Dear Diary,
We were planning to ring in the New Year at your cottage, I announced, holding the spare set of keys. My sisterinlaw, Gwen, snapped, Why bother traveling to a cottage? You and your wife can celebrate just fine at home. Besides, weve got three kids to keep occupied over the holidays! Her voice trembled with irritation. Do you even know what its like to live with three youngsters?
I cant imagine, I replied calmly. Mike and I havent even started thinking about children yet. First we need a roof over our heads and a steady job, then perhaps well consider a family.
Thats absurd! Mike and I never planned anything like that! Gwen retorted.
Then youre living on child benefits, I pointed out. You hop from one temporary job to another, no stability. I wont live like that.
Thats our business. Dont count other peoples money! she shouted. Now, hand over the cottage keys.
No, I said firmly. Weve already arranged to spend New Years there with friends.
So renegotiate! she threatened. If you dont hand them over nicely, Ill call Mike and tell him how rude youve been.
Go right ahead, for all I care, she smirked, before storming out of the flat.
The cottage Gwen coveted had been left to Claire by her grandmother, Mrs. Margaret Whitfield, a frail lady in her eighties. Claires parents insisted Margaret live in the city under their watch all year round.
In reality the cottage was a solid country house, fully modernised. Five years ago Claires parents added an extension to create a bathroom for Margaret and installed central heating. Margaret refused to leave the countryside, but as her health waned she began to contemplate a move. She commanded that the house never be sold and that the garden be tended so no tree suffered the frost.
Claire asked her parents to let her look after the place. She remembered long summer holidays spent at her grandmothers, some of the happiest moments of her childhood. With Mikes blessing, she set about a cosmetic overhaul: fresh wallpaper, painted ceilings, new chandeliers, and a few pieces of contemporary furniture.
It cost a tidy sumseveral thousand poundsbut the result was a cosy retreat suitable for any season. So the young couple invited their friends over for a New Years gathering without a second thought.
Then Gwen arrived, demanding Claire hand over the cottage. She claimed, with a smirk, that because Mike was younger he should bow to his elder sister. Claire could not see how her grandmothers home was anyones business and felt no guilt in refusing.
Gwens face flushed with anger. Instead of calling her younger brother, she marched straight to his office. Mike was startled when, midway through the workday, his sister burst into the openplan area.
Mike! she shouted, drawing the attention of nearby colleagues. We need to talk, now!
Quiet down, he snapped. People are working here. Lets step into the staff room.
Mike lit a cigarette, sensing trouble.
What do you want? he asked shortly.
I want the keys to your cottage! Gwen demanded.
What cottage? he asked, confused. Oh you mean the country house?
Yes, that one, she said, pursing her lips. Ive already planned my New Years celebration. You need to speak with your wife and get the keys from her, she added, crossing her arms defiantly.
Even if I could, I wouldnt, Mike replied, irritated. How dare you make such a demand? Its already the 25th of Decemberproper people give notice well in advance!
Dont lecture me, its nothing! she snapped.
Were only five years apart, Mike tried to reason. If it mattered when we were kids, it doesnt now. My break is over; you should go home.
Gwen left, more upset than when she entered, yet she refused to give up.
On the morning of 31December, Claire rushed from shop to shop while Mike finished his final shift of the year. He promised to be free after lunch, but Claire still felt uneasy. By six oclock the couple arrived in the village, wrestled the old heating system back to life, and began setting the table for the evening feast. By nine, guests started to trickle in, ready to grill sausages and toast the departing year.
Mike, I think someones pulling up, Claire noted. Probably Ellie and Tom; theyre always the first to arrive.
Ill meet them and help with the luggage, Mike replied.
Claire beamed, thrilled that New Years would finally unfold as shed always imagined: outdoors, surrounded by close friends.
Mike grabbed his coat and stepped outside. As he opened the gate, Gwen appeared, cheeks flushed, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
Happy New Year, brother! she chirped.
He stared, stunned, while Tom unloaded bags from the boot. Gwen jabbered about the party, but Mike could barely process her sudden appearance.
What are you doing here? he finally asked. We sorted this weeks ago.
You decided, and I never said Id agree, Gwen replied, raising an eyebrow.
Mike, whats the holdup? Claire asked, surprised to see Gwen, Mikes older sister, standing there.
Yes! Gwen declared proudly. Things dont always go your way, she added smugly.
When Tom tried to carry the first crate inside, Mike grabbed his arm.
Youre not going in, he said curtly.
Gwen, helping the children unbuckle their car seats, heard the tension and lunged at Mike.
Let Tom in now! she shouted.
I wont, Mike retorted, raising his voice. Everyone, pack up and leave immediately!
What did you say? Gwen sneered, tugging at his sleeve.
Were not leaving, she said haughtily. We have a whole carload of kids.
I love my nieces and nephews, but theyll have to celebrate elsewhere tonight, Mike explained. Youll not be allowed inside.
Will you call the police? Gwen asked sarcastically.
Id consider it if it werent New Years Eve, Claire intervened. Better you all leave peacefully, or my friends husbandhes a boxerwill make sure youre not welcome.
Youre threatening me? Gwen snarled.
No, Im not. I am threatening. Get out! Claire ordered.
Mike and I shut the gate, keeping the uninvited out. Gwen and Tom had no choice but to drive back home, where they proceeded to berate each other in the car.
On the way home they argued fiercely, shouting about who should have pushed the other aside. When they finally arrived, they found their mother, Evelyn Harper, still living with thema woman who hadnt spoken to her son since his wedding five years earlier.
Now Ill stop speaking to Mike too, Gwen declared, tossing her coat onto the chair.
What? Evelyn asked, squinting.
Youve driven us out of the cottage. Can you imagine? And his wifeshe wanted to call the police as if we were thieves!
Thats why I dont see him, Evelyn muttered. Remember when I tried to move in with them and they said there was no room? They pretended the flat was too small for us and the kids!
Dont talk, Mum! That Claire has ruined our Mike completely, Gwen complained.
The children continued to play noisily, while Gwen and Evelyn sipped champagne and watched *The Holiday* on TV, oblivious to the chaos in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Claire and Mike welcomed the remaining guests and prepared for the countdown. Laughter filled the hall, and as the clock neared midnight, Claire slipped away from the crowd and whispered to Mike.
I have something to tell you, she said, handing him an ultrasound photograph.
Seriously? Mike looked stunned. Were having a baby?
Yes, Claire beamed.
Mike pulled her into a warm embrace and kissed her softly. Thats the best New Years present ever, he said, smiling.
Looking back, I realise that family ties can tangle like the roots of an old oak, but the strength of a relationship lies in deciding which branches to prune and which to nurture. Today taught me that clear boundaries and honest communication are the true foundations for a peaceful life.
