I still recall the day when Father declared, If youve bought a flat for your eldest daughter, why not move in with her? It was a sharp remark that set the whole Bennett household into motion.
Mabel stood in the doorway of our parents terraced house in Birmingham, clutching a bulky canvas bag. May I come in? I need to speak, she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Come in, but take off your shoes gently; Ive just polished the floor, Mother, Elizabeth, replied, stepping aside. Your brother Fred is home, reading the paper.
The kitchen smelled of roast potatoes and pork cutlets. Fred, the younger son, was due back from a long haul on the motorway, and Mother always kept his favourite meal ready.
Mabel slipped into the living room, exhaled, and dropped onto the settee. The waistband of her loose dress was already stretched tight over her belly.
Your legs are swelling again? Father, John, asked, setting his newspaper aside. Maybe you should see a doctor.
Its fine, Dad. First time, perhaps? Mabel adjusted the cushion behind her. Listen, theres something I wanted to discuss She hesitated. I have an idea about the flat.
What flat? Mother entered with a steaming mug of tea for Mabel.
Yours, Mabel sipped the tea. You and Fred have enough space here, dont you? He could stay in one room, you in the other. If you sold the twobed flat you own, you could buy a onebed flat
Will you give us the difference? a teasing voice called from the hall. Fred leaned against the doorway, still in his companys navy work jacket. I see you havent lost any time, sister.
Fred, are you back yet? Mother asked, stirring the tea. Ill heat something up
Later, he waved her off, eyes still on Mabel. First we hear what this plan is.
Fred, why do you always jump in? Mabel frowned. Im talking about something sensible. You could both manage in a onebed flat
Who would find that more convenient? Fred stalked into the room, thudding his heavy bag onto the floor. Me, living with my parents in a onebed flat? Or you, with our money?
Son, dont shout, Father warned, trying to calm him. Lets discuss this calmly.
Whats there to discuss? Fred paced. Five years ago we sold the cottage, gave it to Mom. Now you want to sell the flat too? You know what? Ill say it straight you bought a flat for your eldest, and now you expect us to move in with you.
My third child is on the way! Mabel raised her voice. We need more space! The twobed is already cramped!
And what am I to do? Fred turned sharply to his sister. Im thirtytwo and still have no place of my own, because all the familys money has gone into your threebed flat!
Exactly, Mabel snapped. Because I finally achieved something. I have a decent husband, a business, children, a flat
A decent husband? Fred laughed. The one whose shops keep closing one after another? The whole town knows that your Paul is deep in debt.
Mabels face went pale.
What are you talking about?
Stop pretending, sister. Im a longhaul driver; Im on the road across the county all the time. Do you know how many rumours circulate? Two shops in the neighbouring town have already closed, three here are barely hanging on. Suppliers withhold stock because the old debts havent been paid. Thats why you think you need Mum and Dads money.
A heavy silence fell. Mother glanced fearfully between her children.
Mabel, tell us that isnt true, John urged. It cant be.
Mabel sank on the settee, her eyes wet. I didnt want to tell you Paul really is in trouble. Serious trouble. The shops are losing money; two have closed. Suppliers are demanding the debts be repaid. If we dont find cash quickly
And you decided to leave us homeless? Fred shook his head. So we all cram into a onebed while you try to cover Pauls debts?
What am I to do? Mabels voice cracked. Her eyes reddened. I have two little ones, a third on the way! We could lose everything!
Fix your problems yourself! Fred shouted. Stop leeching off Mum and Dad! They gave you everything the cottage, the savings and now you want the last of it?
Youre just jealous, Mabel snapped, nearly overturning her tea. Jealous that I managed to marry a respectable man, unlike you Who are you, a lorry driver?
Yes, you got lucky, Fred sneered. Now you want to loot Mum and Dad. Why not just take them in? Since theyve given you everything the cottage, the cash let them live with you!
What? Mabel recoiled. No! I have my own family, little children
So youll borrow from them but never help? Fred snarled. All you do is tug.
You dont understand anything! Mabels hands shook as she clutched her bag. Our problems Paul could lose everything!
So were to be left roofless? Fred stepped toward her. Get out of here. Stop milking Mum and Dad. Sort your own mess.
Mabel slammed the door, rattling the glass in the sideboard. Mother sank into a chair, covering her face.
Why are you so harsh on your sister? Shes pregnant
And what about her? Fred said, rubbing his neck after a long drive. You see, she doesnt care about you. All she wants is to pull the money out.
But her situation is genuine
And ours isnt? he gestured at the peeling wallpaper and cracked window frames. Dad, youre a year from retirement. Mum, your blood pressure spikes. She wants you both to move to a new estate far from the health centre
Perhaps shell change her mind, John whispered.
Mabel never did. For a week she vanished, ignoring her parents calls. Then, unexpectedly, Paul turned up at the door.
Fred was about to leave for a new route when the knock came. Paul stood there, shuffling in a rumpled suit, eyes hollow.
May I come in? his voice was hoarse. I need to speak.
Mother led him to the kitchen in silence. Fred tried to go, but John stopped him.
Sit down, son. Listen. This concerns the whole family.
Paul sat, twisting a cold cup of tea. After a long pause he spoke.
Im here to apologise to you, to Mabel. We never should have dragged you into this.
