“Either you let my brother move into your flat, or pack your things and clear out!” snapped the husband.
Victoria had stayed late at worktwo whole hours longer than usual. Two new clients had booked appointments after glowing recommendations from friends.
“We only want you, Mrs. Victoria! Youre hands down the best hairdresser in our town!” Those words had kept her smiling the whole way home.
Perhaps it really was time to take the leap and start her own business? Enough waiting for “the right moment.”
Lost in thought, Victoria barely noticed the journey home. As she climbed the stairs to her flat, unfamiliar voices drifted from inside. She unlocked the door and froze in the doorway. A battered rucksack lay in the hall, muddy boots strewn across the floor, and the stale stench of alcohol hung in the air.
“Vicky, recognise the prodigal brother? Cyrils back!” Her husband, Paul, peered out from the kitchen with an odd, forced smile.
His younger brother sat slumped on the kitchen sofa, staring vacantly at the table. The same Cyril who, four years ago, had walked out to live with some dancer from a nightclub.
“Hi,” Cyril muttered without looking up.
“Mum, whos that?” whispered Alice, just back from her dance class.
“Thats your Uncle Cyril, Dads brother,” Victoria said evenly. “You were too little to remember him when he left.”
“Whys he so strange?” Alice lowered her voice.
“Go to your room, love. Well talk later.”
Victoria shut herself in the bathroom and turned on the tap. She needed a moment to steady herself. The mirror reflected a tired face. She ran a hand through her hairthe roots needed touching up, but that was the least of her worries.
Four years ago, when Cyril left, shed seen how it crushed Paul. He hadnt spoken to his parents for a month, blaming them for driving his brother away. Eventually, hed let it go, stopped mentioning Cyril, ignored the rare phone calls. But now, it seemed, everything had changed.
Paul followed her into the bedroom, hesitated, then said quietly, “Hes staying with us. For a while. He needs help. Hes in a bad way. His wife cheatedtheyre divorced. He cant go to Mum and Dads.”
“And you decided this without asking me? Without a single discussion?” Victoria turned on him. “Dont you think thats a bit much?”
“What was there to discuss? Hes my brother. Hes got nowhere else.”
“Paul, we have a teenage daughter. Have you seen the state hes in? Do you really think its right for her to see that every day? Cyril”
“Thats exactly why he needs us. Family!” Paul met her eyes for the first time that evening. “You know I cant abandon him. I wont.”
“How long?”
“As long as it takes. He needs to get back on his feet.”
“And what about Alice? Have you even thought about her? At her age”
“Vicky, stop!” Paul raised his voicesomething hed never done before. “Hes my brother. My little brother. I wont leave him alone in this.”
Victoria opened her mouth but stopped. Something in his tone made her pause. In fourteen years together, shed never heard such hardness in his voice.
“Fine,” she turned to the window. “But tell him no drinking in the house. And he finds a job.”
Paul said nothing, walking out silently. Through the thin walls, she heard him murmuring to Cyril in the kitchentoo quiet for her to catch.
It was well past midnight when the voices finally died down. Victoria lay awake, listening to footsteps in the hall. Paul didnt come to bed for hours, likely settling Cyril in the living room.
“Itll all work out,” he whispered as he finally slipped under the covers. But she wasnt so sure anymore.
***
Morning brought the sour reek of last nights drinking. Victoria silently made Alices breakfast, ignoring the empty bottles and overflowing ashtray.
A month in, shed grown used to their kitchen doubling as an all-hours pub for the two men.
“Mum, off to school,” Alice muttered, sidling past her snoring uncle, hugging her backpack. Lately, the girl stayed out as much as possiblejoining clubs, lingering at friends houses.
Victoria watched her hurry out, anger simmering inside. This “temporary” guest had managed, in a month, to dismantle everything theyd built: cosy family evenings, shared meals, honest talks with Alice.
“Morning,” Paul emerged, already dressed. “Coffee?”
“Leftover from yesterday,” she nodded at the pot. “We need to talk.”
“Not nowIm late,” he grimaced at the cold dregs.
“When, Paul? Youre always late. Evenings are for Cyril.”
He paused at the door. “What are you getting at?”
“That we need to sort this. We cant keep supporting a grown man forever. It isnt right!”
“Hes depressed, Vicky. Cant you see hes falling apart?”
“And what about us? What about Alice? She barely comes home anymore. I walk into this mess every day. You”
“What about me?”
“Youve changed. Like I dont even know you anymore.”
Paul set his cup down hard. “Well talk tonight. Calmly. No hysterics.”
“No. Now.” She blocked his path. “I want Cyril out within the week. Let him rent a place, get a jobwhatever. But not live off us!”
“Youre serious?” Pauls eyes narrowed. “Youd throw my own brother onto the street?”
“Im saying were not a free hotel! Hes not even trying to change!”
“He needs time! Its obvious!”
“How much? A month? A year? His whole life?” Victorias voice rose. “Do you even see what this is doing to our family? Or dont you care?”
“And do you see that hes my family too? I wont abandon him like our parents did. Not even if you demand it!”
“So thats your choice?” Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Its not a choice, Vicky. Its duty. But you refuse to understand.”
He left, closing the door softly behind him. From the living room came Cyrils snores. Victoria sank onto a chair, staring at the cold coffee in Pauls cup.
Hed never before left without kissing her goodbye.
***
For nearly a week, they barely spoke.
Victoria left early, came back late. Paul pretended not to noticestaying up with Cyril, lost in their own world.
Alice flitted between them, trying to ease the tension, only to be met with clipped replies: “Its fine, love. Dont worry.”
At night, lying awake, Victoria caught fragments of kitchen whispers: “She doesnt get it family sticks together youre too soft on her”
***
On Friday, Paul came home early. Cyril was asleep in the living room; Alice had music blaring in her room.
Victoria stirred soup on the hob, the mindless motion steadying her thoughts.
“Ive sorted it,” Paul leaned in the doorway, confident. “Found a solution that works for everyone.”
She kept stirring. Silence had become safer this past week.
“Its obvious. Cyril can stay in your flat.”
She set the spoon down slowly. That flat was her lifelineleft to her by her godmother before theyd married. Shed always decided its fate alone. Until now.
“Its rented,” she said carefully.
“So? Give them notice. Theyll find somewhere. Whats the issue?”
“Paul, are you hearing yourself? Theyve paid a year upfront. Theyve got kids. I wont do it. Not happening.”
“Well, I tried! Cyril stays here, then. No discussion!” He shrugged. “Your call!”
She dried her hands deliberately, turning to face him.
“Youre seriously suggesting we evict a paying familywith childrenso your brother lives there rent-free?”
“What other option is there? You wanted him out.”
“I wanted him to stand on his own feet. Get a job, rent a place. Be a man, not a leech!”
“Hes depressed!”
“Really? Depressed? Or just happy to live off us? Drink our wine, eat our food, sleep on our sofa!”
Pauls fists clenched. “Dont you dare talk about my brother like that! Youve no right! Stop now, or I wont be responsible!”
Victoria studied him. This wasnt just temporary blindnessthis was a choice. And hed made it.
“Fine,” she smiled faintly. “I understand.”
Paul blinked, thrown. Hed expected screaming, tears. “What what do you understand?”
“Everything. Dinners ready. Call your brother?”
He hesitated, searching her eerily calm face, then left. Once alone, Victoria pulled out
