If you dont care for it, you can show yourselves out, declared Judith to her uninvited guests.
For thirty years, Judith lived quietly. If her husband made a request, she nodded. When her mother-in-law dropped in unannounced, Judith would put the kettle on without a word. Her sister-in-law once arrived with bags in tow and was settled in the box bedroom. Just for a couple of nights, promised the sister-in-law. She stayed for three months.
What was she to do? Cause a scene, and everyone would think her an ungrateful wife. Refuse, and shed be deemed heartless. Judith learned to endure and even trained herself not to notice how her own life turned, bit by bit, into a service for others wants.
Her husband, George Wilkinson, was a plain sort. He worked as a building foreman, loved a gathering with pints and long-winded toasts to friendship interspersed with complaints about the boss. He called Judith my little housekeeper and never quite understood why she cried quietly in the night. If youre tiredget some rest. If family come to stayput on a spread. It was simple.
When he died, Judith was left alone in a three-bedroom flat on Barkley Crescent. The wake was as they ought to be: tables laid, whisky poured, speeches declaring what a grand fellow he was. The family descended, lamented, then dispersed. Judith thought, Well, at least now I might find some peace.
But of course, it wasnt to be.
A week later, her sister-in-law, Victoria, rang:
Judith, Ill be by tomorrow. Bringing a few bits from shopping.
I dont need anything, Victoria.
Oh, dont be so distant! Id not turn up empty-handed.
Victoria arrived with two bags of pasta and one demand: that her son, Christopher, be allowed to stay while hes prepping for uni in London. Judith tried careful protest:
But surely his accommodation will be sorted?
Thats ages away yet! Wheres he meant to go in the meantimesleep on the street?
Judith relented. Christopher settled in the box room and lived untidilysocks abandoned in the hall, plates stacked in the sink, music blaring until midnight. Never actually got into university, mind you. Instead, he found a job as a bike courier and treated Judiths flat as somewhat of a depot.
Chris, do you think you might move out soon? Judith asked gingerly after a month.
Aunt Jude, where am I supposed to go? Cant afford rent anywhere!
And two weeks after that, Georges daughter from his first marriage, Lynette, arrived. She brought with her an ancient grudge and a heap of complaints:
Dad left you the flat, and what about me? Im his daughter too, you know!
Judith stammered. The flat had been registered in Georges name and now rightfully fell to her. All above board. But Lynette looked at Judith as though she were a thief.
Do you even understand what Im going through? Lynette carried on. Im on my own with a child, renting!
Judith tried to explain that the flat was her only home, she hadnt got much money and honestly didnt know how she would go on. Lynette wasnt interested. Shed not come for understandingshe was after justice.
And so it began.
Relatives started turning up more and more. Sometimes her mother-in-law with adviceSell up and get something smaller. Sometimes Victoria, arriving with yet another nephew. Sometimes Lynettearmed with new demands.
At every visit, Judith made up the tea tray, set the table and quietly endured their complaints.
One day, they stopped tiptoeing around the real subject.
Judith, why do you need three bedrooms all to yourself? Victoria said, sipping her tea. Sell, get a one-bed. Help the children out with the money, eh?
What children? Judith asked innocently.
Well, Lynette. Christopher. Lifes difficult for them, you know.
Judith looked from Victoria to Lynette to her mother-in-law. Suddenly she saw what was going on: they hadnt come to comforttheyd come to divide.
If you dont like it, she said quietly, you can all leave.
The silence was heavy.
What did you say? Victoria asked, slowly, as if doubting her hearing.
I said, you can all leave, Judith repeated, louder this time. Get out of my home.
All eyes were on her as though shed started speaking gibberishor started swearing.
Who do you think you are! Victoria spluttered. Were family!
Are we now? whispered Judith. You come round only when theres food on the table, or when you want a go at the telly?
Victoria appealed to Judiths mother-in-law: Mother, are you hearing this? I always said she was a stuck-up little madam!
Her mother-in-law sat in silence. Always did, reallywatchful, quiet, sighing, and everyone knew: Judith the ungrateful was playing up again.
