“I need to explain everything to you, my daughter…”
“Enjoy your meal!” said Laura, sitting down at the table.
Everyone in the family had their favourite spot. Her husband always sat facing the window, twelve-year-old Sophie opposite him, and Laura, as the lady of the house, took her place between them, her back to the oven and sink.
She adored these quiet evenings when the whole family gathered around the table. Mornings were always rushed—work, school, no time for conversation. Laura and her husband ate lunch at their jobs, and Sophie either ate at home or at her friend’s house, where the girl’s grandmother baked pies and made roast dinners. Dinner was the only time they could all sit together, talk without hurry, and share their day.
Laura had always wanted a close-knit family. Sure, she’d had her mum, her dad, then her stepdad and younger sister—but she always felt on the outside. That’s just how it was sometimes.
She barely remembered her father. He never shouted, never scolded, mostly stayed silent—but his eyes were cold and indifferent. That’s why she had been afraid of him. Her mother wasn’t much of a talker either, lips always tightly pressed together, never smiling.
When Laura married, she finally had a family of her own, and she made rules: meals together on weekends, family dinners during the week. Not just sitting at the same table, but actually sharing, discussing, planning.
Once the meal was finished, Laura asked:
“Where are we going for holiday this year? We need to decide soon, book tickets and a hotel before it’s too late.”
“What if we stay at my parents’ cottage?” suggested David. “Dad mentioned needing help with the fence and the roof.”
“Ugh. I want to go south, to the seaside,” twelve-year-old Sophie whined unhappily.
“Going south costs money, and we’re still paying off the mortgage. The car needs new tyres, too. We’d save a lot staying at the cottage. We could still take day trips—maybe to the Lake District. It’s lovely in summer.”
Sophie and David both turned to Laura, waiting for her opinion.
“I agree with your dad. Though I wouldn’t mind the seaside either.”
“See! I told you!” Sophie exclaimed triumphantly.
Just then, the phone rang.
“Yours,” David said, popping the last bite of his dinner into his mouth.
Laura set her fork down and went to the living room. It was her mother.
“Mum, what’s wrong?”
“Am I interrupting? Laura, we need to talk. Come over.” Her mother’s voice was clipped.
“Now? Are you okay?” Laura’s pulse quickened.
“I’m fine. Just come.” The call ended.
“What’s going on?” David asked when she returned to the kitchen.
“Mum rang. Wants me to come over—needs to talk. Feels like it’s about Emily again.”
“You’d better go, then. I’ll drive you.”
“No, I’ll take the bus. If I need a lift back, I’ll ring.”
“Of course.”
Laura grabbed her coat and left. They didn’t live far—just a few stops away. The whole bus ride, she wondered what could possibly be so urgent. Her mother never asked for advice—why now? Her gut told her it wasn’t good.
Her mum opened the door, visibly distressed.
“Come to the kitchen. Fancy a cuppa?”
“Just had one,” Laura dismissed her, sitting down.
The kitchen was cramped, the table wedged awkwardly next to the fridge. They sat at an angle, neither facing the other. Her mother fidgeted with a loose thread on her jumper while Laura studied the new lines on her face. Had she aged that much since their last visit?
“Mum, relax. What did you want to talk about?” Laura pressed gently.
“Emily called,” her mother began hesitantly.
“I knew it.” Laura couldn’t help the sharpness in her voice.
Her mother shot her a disapproving look.
“What is it this time? Spit it out.”
“She asked for money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand pounds.”
Laura nearly choked. “What on earth for? She married that rich bloke from Turkey—remember how she bragged about him right here at this table?”
“Something’s gone wrong with Said’s business. He owes a huge amount. She wasn’t clear—maybe swindled, maybe robbed. The money’s urgent—or else he’s in real danger.”
“Good riddance,” Laura muttered.
“Laura!” her mother scolded.
“Fine, fine. But Mum—where are we supposed to get that kind of money? She knows how we live! She was the one bragging about Said being loaded, his dad’s big business. Surely his own family can step in?”
“Emily said they’ve already sold their house. They’re staying with Said’s parents. His father already covered part of the debt, but they still need twenty thousand more.”
Laura scoffed. “Euros? Dollars?”
“Pounds. I’ve decided—I’m selling the flat. But I don’t know how to do it alone. That’s why I called you—to help me.”
“Mum, are you mad? Selling your flat—and in a hurry! If Emily were in trouble herself, fine. But you’re selling your home for Said? Where will you go?”
Her voice trembled. “I thought… maybe I could stay with you, if you’ll have me.”
Laura stared, stunned. Emily had truly lost it, dumping this on their mother. Was she even thinking?
“Mum, don’t cry—we’ll figure something out. Maybe Emily should come back here while Said sorts his mess? I’ll scrape together her ticket money.”
“She can’t. She’s pregnant again.”
Laura groaned. “Of course she is. And what perfect timing.”
“I’ve made up my mind. There’s no other way. I won’t abandon her. I’m not asking for advice—just help to sell the flat quickly.”
“Mum, do you have any idea how hard it is to sell a flat? Getting buyers, moving—it takes time. If we rush, we’ll get less than it’s worth. Let’s think of another way. I’ll talk to David—we’ll sort it. Don’t work yourself into hysterics.”
On the bus home, Laura seethed. Emily always got what she wanted. Spoilt rotten their whole lives, and now she was dragging their mother into this. Surely there were other ways to get the money over there without uprooting their mother’s whole life?
Of course, if it came to it, her mum could stay with them—no question. Sophie would have to share a room, though, and she wouldn’t be thrilled.
That Said had never sat right with her. Handsome, sure. Emily had met him on holiday in Turkey three years ago. Came back glowing, wouldn’t stop raving about his fancy house and wealthy family. Said he was coming to marry her.
Laura had tried warning her then—why would a wealthy Turkish man settle for a British girl, no matter how pretty? She didn’t speak the language, didn’t know the customs. But did anyone listen? No. Mum and Emily just assumed she was jealous.
And what even was Said’s line of work? Something dodgy, no doubt. Now their mother was ready to make herself homeless for Emily’s sake.
By the time she got home, Laura was fuming. She and David argued late into the night, scrambling for solutions.
“We’ll take out a loan, sell Mum’s flat properly, buy her a smaller one, and pay back what we can. No holiday by the sea—cottage it is.”
David sighed. “We’ll manage. Just reassure your mum.”
This was why she loved him. No Turkish prince could compare—steady, reliable, willing to shoulder her family’s mess.
She barely slept, her mind spinning back through the years…
* * *
Her father left before Laura turned six. She barely remembered him—just a stiff, unsmiling presence, like a newsreader on the telly. Her mother, never chatty to begin with, turned even quieter after he left, though she never cried. When Gran visited, they’d whisper in the kitchen.
When Laura started school, Gran picked her up in the afternoons, fed her at her house, and brought her home in the evenings. Sometimes Laura slept over, weekends stretching into Mondays.
“Am I living with you now?” she’d once asked.
Gran sighed. “No, love. Your mum’s got a new gentleman friend. Let’s hope it works out this time.”
Then Mum introduced her to Uncle George—round-faced, always laughing. Mum was different around him, smiling more. They’d stroll in the park, George buying her ice cream, helping with homework.
They married, swapped flats with Gran—now Laura had her own room. Bliss—until Emily arrived in Year 3.
The house revolved around the screaming baby. Mum barely managed, shushing everyone lest they wake her. LauraEventually, Laura realised that true family wasn’t about the past, but the love they chose to share now, and she held her mother’s hand tightly, knowing they had finally found their way back to each other.
