Natalie, have you gone quiet on me? Hello? Im telling you, weve booked the train. It gets into London at six on Saturday. Dont oversleep, youll have to pick us upyou know how it is, weve got bags, and Sophies got the twins. Taxis cost a fortune these days, but youve got that big car, youll fit us all in Aunt Gail’s voice thundered down the line, easily drowning out the running bathwater Natalie had turned on.
Taking a breath, Natalie pressed the phone to her ear, frozen in the middle of her new, freshly-painted hallway. Shed barely had the keys to the flat a month. A twenty-year mortgage, three years of pinching every penny, giving up posh coffees and clothes, six months of renovations during which shed learned how to plaster and pick out the best flooring in the shop This was her fortress. Her hard-won, gleaming haven where everything was exactly where she wanted it, not a speck out of place, at last somewhere shed planned to finally spend a quiet weekend entirely alone, gazing at the rooftops through her sweeping bay window.
Hang on, Aunt Gail Natalie found her voice, turned off the tap and went to the kitchen, where her half-drunk peppermint tea still sat. What tickets? What train? What are you talking about? I havent invited anyone.
A heavy pause pressed down the line, thick enough to slice. Then Aunt Gail drew a hissing breath, the warning that always came before a storm.
What do you mean, not invited? Natalie, have you cracked? Look, weve got a reason Uncle Mikes seventy, and he lives here, you know that. The whole familys coming down. We thought, whats the point paying for a hotel when our own niece has a flat in London? Your mum said you got a proper three-bed, all newly done up. So here we come: me, Uncle Colin, Sophie and her husband and the twins. Just the six of us, well make do. Dont fret about spacethrow a mattress on the floor if you have towere not fussy.
Natalie lowered herself onto the high stool in the kitchen, feeling a throb pulse at her temple. Six people. Aunt Gail who snored loud as a tractor and liked to take over in any kitchen. Uncle Colin, who would be swilling cans and then sneak off to smoke on her tiny balconyher prized, glassed-in nook, with an expensive chair shed splurged on. Sophie, her cousin, who thought her two little hurricanes could do anything, from scribbling on the walls to leaping on furnitureand her sour-faced husband Henry, always eating everything in sight.
Aunt Gail Natalie said, keeping her eyes on the ivory-toned cupboards shed scrubbed for hours I just cant. The place isnt ready, the paints barely dry, I havent finished buying furniture. Theres nowhere for you to sleep. And Im working all weekend, Ive got a report to finish.
Oh dont talk nonsense! Aunt Gail shot back. What report? Its the weekend! And dont worry about furniture, well bring our duvets, sleep on the floorwere not precious. Youre not really turning away your own aunt, are you? Who kept you in sweets as a child! Dont forget who bought you that lovely doll for your fifth birthday!
Natalie had heard the doll story every time Aunt Gail wanted a favour. That cheap, battered dollmissing its leg even thenhad grown into a family treasure over the years.
I understand all that, Aunt Gail. But no. The flat is new, Im not up for guests, let alone so many. And Uncle Mikes clear across townyoud be over an hour on the tube from here. Why not get an Airbnb nearby? Ill help you find some, send you links.
Listen to her! Aunt Gail screeched. Shell send links! Look at you, all posh, bought a flat and now youre too good for family! If it wasnt for us, youd never
Aunt Gail Natalie cut across her, a leaden certainty rising inside her Im not too good for anyone. Im telling you, I cant have you to stay. Please dont book anything if youre expecting to stay with me, because I wont open the door.
She thumbed her phone off, not waiting for the next wave of outraged yells. Her hands shook. She knew this was only the beginning. The heavy artillery would follow.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, her mum called.
Natalie, what on earth are you playing at? came the accusation, harsh and hot, no greeting needed. Gail just called in bits, blood pressure through the roof, swigging Rescue Remedy. She says you turned them away!
Mum, all I said is I cant have six of them under my roof. Its all newlight carpets, expensive floorsyou know what Sophies twins are like. Last time, they painted Grandmas cat green and smashed the TV, and Sophie just smiled and said,Theyre just exploring the world. Well, I dont want them exploring my flat, thanks very much.
But Natalie, its family! her mum reasoned in the tone reserved for the simple-minded So what if its noisy for two days? Throw down a tarp, hide the vases, and keep the peace. Gailll have everyone thinking youre heartless. I wont be able to show my face!
