Lena sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes weary as they settled on the neat stack of banknotes laid out before her on the table. For two years, she and little Archie had scrimped and saved every penny, every pound, to afford what once seemed like pure fantasy—a holiday by the sea. A cosy cottage by the shore, fresh fish for supper, the murmur of waves, the whisper of the wind, freedom from the grind of daily life—it all felt like a reward for years of toil, sacrifice, and the rare little joys they allowed themselves.
“We’ve earned this,” Lena thought, staring at the money. She wanted to believe fortune would finally smile on them. This summer was to be their long-awaited breath of air, a reprieve from the endless rush.
Archie bounded into the room, ten years old and wide-eyed, fiddling with a pair of headphones—a birthday gift Lena had bought despite their strict budget, just to see him smile.
“Mum, are you sure?” he asked, plopping onto the chair and studying her intently.
“Yes, love,” Lena replied softly. “It’s quiet there, the beach is near untouched, and there’s a market with fresh fruit. Imagine—lying in the sun, the sea, the air, no rushing about…”
Archie grinned and nodded, but a shadow flickered in his eyes. He knew how hard it was for her, how she pinched pennies, how every pound in that envelope had cost her something. This holiday was their shared dream, treasured like gold.
Then the phone rang. “Antony” flashed on the screen.
“Hello, sis!” came her brother’s booming voice. “What’s the plan this summer?”
Lena sighed. Antony had always been difficult—bossy, convinced he knew best, never shy about reminding everyone.
“Taking Archie to the seaside,” she said carefully. “Just a little place by the coast, somewhere to relax.”
“Why waste the money?” Antony chuckled. “We’ve got a cottage by the sea! Come stay. Fresh air, berries, peace and quiet. And it’s free.”
Lena hesitated. Antony always acted like he had life figured out. But Archie perked up at the thought of seeing family.
“Mum, a whole cottage by the sea!” he said hopefully. “Let’s go to Uncle Antony’s! We can save the money for later.”
Lena exhaled, uneasy but nodding. “Alright,” she agreed. “We’ll come.”
Antony met them at the station with a bear hug and a grin. “About time! Been ages!” he declared, squeezing Lena tight. “Come on, supper’s waiting.”
His wife, Irene, stood beside their three-year-old, Sophie, who waved excitedly.
“What a reunion!” Irene trilled, pulling Lena into an embrace.
The cottage was charming—wooden beams, wicker chairs on the porch, a swing beneath an apple tree, a hammock swaying in the breeze. The beach was a fifteen-minute stroll down a path wild with flowers and tall grass. For two days, it was paradise—sunbathing, swimming in the crisp sea, devouring fresh scones and strawberries, listening to birdsong and the tide.
Lena watched Archie race with Sophie, pluck apples, feed ducks in the nearby pond, and for the first time in years, her heart felt light.
But on the third morning, the peace cracked. Over breakfast, Antony turned to her.
“Lena, you’re handy in the kitchen, yeah? Fancy making soup for lunch? Irene’s knackered with Sophie.”
Lena blinked but nodded. “Of course.”
That evening, as the family gathered, Antony asked, “Lena, mind doing the washing-up? We’re shattered.”
“Alright,” she murmured, hiding her surprise.
By the fourth day, Archie was handed a basket. “Go pick raspberries, lad. Everyone loves a pie.”
“But I wanted to go to the beach,” he mumbled.
“Work first, play later,” Antony said flatly.
The tasks piled up. Lena scrubbed floors, minded Sophie while Irene shopped. Archie weeded, hauled water from the well. What began as helping soon felt like servitude. Their holiday had warped into labour.
That evening, Archie sat on the porch, his hands scratched, his voice small. “Mum… why can’t we just go to the beach?”
Lena bit her lip, fighting tears. Injustice and confusion tightened her chest.
“It’ll be alright,” she whispered. “We’ll rest soon.”
But dread gnawed at her. Leaving felt impossible. Staying felt worse.
The next day, Lena confronted Antony.
“Antony, we came here to see the sea,” she said carefully.
He scowled. “Lena, don’t be daft. There’s work to do. Who’ll tend the garden or mind Sophie if you swan off? And speaking of—lend us some of that holiday money, eh? Need new windows. You’ve saved up, and now you’re staying here free.”
“No! That’s our money!” Lena burst out. “Two years we saved!”
“You’re eating our food, sleeping under our roof,” Antony snapped. “Consider it rent.”
Lena stood, fury boiling. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
Antony smirked. “Doubt it. I’ve already taken the cash from your purse. You can nip to the beach in the morning, but chores await. List’s on the fridge.”
Archie stared, disbelieving. Lena trembled with rage and fear.
That night, sleep wouldn’t come. Moonlight washed the room in cold silver, the walls pressing closer. She grabbed her phone and texted her ex-husband.
*Paul, sorry to bother you. We need help. Antony’s keeping us here, took our money.*
The reply came fast. *Be there by morning. Hang tight.*
At dawn, a familiar Land Rover pulled up. Paul stepped out.
“Where’s Antony?” he demanded, striding inside.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Antony sneered.
“Here for my son. We’re leaving.”
“My house, my rules!” Antony barked.
“My family. Fancy trouble? Where’s the money?”
“Took it for lodging!”
Paul flashed his police badge. Antony fell silent, fists clenched, then hurled the stolen cash onto the table.
“Get out.”
Lena and Archie packed in a flurry. Paul drove them to a seaside inn.
“Ta, Paul… you saved us.”
“Next time, think. I won’t always be this quick.”
Two hours later, they stood on an empty beach. Waves roared, wind tangled their hair, the sun high and bright.
“Mum,” Archie said quietly, “why’d Uncle Antony do that?”
Lena sank onto the warm sand, pulling him close. She had no answer.
“Some folks don’t know kindness or honesty, love.”
“Let’s not go back.”
“Let’s not,” she agreed, finally feeling the weight lift.
Better to pay for peace.
Free cheese isn’t just in the mousetrap—it’s at family’s cottages too.
