly. But that doesn’t mean I have to…”
“Aunt Valerie called yesterday,” her mum interrupted again. “She was crying. She said you’re picking on Olivia about every little thing.”
Emma snorted.
“Little things? She took my new sweater without asking and spilled juice on it! Then she said, ‘Oh, you won’t be mad, we’re family.’ And she didn’t even apologize!”
“For goodness’ sake, Emma, it’s just a sweater…”
“It’s not about the sweater!” Emma felt a lump forming in her throat. “It’s about respect. About personal boundaries. About coming home and feeling like a guest in my own flat.”
There was another pause. Then her mother spoke quietly but firmly:
“You know, your grandmother would be very upset hearing how you’re talking. For her, family was…”
“Don’t,” Emma cut her off. “Don’t bring up grandma every time you want to convince me of something.”
“But it’s true! This flat is grandma’s legacy. She wanted…”
“She wanted what? For me to live with Olivia forever? To tolerate her antics? To…”
Her phone chimed – an incoming call. Emma glanced at the screen: Aunt Valerie. Of course.
“Mum, Aunt Valerie is calling. She probably wants to tell me in person what a terrible sister I am.”
“Pick up the phone, Emma. Talk to her kindly.”
“Alright,” Emma sighed. “I’ll call you back later.”
She switched to Aunt Valerie’s call, mentally bracing herself for another round of reproaches.
“Hello, Aunt Val.”
“Emma, darling!” Aunt Val’s voice was exaggeratedly cheerful. “How are you, love?”
“Love.” Emma grimaced. Aunt Val only called her that when she was about to ask for something.
“Fine,” she responded curtly.
“Olivia says you have some… misunderstandings?”
Emma rolled her eyes. Misunderstandings. Right.
“Aunt Val, when you and mum suggested Olivia could stay with me, it was supposed to be for a couple of weeks. A month at most.”
“Oh, why are you keeping track like an accountant?” Aunt Val laughed, but there was irritation in her laugh. “Family doesn’t act like that.”
“And how does family act?” Emma felt anger boiling inside her. “By barging in uninvited? Taking things without permission? Bringing friends over when I’m not home?”
“Oh, Emma… Olivia is just an open person, she’s used to…”
“Do you know what else she’s used to? Others making decisions for her. Mum and dad bought out the flat share so I could live here. It was a gift for me.”
“Well, not exactly,” Aunt Val’s voice cooled. “It’s grandmother’s flat. Shared inheritance. Your mum and I just agreed…”
“Agreed that you would sell your share to my parents,” Emma stated firmly. “And they paid for it. At full market value.”
“Money, money!” Aunt Val’s voice grew hysterical. “It’s always about money! Have you thought about Olivia being pregnant? Where is she supposed to go? Onto the street?”
“She has a boyfriend. The father of the child, mind you.”
“He’s irresponsible and homeless himself! He left London as soon as he found out about the pregnancy.”
“Interesting why,” thought Emma, but aloud she said:
“Aunt Val, you have a three-bedroom flat. You and Uncle Nick live there alone. Why can’t Olivia live with you?”
Pause. Emma could almost physically feel Aunt Val searching for the words.
“We’re… it’s inconvenient. Uncle Nick works from home, he needs quiet. Plus, you and Olivia have always been on good terms. You grew up like sisters. She’ll have her baby, and it’ll be a great experience for you in taking care of a little one.”
“Like sisters.” Emma chuckled bitterly. Olivia was always the one to get away with everything. Sweet, spontaneous Olivia, who “just didn’t think of the consequences.” Meanwhile, Emma was “responsible,” “sensible,” “wise beyond her years.” The one who had to give in, understand, forgive.
“Aunt Val, I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to talk to Olivia today. She needs to find other accommodation.”
“What?!” Aunt Val’s voice climbed to a shrill note. “You can’t! She’s pregnant! It’s stress! You want her to lose the baby?!”
Emma felt she was barely holding back from shouting. There it was. The main artillery. If appealing to conscience through “family values” didn’t work, blame could always be shifted onto the potential harm to the child.