Mum, I wont be embarrassed. Why should I sacrifice my comfort and possessions so Aunt Gail can save a hundred-odd quid on a hotel? Theyre coming down for a big do and buying giftssurely they can rent a room!
Selfish, her mum sighed, resigned. Just like your father, always thinking of his own peace and quiet. Youll end up alone in those whitewashed walls, no one to bring you a cup of tea when youre old.
Better make my own tea than scrub family love out of the carpet, Natalie muttered, and hung up.
The rest of the week she barely exhaled; everyone was silent. No calls from Aunt Gail, no angry texts from Sophie. Maybe, she thought, theyd accepted it and sorted somewhere elseor given up coming. She reassured herself: shed set her boundaries. No meant no.
Saturday dawned blissful. She slept in, brewed strong coffee, slipped on her favourite silk robe and wandered into her living room, flooded with golden light. Peace, calm, the air sweet with lilies in a vase by the window. The plan: read her new book, order sushi, perhaps a bubble bath by evening.
At nine, the intercom shrilledinsistent, entitled.
Natalie started, nearly splashing her coffee over the pale wool rug. Heart in her throat, she peered at the screen. There they werea crowd with stuffed tartan bags, Aunt Gails face flushed and furious, Uncle Colin in his battered flat cap, Sophies twins already pressing every button.
Natalie, let us in! Surprise! bellowed Aunt Gail at the mic. Weve lugged ourselves all the way from the station, let us in for a cuppa at least!
Natalie leaned against the wall. They’d come. They’d decided to ignore her answer, to ambush, counting on her not to turn them away face-to-face. She knew this trickmanipulation, pure and simple.
She counted to five, breathed deeply, and pressed the button.
Hello. I already told you, Im not having guests.
Oh come off it! Aunt Gail dismissed with a flicktypical. Dont make a scene. Were family. Let us in, Sophies kids are bursting for the loo, dont be cruel.
Theres a café in the blockfree toilets there, replied Natalie calmly. Im not letting you in.
You what? Aunt Gail almost flattened her nose against the camera lens. You serious? Weve got bags! Were family! Your mum knows were here! Let us in or Ill make a scene for the whole building!
Go ahead, Natalie replied. I texted you hotel addresses, you can read them. Goodbye.
She cut the line and switched the intercom off.
A minute later, the buzzer at her door rang loud and long. Someone must have let them up. Natalies skin went coldthey were now right outside, separated by just a couple of inches of metal.
The ringing became banging.
Natalie! Open up! Have you any shame? Sophie was shrieking. My kids are exhausted! Are you mad?
Let us in, ungrateful wretch! Uncle Colin rumbled. Weve brought presents! Some local cheddar and pickled onions!
Natalie stood in the hallway, arms wrapped round herself. Shame, fear, anger churned inside. She almost unlocked the dooranything to stop this embarrassment, the noise. What must the neighbours think? flashed through her mind. But then she glanced at her spotless floors, imagined all six storming in with muddy shoes, the luggage scratching paintwork, that cloud of cheap perfume and stale beer. She pictured how she would feelviolated in her own home.
No.
She marched to the door and called through, loud and clear,
Im calling the police. If you dont leave now, Ill file a report for harassment and trying to force entry.
Silence fell.
Youll be the death of your poor mother! Aunt Gail began to wail. Calling the police, on your own aunt! May your tongue rot!
Ill count to three, Natalie said, phone in hand. One.
Mum, shes crackers, lets go, Sophie muttered, warily. Shell really do it, well be mortified.
Two.
Sod you then! barked Uncle Colin, with a kick at the door. Choke on your flat! You can rot in here for all I care!
Three.
Scuffling, grumbles, the slap of hands and the wail of a child.
Come on, come on hissed Aunt Gail. My feet will never cross this threshold again! Everyone will know what sort lives here!
Their footsteps grew fainter, echoing down the stairs (no waiting for the lift, then). Natalie slumped to the floor, breath shuddering. Only then did she realise she was shaking.
Sliding to the warm tiles, she buried her face in her hands. Tears spillednot for them, but sheer, crackling stress. Shed done it. Held her own ground.
Her phone rang from the living roomten missed calls from Mum, Aunt Gail, numbers she didnt even recognise (no doubt cousins enlisted for the guilt campaign).
