The Neighbours Who Overstayed Their Welcome: How Emily Drew the Line
James arrived home exhausted, and the flat smelled delicious—roast meat was in the oven, and Emily was chopping salad. He kissed his wife and remarked,
“Smells amazing.”
“Trying my best for our guests,” she replied with a smile.
“My relatives?” James frowned. “I asked you not to bother.”
“Well, what else could I do? They’re family. They’ve been working all day—they’ll want dinner.”
“Emily, you’ll understand later… You should’ve listened.”
A few hours earlier, his mother had called:
“Love, Lucy—Lydia’s daughter—and her husband have just bought a flat near yours. There’s no water while the place gets renovated. Lydia’s begging—let them shower at yours for a few days.”
James wasn’t thrilled. He’d never liked Lucy much—too sly, just like her mother.
“Fine,” he sighed. “They can come over, but just to shower—nothing else.”
Lucy and her husband, Nick, showed up by evening.
“Hello! I’m Lucy, this is my husband. You must be Emily?”
Without waiting for an invitation, Lucy wandered through the rooms, testing door handles, even peeking into the bedroom. James shut the door firmly.
“I thought you were just here to shower?”
“Oh, absolutely! Emily, could we borrow some towels? We didn’t bring any.”
Once they were done washing up, they made no move to leave. They settled in the living room, sniffing the aroma of the roast.
“That smells incredible!” Lucy chirped. “What’s for dinner?”
Emily sighed and invited them to stay.
They polished off every scrap. When they left, they forgot the towels, sponges, and shampoo. Emily shook her head.
“The shampoo and shower gel don’t matter, but we’ll need new sponges.”
The next day, it happened again. And the next. Emily made a broccoli bake, and Lucy wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh! You eat this? Give us a proper steak.”
On the fourth night, it was pasta with Bolognese. Lucy still wasn’t satisfied.
“Hardly any meat. Just sauce.”
James turned to Nick.
“When’s the water getting fixed?”
“Oh, it’s back on,” Nick admitted.
Lucy jumped in smoothly.
“But the showerhead isn’t fitted yet…”
After dinner, Emily gave James a look.
“I’ve got a plan to put them off. But you’ll need to play along.”
The next evening, as the guests settled in, Emily brought out a tray of dry oats, grated apple, and honey.
“It’s a ‘Beauty Salad.’ Super healthy. James and I are living on it now.”
Lucy tried chewing but clearly hated it. They left quickly.
“You’re cooking tonight,” Emily told James. “There are dumplings in the freezer.”
A day later, Lucy rang.
“Making that salad again?”
“Afraid so—Emily won’t budge. If you come over, bring some roast beef—I can’t take much more of this.”
“Actually, we won’t be back. We’ve got water *and* a showerhead now.”
A few days later, James’s mum called.
“Lydia says Emily’s starving you.”
“Mum, don’t listen to nonsense. I’m fed, healthy, and happy. And guess what? We’re moving into a house next month, selling this flat. Then we’ll see who’s family.”