Mrs Wilkinson, Judith addressed her, you spent thirty years telling me how to live. How to keep George happy. How to lay a proper table. And when I cried at night, do you remember what youd say? Just put up with it. All women have to put up with it. Do you recall?
Her mother-in-law pursed her lips.
Well, I did put up with it. But now, its over. My patience is finished. Like a packet of butterits run out.
Victoria seized her bag.
Ill tell Christopher about this! He ought to know what youre really like!
Do. And take him with you when you go. Tomorrow. Or Ill put his stuff in the hall myself.
They left, slamming the door so hard the chandelier rattled. Judith stood by the kitchen, hands shaking, heart pounding. She poured herself a glass of water, draining it in one go.
And thought, Lord, what have I done?
And then, Actually, what have I done thats so terrible? Chased out people who only ever came for themselves?
That night, she lay sleepless for hours, staring at the ceiling while thoughts tumbled through her head, each turning over and over like wet laundrywhat if they were right? Was she cruel, selfish? Maybe she ought to have just kept swallowing it down?
But by morning everything seemed sharply, simply clear, like the first snow. Patience is for the temporary. Shed endured thirty years. Thats not patience. Thats surrender.
Christopher moved out two days later. Victoria came for him, stiff as a plank, never once meeting Judiths eyes. Christopher grumbled about grumpy old cows as he packed. Judith just stood in the hallway without saying a word. Once, she wouldve wept, tried to apologise, plead. Now, she stood silent.
A week later, Lynette phoned:
Mum and I have been having a think, she started, careful now.
Which mum? Judith cut her off. Your mother passed away in 92. Mrs Wilkinson is my mother-in-law. Former.
There was a pause. Lynette hadnt seen that coming.
Well, lookit doesnt do us any good to argue. You know father loved you.
He did, Judith agreed. In his own way. The flats in my name now. Rightfully. I dont owe anyone anything.
But for fairness
Fairness? Judith let out a wry chuckle. Lynette, fairness would be if any of you had ever once, in thirty years, remembered my birthday. Or called just to chat, not to ask for money. That would have been fairness.
Youve grown bitter, Lynette said coldly. Solitude has soured you.
No. Ive stopped pretending.
The weeks passed, slow as molasses. Judith went to her jobshe worked as a healthcare assistant at the local hospitalcame home, ate dinner alone. Her neighbour, Mrs Gladys, sometimes popped in with scones.
Judy, how are you? Feeling lonely?
Not lonely.
Family not been round lately?
No, they havent.
And quite right too, said Mrs Gladys, to Judiths astonishment. I always wondered when youd finally stand your ground. Good for you.
Judith smiled. For the first time in agesgenuinely.
The hardest part was not the relatives anger. The hardest part was the silence. Evenings came with no one to greet, no cups of tea to pour. Judith saw it now: her whole life was spent serving others, never for herself.
What now? She had to learn to live for herself. And that, curiously, felt far more daunting than all of Victorias nagging combined.
A month on, Victoria returned. Unannounced. With Christopher, the mother-in-law, and Lynetteall at once, as though staging an invasion.
Judith opened the door to find them on the landing, a whole delegation. Victoria at the front, the others behind her.
Well? said Victoria, Have you come to your senses?
About what? asked Judith.
The flat. Decided to sell yet?
Judith looked from face to face. They really believed she would crack after just a month of solitude, call them back of her own accord.
Come in then, she said, since youve come all this way.
They shuffled through. Settled around the kitchen table. Her mother-in-law went straight to the fridge for a look. Lynette pulled out her mobile and started scrolling. Victoria sat opposite Judith, hands folded primly.
Jude, you really cant keep on here by yourself, Victoria said. The bills, the repairs. Its madness. Why keep all this space?
I rather like the space, Judith said plainly.
But youre on your own!” Lynette piped up, glancing up from her phone. Heres an idea: flog this place, buy a studio out in the suburbs. Youll have £120,000 left over. Give me £40,000 for my daughter and me, £40,000 to Christopherfor his studies. And youll have £40,000 put by for your old age.