What happened? Mother asked softly.
Its all gone to pot, Paul muttered with a weak grin. Yesterday the last shop shut. Creditors came, took the stock, the equipment, the lorry. I thought I could sort it out, borrowing more, borrowing more Mabel trusted me, so she came to you, hoping youd sell the flat
And you thought of Mum and Dad? Fred snapped. Asking the pensioners for their last penny?
Youre right, Paul lifted his eyes. I overreached. I tried to play the big businessman, racked up credit, and when it collapsed I had nothing left. Im ashamed to look you in the eye.
Hows Mabel? Mother worried.
She cries all the time. She says she doesnt know how to go on. Shes embarrassed to come back after that conversation. You know how proud she is
Are you managing at all? The children are still small
Were trying, Paul said. Ive taken a job as a freight coordinator for a wholesale firm. Mabel will work as a shoppingcentre administrator once shes out of labour. Well live like everyone else. Just please forgive us.
When Paul left, a weighty silence settled over the kitchen. Fred stared out at the grey autumnal yard, thoughts of his sister swirling. How much she had changed over the years from a lively girl to an arrogant, wealthy wife and now here she was.
You did the right thing not to let us sell the flat, John said suddenly. We always indulged Mabel, forgave her. And now
A month later Mabel appeared on the doorstep, thinner, her belly still pronounced, dressed plainly, without jewellery or makeup. She collapsed on the hallway floor and sobbed.
Forgive me, she whispered. You did so much for me, and I
Mother rushed to her.
Enough, she said gently. Youll pull through.
Fred looked at his sister, hardly recognising the woman who had once been so proud. She sat, unadorned, in worn shoes.
Alright, he said finally. Lets move on. Youll live like everyone else, without pretence.
Thank you, Mabels eyes, still red, met his. For not selling the flat then. You were right we must fend for ourselves.
That evening they all sat together in the kitchen. Mabel recounted how everything collapsed first one shop, then another. How Paul ran around the county seeking cash. How she lay awake at night, wondering what to do.
I thought we were the best, she confessed to her brother. That having money made us special. But now Paul is delivering freight, Ill soon start at the centre, just like any ordinary folk.
Good, Fred replied. Theres nothing terrifying about that. I keep turning the wheel on the road, and Im content.
A year later their third child, a boy, was born. Paul continued his coordinator job, often away but always returning with groceries. Mabel took a remote copywriting gig, quickly mastering it and even winning a quarterly award.
One evening Fred stopped by after a long haul. Mabel was bustling with the children in the kitchen.
Ah, brother, come in, Ill pour you some soup.
Just a minute, he said, pulling a bag of sweets and toys from his satchel. The older children shrieked and raced to him.
You always spoil them, Mabel laughed.
And why not? Fred tossed a biscuit to his nephew. Theyre good lads.
Later, after the children retired to their rooms, Mabel poured Fred a cup of tea.
Ive wanted to ask you something, she began. You know the firm Transoil? Pauls been offered a move there with a higher salary.
Thats a solid company, Fred nodded. I work with them often. They pay on time.
Ive been urging him to accept. Hes scared of change after his own business fell.
After his own business? Fred chuckled. Makes sense. But the pays decent.
Mabel fell silent, then said, I walked past our old shops the other day. Theyre now an pharmacy chain. Its oddly comforting, as if that life belongs to another era.
Exactly, Fred sipped his tea. Youre making a decent life now. Work, children, a roof over your heads.
The next day Fred visited his parents. John was still reading the paper, Elizabeth tending to seedlings on the windowsill.
Fred, have a seat, John said, setting the paper down. Elizabeth and I have been talking
No preamble, dad, Fred replied.
In short, weve decided to give you some money for a deposit on a mortgage. Weve saved a little.
What? Youre giving me money? Fred stood, surprised. From our own savings?
Dont argue with your father, Elizabeth interjected. We see how hard youve been saving. Now that your pension is coming in
No, Ill manage on my own, Fred shook his head. Keep the money.
We know how you cope, John growled. You take extra routes, work to the bone. Take it, dont argue. Youve always been our rock.
Fred hesitated, then thought of the endless renting hed endured. He accepted.
Two weeks later he found a modest onebed flat, not in the city centre but close to his depot. His parents contributed the first instalment; the rest went on a mortgage.
Now you have your own corner, Elizabeth said, helping him move boxes. No more endless rentals.
Its all right, Mum, he replied. Ive got it sorted.
Mabel arrived with curtains and pots.
Its from us, a housewarming gift, she said.
Ive got everything, Fred answered.
Take what you need, she urged, arranging dishes. You know, Ive thought you were right to shout at me. I was being arrogant, always demanding
Well forget it, Fred waved. What matters is youve learned.
That night, after everyone had gone, Fred sat in his new kitchen, the kettle whistling, the city humming beyond the window. He smiled to himself he had finally bought a flat, patched things up with his sister, and his parents remained in their cosy twobed.
On weekends he still swung by their house, delivering groceries, helping with chores. Elizabeth would always push a tin of meat pies his way.
Take it, love, shed say. I know you dont cook much.
Dont worry, Mum, I manage.
And that was enough. Children were nearby, Mabels life was steady, and Freds own little haven stood firm. Life, at last, had settled into a gentle rhythm.
