It all unfurled on a Wednesday evening when my father messaged the family group chat, demanding we gather on Sundayno excuses.
He insisted it was urgent.
That it was something important and every single one of us had to be there.
Naturally, my mind took a dive for the worst.
My sister and brother didnt think any lighter.
We called each otherthoughts circling the same dark drain: illness, diagnosis, something dreadful.
Dad never calls family meetings. Ever.
Even Aunt Mabel travelled in from Leeds, convinced this would be some sort of farewell, or, God forbid, a will reading.
We all arrived shaken, throats tight, hands clammy from the tension.
When we saw him there in the sitting room, a grave mask on his face, not a word was breathed.
Mumdivorced years, but still turned upwatched him, her brow furrowed.
He started with phrases like:
Were living in difficult times
Life takes its turns
Sometimes we have to make brave decisions
He dragged each word out, as if about to tell us something that would shatter us to pieces.
My mouth was dry, locked shut.
We braced for disaster.
But then he said:
I need some financial help for a while.
Time froze.
Then he added:
To start a project with my partner.
We assumed he meant business partner.
Until he made it painfully clear, full of newfound candour:
With my girlfriend.
A woman hed met just six months ago.
Nearly my age.
A chill swept the room.
My sister swallowed, her Adams apple bobbing.
Mum sat there, unmoving.
All thoughts of hospitals and loss vanished.
All that remained was utter indignation.
He continued: this girl had dreams, he wanted to support her, they needed money to open a little café.
And since hed always been there for us, now he expected us to be there for him.
Rage flared inside me.
Bright and sharp.
Because he hadnt always been there, not in the way he told it.
Never paid his full maintenance.
Never came to school plays.
Never rang to see if there was bread in the house.
But nownowhe wanted us to bankroll his image for his new, young lady.
My brother told him that if he wanted to keep a young woman, hed best work harder.
It wasnt our job to underwrite his whims.
Dad took offence.
He insisted it was love, not indulgence.
My sister nearly laughed out loud.
I stayed silent, knowing if I spoke, Id say things I might never be able to take back.
He pressed on about this family loan, but wouldnt put anything in writingdidnt want to erode trust.
No one agreed.
He stood up, stormed out, called us ungrateful, accused us of being incapable of support, said this is how families come apart.
Mum just replied quietly,
Families come apart when someone stops playing their part.
He slammed the door behind him.
His new girlfriend even messaged me on WhatsApp:
I never knew what love was until I met him.
Can you imagine.
I didnt reply.
Since that day, hes not spoken to us.
Blocked my brothers.
And sent me a separate message saying he expected better from me.
I dont know if I did right or wrong.
But I know this:
If he wants to dazzle his young girlfriend
he can do it with his own money, not ours.
