After five years of marriage, my brothers wife remained little more than a shadow in the periphery of our lives, until a peculiar recent visit forced our perceptions to shift. My brother, Charles, had moved to Manchester right after university, promising to return to London within the year, but fate tossed a handful of odd coins his way. He met a woman, they swiftly married like characters in an old folktale, and he stayed in the North for good. Owing to an odd shuffle of events, none of us could attend their weddingonly my mother met his new bride, and even then, she caught only a fleeting glimpse.
The years spun by, each one quietly closing a door, and never once did we journey north to see them. Then, this year, Charles rang to tell us of their winding travels, with a curious little stop scheduled at our place in Croydon, to stretch out over two days. I was strangely hopeful, laying out clean sheets in our narrow flat and, for a flourish, reserving my aunts cottage in Kent, just in case they needed extra space to breathe. But that hopeful feeling fluttered away as soon as I saw my sister-in-law at Heathrow, trailing her suitcase like an anchor behind her. She grumbled bitterly about the flight, picking apart every minute detail as though in a waking dream where nothing is quite as it should be.
When we arrived at the cottage, her discontent was palpable; she eyed the bathroom and loo as if they contained secrets too strange to name. Her steady stream of complaints sent Charles spiralling back into Manchester with her, leaving my husband and me blinking in confusion. Upon her return, she regarded each meal Id crafted as though it might vanish at any moment, turning away from roast and pudding alike. Only plain steamed vegetables touched her lips, even those inspected with a suspicious squint.
As though bewitched, during our wander through the high street the following day, she drifted between the bakery and post office, fussing like a bored, stubborn child caught in a snow globe. I found myself counting the hours, nervously anticipating their departure. It baffles me still, how my brother could have shared half a decade with her; only two days in her company, and her true nature shimmered through the haze, as strange and bewildering as a half-remembered dream.
