The intercom didnt just buzzit roared, demanding attention. I glanced at the clock: seven in the morning, Saturday. The only day Id planned to sleep in after slogging through quarterly reports, not host unwanted guests. On the tiny video screen, my sister-in-laws face glared back at me. Claire, my husband Edwards sister, looked ready to storm the Tower of London, while three unruly heads bobbed behind her.
Edward! I barked without picking up the receiver. Your lot. You handle it.
He stumbled out of the bedroom, yanking mismatched shorts on backwards. He knew my tone: my tolerance for his family had hit rock bottom. While he fumbled an awkward greeting into the speaker, I stood, arms folded, steeling myself. My flatmy rules. That three-bedroom Id bought in Central London, two years before we even got married, purchased with my own sweat and endless evenings at the firmI didnt want strangers tramping about.
The door burst open. My pristine hallway, scented with Jo Malone reed diffusers, was flooded by the circus. Claire, laden with bags, didnt so much as greet me; she shoved past me like I was a side table.
Oh, thank heavens, we finally made it! she said, dumping bags squarely onto my Italian tiles. Alice, what are you standing there for? Put the kettle onthese children are starving after the journey.
Claire, my voice was steady, but Edward shrank into himself, knowing hell awaited him later. What exactly is going on?
Edward didnt tell you? she feigned wide-eyed innocence. Weve got builders in! Proper refurbpipes, floorboards, the works. The dust is terrible. We just need to crash here for a week. You and Edward cant possibly use all these rooms as it is.
I looked at my husband. He was suddenly fascinated by the ceiling, aware his evening would not be pleasant.
Edward?
Alice, honestly, its just Clairewhere else can they go with all that mess at hers? Just a week, I promise.
A week, I repeated, cold and precise. Exactly seven days. You buy your own food. The kids dont run wild, no fingerprints on the walls, and no one goes near my study. Quiet after ten, non-negotiable.
Claire rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh. Youre a real warden, Alice. Fine. Where are we sleeping? Please dont say on the floor!
And so, the nightmare began.
One week stretched to two. Then three. The flat that Id painstakingly styled with an interior designer began resembling a barn. The hallway was always piled high with dirty trainers Id trip over. The kitchen chaos was constant: greasy smears on the quartz, crumbs everywhere, sticky patches on the floor. Claire treated the flat as her manor, and me like a maid.
Alice, why is the fridge empty? she breezed in one evening, inspecting the barren shelves. Children need their yogurts. And Edward and I could really do with some decent meat. You do well for yourselfyou could look after family.
Youve got a bank card and shops, I replied, not looking up from my laptop. Go on then. Supermarkets deliver all night.
Stingy, she muttered, slamming the fridge so hard the bottles rattled. Cant take it with you, you know.
But that wasnt even the turning point. The day I came home early, I found my niece and nephew in my bedroom. The older one was bouncing on my orthopaedic mattressone that cost as much as a small carwhile the younger was scribbling on my wall with my Tom Ford lipstick. Limited edition.
OUT! I roared, sending them scattering.
The commotion brought Claire running. She surveyed the lipstick-decorated wallpaper and the battered lipstick with a shrug.
What are you making a fuss about? Theyre just kids! A line on the wallso what? Youll scrub it off. As for your lipstickhonestly, its just makeup. Buy yourself another, you can afford it. Anyway, guess what? The builders are taking agesthe lot are proper cowboys. Looks like well be here till summer. You and Edward need a bit of fun around here!
Edward stood at my side, mute as ever. Useless.
I said nothing. I retreated to the bathroom, holding in the urge to commit a major crime.
That evening, while Claire was in the shower, she abandoned her phone on the kitchen counter. It flashed with a huge notification. I didnt normally snoop, but the message was massive, right on the locked screen, from Linda Lettings:
Claire, sent next months rent. Tenants say theyd love to extend until August.
And right after: Deposit received: +£800.
That was it. The penny dropped, everything clear as day. There was no building work. That brazen opportunist had let out her own shoebox for cashshort-term or long-term, who caredthen moved in here to sponge off me, free food, no bills, while the rent cash kept rolling in. Brilliant little business plan. At my expense.
I took a photo of her phone. My hand was steady. In fact, I felt deliciously calm.
Edward, come here a second, I called.
He came, and I showed him the photo. His face drained, then went red.
Alice, maybe its a misunderstanding?
The only mistake here, I said coldly, is that you didnt send them packing sooner. You have a choice. Either theyre gone by lunchtime tomorrow, or youre leaving with them. Your mother, your sister, your whole travelling circus.
But where will they go?
I couldnt care less. Sleep under a bridge, or at The Ritz if she can stretch her lettings money that far.
The next morning, Claire breezed in, chirping about shopping and some fabulous boots shed found (clearly using my food saving for wardrobe funds). She dumped the children on Edwardhed called in sick.
