**Diary Entry**
*June 12th*
“Either you let my brother move in, or pack your things and get out!” Marks words still echo in my head.
I stayed late at the salon tonighttwo new clients booked appointments after glowing recommendations. “We only want *you*, Emily! Youre the best hairdresser in Manchester!” Their praise warmed me all the way home. Maybe it *is* time to open my own place. Enough waiting for “someday.”
Lost in thought, I barely noticed the unfamiliar voices spilling from our flat. The second I opened the door, the stench of stale beer hit me. A scuffed rucksack lay in the hall, muddy boots kicked off by the shoe rack.
“Em, look whos back!” Mark grinned from the kitchen, his smile tight. His younger brother, Daniel, slouched on the sofa, staring blankly at the coffee table. The same Daniel whod vanished four years ago with some nightclub dancer.
“Hi,” he muttered, not even glancing up.
“Mum, whos that?” Lily whispered, fresh from ballet class.
“Your uncle Dan. Dads brother. You were little when he left.”
“Whys he so weird?”
“Go to your room, love. Well talk later.”
I locked myself in the loo, splashing cold water on my face. The mirror showed dark roots and exhaustion. Four years ago, when Daniel walked out, Mark barely spoke to his parents for months. He blamed them for driving him away. Thensilence. No calls, no mentions. Until tonight.
Mark followed me to the bedroom, hesitating before saying, “Hes staying. Hes in a bad way. His wife cheated, and hes got nowhere else.”
“You decided without *asking* me?”
“What was there to ask? Hes my *brother*.”
“Weve got a *teenage daughter*. Should she see him like this?”
“Thats *why* he needs us!” Marks voice crackeda tone Id never heard in fourteen years.
I turned away. “Fine. But no drinking here. And he finds a job.”
Mark left without another word. Midnight came and went, the murmur of their voices through the walls keeping me awake.
“Everythingll be fine,” he whispered, sliding into bed. For the first time, I wasnt sure.
—
*July 10th*
A month later, our kitchen reeks of last nights lager. Empty bottles clutter the table; Lily sidesteps her snoring uncle, clutching her schoolbag. “Bye, Mum!” Shes never home anymorealways at friends or after-school clubs.
Mark breezes in, suit ready, ignoring the mess. “Coffee?”
“Leftover. From *yesterday*.”
“Not now, Im late.”
“Then *when*? Youre either working or with *him*.”
His cup clatters. “Whats your problem?”
“Problem? Were housing a grown man who does *nothing*!”
“Hes depressed!”
“*We* arent? Lily avoids this place! Youve changedI dont even know you anymore!”
“Enough!” He storms out. No goodbye kiss.
—
*August 1st*
Three weeks of silence. Lily stays with Gran. The flats theirs nowfootball, takeaways, loud debates. Im a ghost here.
Then tonight: “Great news!” Mark beams. “Dans moving out! Found some gig.”
My heart leapsuntil: “Just call your tenants. Give them a month to leave. Well compensate them.”
“*No.* Thats final.”
His chair screeches. “Hes *trying* now! Why wont you help?”
“Help? By evicting a family with *kids*?”
The mug shatters against the wall.
“Listen well,” he snarls. “Either you let Dan into *your* flat, or *get out*.”
I wipe spilled tea, calm. “I made my choice weeks ago.”
—
*September 5th*
The solicitors papers gleam on the bedside table. Divorce filed. My flatthe one he wanted for Dansold. Our homes next.
Mark pales. “Youre *leaving*?”
“To Bristol. Lilys coming. Ive booked a studio space.”
“Y-You cant!”
Dan stumbles in, bleary. “Whats going on?”
“Nothing new,” I say softly. “Some men would rather save their brother than their marriage.”
—
*October 15th*
Bristol smells of rain and fresh starts. Lily hums as she unpacks. “Mum, when do we see your salon?”
“Tomorrow, love.”
No more strangers. No more yelling. Just silenceand the quiet thrill of *freedom*.
