I need to explain everything to you, love…
“Hope you enjoy your meal!” said Laura, settling at the table.
Everyone in the family had their favorite spot. Her husband always sat facing the window, their twelve-year-old daughter Sophie across from him, and Laura—as the lady of the house—between them, her back to the stove and sink.
She adored these evening meals when the whole family gathered together. Mornings were rushed—off to work and school, no time for chat. Laura and her husband ate lunch at their offices, while Sophie usually had hers at home or at her best mate’s place, where her friend’s nan baked pies and made hearty stews. So, dinner was their only chance to sit down, unwind, and really talk.
Laura had always wanted a close-knit family. She’d had her mum, her dad (until he left), then her stepdad and her little sister. But she’d always felt like an outsider, separate from them. Some things just happen that way.
She barely remembered her father. He never shouted, never scolded—just stayed quiet, watching her with this cold, indifferent look. Maybe that’s why she’d been a bit scared of him. Her mum wasn’t much of a talker either, lips always pressed tight, hardly ever smiling.
When Laura married, she made her own family—and she set rules. Weekends were for lazy lunches together, weeknights for proper dinners. Not just sitting at the same table, but actually sharing stories, making plans, talking things through.
Once they’d all eaten, Laura asked,
“Where should we go on holiday this year? We need to book flights and a hotel soon—before everything’s gone.”
“What if we just stay at my parents’ cottage? Dad’s been needing help with the fence and the roof,” suggested Mark.
“Ugh… I want to go south, to the seaside,” Sophie groaned, slumping in her chair.
“That costs money, love. We’ve still got the mortgage to pay, and the car needs new tyres. Staying at the cottage saves us a lot. We can always drive out somewhere—maybe the Lake District? It’s lovely in summer.”
Sophie and Mark both turned to Laura, waiting for her answer.
“I agree with your dad. Though I’d love the seaside too.”
“See? I *told* you!” Sophie cheered.
Just then, the phone rang.
“Yours,” Mark said, popping the last bite of his dinner roll into his mouth.
Laura set her fork down and walked to the living room. It was her mum.
“Mum? Everything alright?”
“Am I interrupting? Laura, I need to talk. Come over,” her mother said, short and clipped.
“Now? Are you ill?” Laura’s stomach tightened.
“I’m fine. Just come.” Then she hung up.
“What’s wrong?” Mark asked when Laura returned.
“Mum called. Wants me to go round—needs to talk. Bet it’s something to do with Alice again.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“No, I’ll go alone. If I need picking up later—”
“Course.”
Laura grabbed her coat and left. They didn’t live far from her mum—just a couple of bus stops away. The whole ride, her mind raced. Why the urgency? Her mum never asked for advice. Instinct told her this wouldn’t be good.
Her mum opened the door, and Laura saw right away how upset she was.
“Let’s go to the kitchen. Want tea?”
“Just had dinner,” Laura waved her off.
The kitchen was tiny, the table wedged against the fridge so they couldn’t sit opposite each other. Instead, they sat at an angle. As her mum gathered her thoughts, Laura studied her tense face, the fine wrinkles—had there been more since she last saw her? Her mum was fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. Laura reached over and covered her hands.
“Mum, relax. What’s going on?” she asked gently.
“Alice called…” her mum started carefully.
“Of course she did,” Laura muttered.
Her mum gave her a sharp look.
“What’s happened *this* time? Just say it.”
“She asked for money.”
“Oh? How much?”
“Two hundred grand.”
Laura actually laughed. *What?* “Thought she married some rich bloke? Remember her gushing about it right here at this table?”
“Something’s gone wrong with Said’s business. He owes a huge amount. Either he got scammed or robbed—I didn’t follow. She says if they don’t pay up, they’ll—”
“Wouldn’t be much of a loss,” Laura cut in.
“*Laura.*”
“Fine, fine. But where on earth would we get that kind of money? Has she forgotten how we live? She went on about how loaded he was—his dad’s got some big business, yeah? Can’t *he* help?”
“Alice said Said’s sold their house. They’re living with his parents now. His father’s paid some of it, but they still need two hundred.”
“Pounds? Dollars?”
“Pounds. I’ve decided. I’ll sell the flat. But I’m scared to do it alone—I need your help.”
Laura froze. “Mum, are you *serious*? Selling the flat—that’s not quick! And doing it fast means losing money. I’d get it if Alice was in trouble, but you’d sell *your home* for *him*? Where would *you* live?”
Her mum’s voice was small. “I thought… maybe with you, if you’d have me.” Then she started crying.
Laura sat there, stunned. Alice had truly lost it, dumping this on their mum. What was she *thinking*?
“Mum, don’t cry. We’ll figure something out. Maybe Alice should just come back while Said sorts his mess? I can scrape together her fare.”
“She can’t.” Her mum swallowed hard. “She’s pregnant again.”
Laura threw her hands up. “Of *course* she is. Perfect timing.”
“I’ve made up my mind. I can’t leave her like this. I won’t say no. I’m not asking for advice—just help to sell the flat quickly.”
“Mum, do you even know how this works? You’d have to move out, find a buyer—it’ll take *weeks*. If you rush, you’ll lose *thousands*. Let me talk to Mark—we’ll figure out another way. Don’t stress yourself sick over this.”
On the bus home, Laura fumed. Alice had *always* gotten whatever she wanted. Their mum had spoiled her rotten, and now she’d grown up selfish, only caring about herself. Two hundred grand? She’d have found a way if she *really* needed it. Why drag their mum into it?
Of *course* she’d take her mum in—no question. Sophie would have to share her room with Gran, though. She wouldn’t be thrilled.
That Said had never sat right with her. Handsome, sure. Alice had met him in Turkey three years ago on holiday with a friend. Came back raving about him—his fancy house, his loaded parents. Said he’d come for her soon.
Laura and their mum had tried to talk her out of marrying him and leaving the country. Then Alice announced she was pregnant. Laura had *known* something was off. Why would a rich Turk want a British girl—pretty or not? Plenty of beauties there. Alice didn’t speak the language, didn’t know the culture, didn’t even share his religion. But no one listened. They’d all decided Laura was just jealous.
And what did Said even *do*? You don’t earn that kind of money legally. Probably something dodgy. Now their mum wouldn’t back down—she’d end up homeless before letting her favourite daughter struggle.
Laura got home wound up tighter than a coiled spring. She and Mark argued late into the night, scrambling for ways to get the money.
“We’ll find it,” Mark said finally. “Just reassure your mum.”
*This* was why she loved him. No Turkish charmer for her—he was solid, dependable. Ready to fix her sister’s messes, worry about her mum.
She lay awake for hours, remembering…
***
Her dad had left before she turned six. She barely recalled him—just this stiff, serious man who reminded her of a newsreader, never smiling. Her mum had never been chatty, but after he left, she’d shut down completely. When Gran visited, they’d whisper in the kitchen.
Once Laura started school, Gran would pick her up, feed her, bring her home at night. Sometimes she’d sleep over, even spend whole weekends there.
“Am I living with you now?” Laura had asked once.
“No, love. Your mum’s got a gentleman friend. Might work out.” Gran sighed, stroking her hair.
Then Mum introduced her to Uncle George. Red-faced from laughing so much. With him, Mum was *different*—smAnd in the end, Laura realized that even though life had been unfair, love—whether given late or earned through patience—was still worth every struggle.
