Youre a real find!
Again? Listen, Emily, who was she really having that baby for? For herself or for us? I finish a long shift, I just want a decent supper, a moment to unwind, a bit of time with you, and instead Im forced to watch over someone elses child!
He isnt exactly a stranger, Emily shivered and let out a sigh. Honestly, Im not keen on it either. But Claire asked she needs her nails trimmed, and you cant take a toddler into the salon.
Charles fidgeted with his jacket, unbuttoned it and flung it onto the chair. Hed have to feed his nephew, and doing it in his workday clothes was far more practical. The odds of splattering baby mush on his shirt were a certainty.
I get it, I really do, I told him, but you cant skip the manicure, can you? Are you the only one she can rely on? Why does our family feel more like a nursery?
Theres Mum, of course, but she cant be on call every day, Emily snapped, pulling a packet of spaghetti from the cupboard.
And you, apparently, can, Charles cut in. You can do everything for everyone except yourself and me.
He first frowned, then exhaled and relaxed a little. His expression softened: his wife wasnt an enemy, just a relentless helper.
Emily, if you dont cut her loose from your life, shell keep hanging around, and youll be the one to blame the one who pulled the cart must drive it.
Emily pretended to be wholly absorbed in cooking, yet inside she knew her husband was right. She didnt know how to live with it: she didnt want to be a second mother to her nephew, but she also didnt want to quarrel with the family.
It all started innocently.
Emily, Im down with a cold and little Tom is in my arms. I need to pop to the chemist, but I cant leave the child alone. I wont make it on my own. Please help.
Without a second thought Emily leapt to the rescue, not even considering the delivery. Her sister was ill, perhaps badly, and needed saving.
Soon rescuing became habit.
Need to pick up the phone from the repair shop? Claires calling. Out of groceries? Emilys on it again. Parcel arrived at the collection point? Emily darts off like a personal courier.
Emily could afford such feats because she worked from home on a flexible schedule, so she could slip away. That didnt mean it was convenient. Fifteen minutes to Claires flat, plus the roundtrip, the queue, the waiting and the little things of life ate up at least an hour.
Now Emily works mostly evenings and sometimes nights, when the flat is quiet. Her husband, of course, isnt thrilled, and neither is she. She tried to speak with her sister.
Claire, hows it going with Jack? He doesnt help much? Emily asked gently, handing over another parcel from Sainsburys Market.
He does help, Claire replied. Hes just tired after work. God willing hell sit with the little one while I jump in the shower, the rest falls to me.
Claire looked after her own husband, but she never thought of anyone else not of you, Emily. Emily snorted and fell silent.
And his mother? She lives nearby.
Dont remind me! Claire rolled her eyes. Ive had enough of that toad. When she turns up its a headache till dusk. She isnt a woman, shes a wellspring of unwanted advice. Id rather starve than ask her for anything.
Is there nobody else? Oxana also has a tot, about the same age as yours. Could you two swap one watches, the other runs errands? Or Rose, who doesnt work at all.
I feel uncomfortable leaning on strangers, Claire admitted. Theyre not obliged.
Leaning on your own is easy, Emily sighed.
After that, she decided to refuse her sister. Even before any hint from her husband, Emily knew it shouldnt be that way.
The chance came quickly: the next day Claire called, saying shed booked a slot at the nail salon.
Emily, come over, mind the little one for an hour.
The tone was command, not request. It infuriated Emily: why should she rearrange her plans just so Claire could have her nails done?
No, Claire, I cant today. Sorry.
What do you mean you cant?
I cant solve all your problems. I have a life of my own.
I understand, but what now? I have no one else. Ive already booked, I cant let someone down. Shes temperamental; she wont forgive me.
Claire, you didnt run this by me before you booked. Im not a fledgling girl or a motherhen. Sort it out yourself.
Fine, Claire snapped, hurt. Its easy for you to say youve no children. You dont know how hard it is.
She knew the nephew was gradually becoming her son, but Emily kept quiet. She was nonconfrontational, and even that refusal felt like a feat.
Claire didnt give up; she called their mother.
Emily, how can you? Our sister has a child and you turn her down! Shes alone! Who will help her if not us?
Mum, when she asked me to fetch medicines I went because it mattered. Now she calls daily about trivial things. Today she even booked a salon! Does it have to be that urgent? She just wants to look pretty, like any woman. Understand her.
Emily raised an eyebrow. No one had ever seen things from her side.
Mum, if youre so wise, help her.
I? Mother exclaimed. I can barely stand on my own two feet! Youre young, its easier for you.
Young, childless, still at home Ive heard those a thousand times. I was fed up. That day I stood my ground and didnt swoop in for my sister.
In retaliation they gave her the silent treatment: for a week mother and Claire acted as if she didnt exist. Others might have taken it calmly, but not Emily. She could find no place for herself and kept wondering how to mend the family bond.
A week later Claire called again, asking for a sitter while she did her manicure. Emily agreed, though she despised herself for it. She was choosing between exile from the family and endurance.
Emily, youre soft one moment, harsh the next, her husband said after hearing. Watch yourself, or shell never back off.
Emily sighed, nodded. Late at night she pondered how to decline without causing a rift.
As expected, the phone rang at midday.
Emily, I cant cope any longer. The babys got a fever, hes been crying since dawn, and Im running round like a hamster on a wheel! No chance to sit, no chance for the loo. Come over, even four of us could manage.
I cant, Ive work. Were under strict monitoring now the programmes track our activity, even lunch cant be skipped. Its like an office.
Silence on the line. Claire seemed to be searching for a weak spot.
Please! Just once, the last time! Ask anyone to cover you or take a day off.
Emily had no choice. She pretended to acquiesce.
Alright, Ill think of something.
She hung up and messaged Jack, asking for his motherinlaws number. Jack didnt refuse, and the motherinlaw agreed to pop over to Claires.
Emily knew exactly when the motherinlaw would arrive; the messages kept coming.
Whats this, youve gone off the rails?! Claire typed. Why did you drag her onto me?
You needed help. I called her, Emily replied, as if nothing had happened. I cant come myself, you know that.
Claire read it but didnt answer. Emily felt a small, private triumph. Claire would keep fussing, Mum would probably be cross again, but now the sister would have to fend for herself or learn to seek aid from those truly willing to help.