I waited until her footsteps faded down the stairwell.
Edward, take the kids for a long walk in the park.
Why?
Because the flats getting fumigated. For parasites.
When they were gone, I pulled out my phone. First, I rang an emergency locksmith. Then, the local constable.
No more Mrs Nice Host. Time to reclaim my flat.
Alice, maybe its a mistake? Edwards words echoed, as I watched the locksmith dismantling the lock.
No mistake. Just cold, precise action.
The tradesman, a burly bloke with tattoos, nodded approval.
This is a beast of a lock. No ones getting in without an angle grinder.
Thats the point. I want security.
I transferred him a sum that would have paid for a nice meal out, but peace of mind was priceless. Then I got to work on their belongings. No sentiment. I grabbed the strongest black bin bags you could buy120 litres eachand stuffed them: Claires bras, childrens tights, toys, the detritus spread from room to room. No folding. Just shoving. Her cosmeticssprawled across my bathroom shelfwere gone in one sweep.
Forty minutes later, the landing was stacked with five bulging black bags, plus two lonely suitcases.
The lift dinged, and I opened the door to the officer.
Morning, officer, I handed over the property deed and my passport. Im the sole owner. Im the only one registered here. In half an hour, some people will try to force their way in. They dont live here, and have no claim. Id like you to record any attempt at unlawful entry.
He, a young man with weary eyes, leafed through my papers.
Family?
Ex-family, I grinned. Were having a little domesticescalated to a property dispute.
An hour later, Claire swept out of the lift, arms loaded with Selfridges bags, positively radiant. Her smile vanished when she clocked the bin bags and me, flanked by the constable.
What the hell is all this? she screeched, jabbing a finger at the bags. Alice, have you lost your mind? These are my things!
Exactly, I folded my arms. Your things. Take them and leave. The hotels closed.
She tried to dart past me, but the officer blocked her.
Miss, do you live here? Do you have registration?
Im Im Edwards sister! Were guests! Her face turned furious blotchy red as she glared at me. Whats this all about, you cow? Wheres Edward? Ill phone him right now, just see what youve done!
By all means, I said mildly. But he wont answer; hes explaining to his children why their mother has such enterprising instincts.
She tried. Ring, ring, cut off. Edward, it seemed, had finally found a backboneor simply feared a divorce that would leave him with nothing.
You cant do this! Claire shrieked, dumping her bags, a shoebox of new shoes tumbling out. Weve got nowhere! The buildersmy kids!
Stop lying, I advanced, voice chilly. Say hello to Linda for me. Ask her if your tenants will be staying through August, or if youll be turfing them out to move in yourself?
Claire gaped, breath leaving her like a punctured balloon.
How how did you?
You should really lock your phone, you budding businesswoman. A month at my expense, ruining my home, flogging your flat to buy yourself a car? Nice little earner. But heres how it goes.
My voice dropped, each word slicing the air: You grab the bags and you go. If I see you or your kids within a mile of my home, Ill report you to HMRC for tax evasion on your little letting scheme. And, oh, I could swear my gold rings missing. Want the police to search the bags to find it?
Of course, my ring was safely in the safe. But Claire didnt know that. Her face ghosted white, foundation turning chalky.
Youre vile, Alice, she spat. God will judge you.
Gods busy, I said dryly. But my flat is free. And so am I.
She grabbed the bags, cursing under her breath, jabbing at her phone for a taxi with a trembling hand. The constable watched, bored, clearly glad he wouldnt need to file a report.
As the lift doors shut on Claire, her luggage, and her ruined little plot, I turned to the officer.
Thank you for your help.
Anytime, he shrugged. But invest in a good lock next time.
Back inside, I shut the door. The new lock clicked, deep and satisfying. The faint smell of bleach lingeredthe cleaning team had already wiped the kitchen clean and were tackling the bedroom.
Edward returned two hours later. Alone. Hed dropped the kids to Claire by the kerb as she loaded into her taxi. He entered nervously, peering round as if expecting a trap.
Alice Shes gone.
I know.
She shouted all sorts about you
I dont care what the rats say as you force them off a sinking ship.
I sat in my kitchen, sipping fresh coffee from my favourite, unbroken mug. The lipstick artwork had been scrubbed from the wall. The fridge now contained only my own groceries.
Did you know about her letting the flat? I asked, not looking at him.
No! Honestly, Alice, I swearif Id known
If youd known, youd have kept quiet. I stated. Listen up. This is the last time. One more stunt from your family and your suitcase will be out there with theirs. Understand me?
He nodded hastily, fearfullyhe knew I never bluffed.
I took another sip of coffee.
It was perfect.
Hot, strong, and, best of all, enjoyed in the blissful silence of my own home.
The crown doesnt pinch.
It fits me just right.