Judith said nothing, just looked at Lynetteher confidently-held face, her manicured nails, her designer handbag.
So Im to move to the outskirts of town, so you can all pocket the proceeds? she murmured.
Well, isnt that fair? Lynette cried. Dad spent his life pouring money into this place!
No, Judith whispered. He was given it by the council in 1984 when he was a young worker. But the re-flooring, repaintingall from my wages.
Oh, dont be bloody difficult, Victoria snapped. Were trying to be civil. Were family.
And in that moment, something inside Judith gave way. As if a switch flicked off. Darkness.
Family? she repeated. Where were you all when I was in hospital three years ago? Who visited me then? Victoria, did you come?
Victoria shifted uncomfortably.
I had things on at the time.
And you, Mrs Wilkinson? Judith turned to her mother-in-law. Did you call even once?
Mum-in-law stared out the window.
And Lynette? Did you even know I was laid up in hospital?
No one mentioned it, Lynette muttered.
Indeed. Because none of you cared. Much like now. You arent here for me. Youre here for the flat.
Settle down, Jude, Victoria began.
Im quite settled, Judith replied, curtly. Thats it. Im done. Do you understand?
She got up, went to the door, and opened it.
Out. Now. And dont come back.
Have you no shame? cried Lynette, leaping up. Youre not even proper familyalways an outsider!
Yes, Judith nodded. Thank goodness for that.
Victoria spluttered, grabbing her bag:
George would have never stood for this!
If George were here, Judith replied mildly, hed have made me give inhe always did. But he isnt. So now I decide.
Youll regret this! hissed Lynette. Old, ill, lonelyyoull come crawling to us!
Judith smiled, weary and sad.
You know, Lynette, Im fifty-eight now. I spent thirty years thinking if only I was good enough, someone would love me. That if I gave way, Id be appreciated. Turns out, the more I gave, the more was demanded. No, I shant be crawling to you. Not ever.
They left without another word. Victoria flushed crimson, Mum-in-law pursed up, Lynette slamming the door.
Judith stood in the hall, hands trembling, pulse pounding. She went into the kitchen, sat down, and wept.
Not out of self-pity. From relief.
A week later, Mrs Gladys phoned:
Heard you fell out with the lot of them, Jude?
Not fell outjust told the truth, thats all.
Well done. Listen, Ive got a granddaughter, Katie, shes thirty, left her husband, all alone. Cant settle. Fancy meeting her? Shes a nice girl, hard-working.
Judith agreed. Katie turned out shy, softly-spoken, working as a bookkeeper, renting a room in a shared house. She began coming round for tea; theyd sit and talk for hours.
Would you like to move in? Judith offered, surprising herself. Plenty of space here. Share the bills, thats all.
Katie moved in a month later. Life with a stranger, Judith found, was easy enough if the stranger respected your space, didnt criticise, didnt try to run your life.
Judith joined the local library againthe very same branch where shed worked as a girl. Now she went as a patron, catching up on the novels shed never had time to read.
Sometimes, she thought of the family: Victoria and Christopher, Lynette and her daughter, her mother-in-law. She wondered how they were getting on, but not once was she tempted to ring them.
Six months later, Mrs Gladys reported:
Did you hear? Your Victorias gone to stay with her son Christopher at the halls. She says the countrysides too lonesome.
Well, that ought to suit her, Judith replied.
And Lynettes got herself remarried. Some businessman apparentlythey say shes doing very well.
Good for her.
Mrs Gladys looked closely at Judith.
Doesnt it bother you? That theyre managing without you?
Judith smiled.
Mrs Gladys, they always did. I just never saw it before.
In the evenings, Judith liked to sit by the window. Night fell, street lamps flickered on, neighbours hurried home. Katie tinkered in the kitchen, humming quietly as she made supper.
Judith thought: this, perhaps, is happiness. Not in family approval, but in the gentle power to say noand not be destroyed by guilt.
I wonderhave you ever had to fend off clingy relatives?