She turned the phone off.
She got herself a glass of water, stood by the window, and watched the little huddle below, loading into a taxi, arms waving and pointing at her building.
Memory prickled: five years ago, back when Natalie was a broke uni student sent to train in Aunt Gails hometown. Shed begged for a sofa for a week till she found temp work. Aunt Gails answer: Sorry darling, dusty with the builders in, Sophies courting, youll have to sort yourself. Natalie spent three nights on the benches at Euston clinging to a rucksack, until an old lady let her a room in exchange for chores.
Family ties hadnt seemed so sacred to Aunt Gail then. Now that Natalie had made it, suddenly they ran deep.
Not this time, Natalie muttered, Not in this life.
She put on soft music, brewed fresh coffee, and settled into her chair. Her day was ruined, but her flat was intact.
That evening, when she switched her phone back on, the barrage began.
Youre dead to us, not part of this family! from Aunt Gail.
How could you do this to your mum, shes got a weak heart! from Sophie.
Im ashamed to have you as a daughter, from her mother this one hurt the most.
Natalie stared. She wanted to explain, to remind them about the nights on the bench, about Aunt Gails past indifference, about her right to her own space. But she realisedthey wouldnt hear her. She was just a resource, newly uncooperative.
She wrote just one message to her mum: I love you, but Im an adult and I live by my own rules. If you want to visit on your own, with notice, Id be happy. But dont use family as leverage. Five years ago, Aunt Gail turned me away in a strange town. Im simply repaying the favour.
No reply came.
A week passed. Natalie went on living in her perfect flat. The neighbours eyed her curiously in the lift, but said nothingAunt Gails show hadnt had its intended effect. One young woman with a Jack Russell winked: Happy housewarming! Good thing youve got solid doors.
A month later, her mum rang. Her voice was dry but calm, inquiring about work, her mortgage. She did not mention Aunt Gail; neither did Natalie.
Family ties were frozen solid. She stopped getting invites to parties, was removed from the main WhatsApp group. But Natalie found her life no poorer for it. No more buying plastic toys for third cousins, hearing about time you settled down, or suffering questions about her pay packet.
Half a year on, nearing Christmas, the bell rang. Natalie peeked out. It was Sophie, alone, hair unbrushed, face red and blotchy.
She opened the door.
Hi, Sophie whispered, Can I come in?
Natalie hesitated, then stepped aside.
Shoes off on the mat.
Sophie crept to the kitchen, perched quietly at the edge of the stool.
Ive left Henry, she blurted out, tears spilling He was drinking, started hitting me. Ive taken the kids to Mums, but Ive nowhere to go. Mum just nags; Aunt Gails told me to stick it out, children need a dad. But I just cant.
Her eyes were bright with despair.
Nat, can I stay? Just a few nights? Ill be no bother, Ill sleep on the floor.
Natalie remembered Sophie from her last visitthe venom, the shouting. Have you no shame!
But today held no threats, no demandsjust a simple, battered plea.
No need for the floor, Natalie sighed, The sofas a pull-out.
Sophie blinked.
Youd have me? After all we did to you?
You can, but there are rules. Natalie poured them both tea First, no kidsthis place isnt set up for them. Second, one week maximum, just while you look for somewhere. Ill help you find an agent. Third, no advice for me, and no running gossip to Aunt Gail. If I find out, youre out.
Thank you, Sophie whispered, Nat, thank you. We were awful. We just we envied you. You got away, made your own home. Were still stuck
Envy rots everything, said Natalie quietly Have your tea. Ill set up the sofa.
Sophie stayed five nightsquiet as a mouse, always tidying, careful even with the rug. After, she found a rented room and left.
That was the turning point. Sophie, glimpsing life with peace, with dignity, began to change. She divorced Henry, found a job, distanced herself from the negativity of her mum and Aunt Gail. She and Natalie now spoke sometimes, even met for films.
Aunt Gail never forgaveor was ever forgiven herself. But Natalie didnt care. Every evening, curled with a novel and a glass of red on her sofa, she gazed out at the sparkling city lights and thought: An Englishmans home is his castle wasnt just a saying. It was a hard-won truth. And to keep her castle a sanctuary, sometimes you have to keep the drawbridge upeven when its family standing on the other side.