“I’m not kicking her out on the street right now. I’m giving her time to find…”
“I’m calling your mum!” Aunt Val interrupted. “It’s just… absolutely outrageous! After all we’ve done for you.”
The call ended abruptly. Emma slowly put the phone down on the table. Her hands were shaking.
The front door slammed. Heels clicked along the hallway.
“Em!” Olivia’s voice was sickly sweet. “Are you home? Can you believe I ran into Katie, you remember her from school? She’s married now, can you imagine? To some rich IT guy. She showed me her ring; I almost went blind!”
Olivia breezed into the kitchen. Tanned, with a fresh manicure, in expensive jeans. No signs of a pregnant woman in a dire situation.
“Hey, I was thinking…” Olivia plopped into a chair opposite Emma. “Maybe we should rearrange the furniture? I think the sofa would be better by the window. And once the baby’s born, we’ll need to set up a nursery corner…”
Emma stared at her, feeling something inside her snap. The last thread of patience.
“Olivia, we need to talk.”
“Oh, not now, please?” Olivia waved a hand. “I’ve got a splitting headache. These pregnancy hormones, they’re awful! I’ll just go lie down.”
She stood and headed out of the kitchen.
“Olivia,” Emma raised her voice. “You need to move out.”
Olivia stopped in the doorway. Slowly turned around.
“What?”
“You need to move out,” Emma repeated, feeling an unexpected calm fill her. “I’m giving you a month to find a place.”
Olivia looked at her in such astonishment, as if Emma had suddenly started speaking Chinese.
“You’re joking, right?” she finally managed. “This is some kind of prank, isn’t it?”
“No. I’m absolutely serious.”
Olivia’s face twisted.
“You… you can’t be serious! This is grandma’s flat! I have as much right to live here as you do!”
“No, Olivia. My parents bought the share from your mum. Legally, it’s their property.”
“I don’t care about legally!” Olivia raised her voice. “We’re family! Don’t you understand? I’m pregnant! I have nowhere to go!”
“You have parents. You have the child’s father. You have friends, even.”
“I’m calling mum!” Olivia yanked her phone from her pocket. “She’ll sort this out!”
“There’s no need,” Emma shook her head. “She’s already called. And so has mum.”
“And what did they say?”
“And nothing. My decision won’t change.”
Olivia glared at her with undisguised hatred.
“So, this is it? You’re kicking a pregnant relative out onto the street? Mum and Aunt Irene will handle this. You’ll regret it!”
She spun around and stormed out of the kitchen. The front door slammed moments later.
Emma sat there, staring out the window. Oddly enough, instead of the expected guilt, she felt only relief. And exhaustion. An endless weariness of this façade of “family values,” where the values were always one-sided.
Her phone vibrated. A message from her mum: “Aunt Valerie is in tears. What have you done?”
Emma didn’t respond. Instead, she opened a browser and typed into the search: “London flat rentals.”
Three months later. Emma sat in a café on Oxford Street watching the rain pour outside. Across from her sat Mike – her boyfriend, whom she’d met in London but who’d moved six months earlier.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, swirling his coffee.
Emma shook her head.
“No. I only regret not doing it sooner.”
Her phone vibrated. A call from her dad.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” her father’s voice sounded unusually formal. “I have some news.”
“What kind?”
“We sold the flat.”
Emma froze.
“Grandma’s? And what about…”
“Olivia moved back in with her parents,” Dad chuckled. “After you left, she tried to stay, but… Anyway, your mum and I decided that was enough. We sold the flat. We’ll transfer the money to you.”
“What?” Emma couldn’t believe her ears. “To me?”
“To you,” her dad’s voice had a smile. “It was a gift for you, remember? For graduating university. Your mum and I… we just got a bit confused. Gave in to the pressure. Forgive us.”
Emma felt tears welling up in her eyes.
“Dad, I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just be happy. And… we’re proud of you. Proud that you stood up for yourself. Even when we didn’t back you up.”
After the call, Emma sat in silence, staring out the window.
“What happened?” Mike asked, covering her hand with his own.
“I think I just became an adult,” Emma replied quietly. “For real.”
The rain continued to fall, washing away traces of the past and providing a blank slate for a new life. A life where she could choose who to let into her home and her heart.
