Emily, has Thomas already mentioned it to you? my motherinlaw asked, her voice thick with that familiar London urgency. Listen, well have up to twenty guests, so well have to start preparing this evening. Ill be there early, around six.
What? In the evening? Emily replied, sceptical. No, I never agreed to that.
Hold on, I havent finished, I interjected. Ive already sent Sophie the shopping list; he promised to buy everything.
Thomas had always been the one to look after his older sister, Sophie. By the time she turned thirty shed married twice and divorced twice, each time blaming the wrong bloke. Their mother, Margaret Thompson, had been telling her son since he was a lad:
Help your sister when she needs it.
So Thomas helped. Sometimes with cash when Sophie was temporarily out of work, sometimes with repairs in her rented flat, sometimes with endless trips moving her belongings after yet another split.
Then he got married.
Emily, his wife, put up with it at first. But when Sophie, for the fifth time that year, asked to borrow their car for a few days because it had broken down again, Emily said firmly but gently:
Thomas, isnt that enough? We need the car this weekend too. I thought we had plans
Whats the problem? Walking wont do? Thomas asked.
No, we cant walk to my parents cottage. Theyve put together two buckets of cucumbers for us. I thought you heard me say that.
I did, but you knowSophies situation is urgent.
Again? What exactly?
Im not sure, Thomas muttered, but she needs it more.
No, Thomas. This time its over! Either you refuse your sister, or you buy me a car. Im fed up taking the trolleybus when you could drive me where I need to go.
For the first time Thomas hesitated, about to call Sophie to say no, when Margaret swooped in:
Are you going to ditch your sister for your wife? Shes all you have! Who else will help her?
And Thomas was back at square one, helping despite the fights with his wife. One day they went days without speaking, and Thomas finally snapped:
Whats with the silence? You angry?
Are you serious? It took you three days to work that out? Emily snapped.
I just cant see the pointwhat exactly?
Emily laughed at his confusion:
Really? You dont get it? Your little sister whisked you away for the whole weekend because she had to get to a friends cottage. I thought youd just give her a lift, but you ended up staying two days. Does any of that bother you?
Whats there to worry about? We had a few drinks, her ex was there, I chatted normally. I had to mark the occasion. Why should I have driven like a fool? That would have been ugly.
You could at least have called.
You could have too, Thomas shot back.
I did! Your phone was off. Imagine what I was supposed to think? I was on edge, not knowing where my husband was. And he just decides to take a break from me, Emily vented.
Dont make stuff up, Thomas brushed off, gesturing that his phone was ringing.
He stepped onto the balcony and only there answered. He knew his wife wouldnt appreciate another chat with his sister.
Hey, brother! Sophie chirped through the line. My anniversary is in two weeksthirty years! You get it, right?
Thomas glanced at Emily, who was ladling soup.
So what do you want? he asked.
You get me! I want to celebrate at your place. Youve got a big living room. My rented flat is cramped and the landlord will be on my case. Restaurants are pricey.
How about the cafe? Ill chip in whatever you need.
Youve lost your mind! Sophie retorted. Its an anniversary! You expect me to foot the bill for a venue when you have your own flat? And youll still have to cover it. Im not a millionaires daughter.
Let me talk to Emily first. Its her flat too. Maybe she had other plans.
Its too late! Sophie cut in. Ive already told everyone the partys at yours. Clear the flat for the whole day, okay? Mum says shell sort the food.
Thomas sighed, covering his face with his hand, trying to think of a way out. His phone buzzed againthis time a text from his mother:
Sophies put together a menu. Heres the list of dishes. Youll need to buy the ingredients. Tell Emily to help out, too. She shouldnt be left out of the cooking.
At that moment Emily, unaware of Sophies impending celebration, settled into her armchair with the remote, ready to watch her favourite series. When Thomas entered the room, eyes lowered, she understood instantly.
So what now? she asked calmly, pausing the programme.
Emily, listen Sophies anniversary thirty years. Its a date, you know. She wants to mark it.
Emily lifted her head.
Fine, let her celebrate. Are we going to stop her?
Thomas scratched his scalp.
Its not that. She wants to celebrate at our place.
What? In our flat? Emily jumped up. Hold on. One evening only? She says the restaurant is too expensive and her place is too cramped
And you said yes?
I said Id talk to you first! But Sophies already invited everyone, and Mums already working on the menu
Emily closed her eyes, took a deep breath.
Thomas, are you an adult or just a messenger for Sophies wishes?
What are you starting?
Im starting, Emily said, her voice dripping with irony as she held up his phone. And nobody even called me? This is my flat, not a transit point for your relatives. Sophie wants to party in my home, I have to help her, I have to assist your mother, and I wasnt even asked!
Just then her phone rang.
Oh, look at thatperfect icing on the cake, she muttered, waving the handset in my face. Your mother
Emily, has Thomas already told you? my motherinlaw blurted out again. Look, therell be up to twenty people, so we start cooking tonight. Ill be there around six tomorrow.
What? In the evening? Emily said, smiling skeptically. No, I never signed up for that.
Hold on, Im not done. Thomas already has the grocery list, he promised to buy everything.
Fine Emily snapped. And the money? Where are we supposed to get it?
Thomas promised to help, Margaret replied shortly.
So you expect us to turn our flat into a restaurant and foot the bill ourselves? Emily snapped, losing patience. Sophie isnt a stranger! Cant you spare a day to slice some veg, make a few salads, put together some sandwiches? Youre the lady of the house, after all.
Margaret Thompson, Emily interrupted, I just found out about this celebration. I never gave permission for Sophies birthday to be held in my flat.
What do you mean my flat? You and Thomas are married. Everything is joint! the motherinlaw shot back.
Dont say that. If it were Thomass flat, youd be quieter. Id just be a kept woman, excuse me.
Dont be foolish. Thats it, conversations over. By Friday we need to buy everything, Margaret said, hanging up.
What was that? Emily asked me, hearing the click of the line.
Enough playing the victim! Thomas finally said. Youve been told youre wrong. Admit your mistake and stop being stubborn.
Emily was stunned. She rose, went to the wardrobe and silently pulled out a large sports bag. She then slipped into the bedroom, opened the chest of drawers and methodically began folding Thomass shirts and jeans.
Meanwhile Thomas, feeling triumphant, threw open the fridge, grabbed a pint of lager, slammed the door and plopped onto the sofa in front of the telly as if nothing had happened.
He thought Emily would just cool off and everything would return to normal. Shed be a bit annoyed, then calm down. He even turned the football on, expecting her to wander in and call him to dinner. He was wrong.
Half an hour later Emily stood in the hallway, a shopping bag in one hand and the overloaded sports bag in the other. Thomas left the living room to fetch another snack, but stopped dead when he saw her.
What now? he snarled. What kind of drama is this?
Emily stared at him coldly:
This isnt drama, Thomas. Its the end. Im done being a shadow in my own life, a servant in my own flat, a backdrop for your mothers and sisters whims. If you want to be the good son and brotherfine. Go back to mum. Start preparing for the party together. Im sure shell happily give you a corner of her living room.
Youre serious? he took a step toward her. Im not going back.
Completely serious, Emily nodded. I dont want you to come back. Ive tolerated enough that I now even question myself. But Ive had my fill. If you havent learned to respect me in three years, the future wont get any better.
Emily you cant just tear everything apart in one breath!
Its impossible to tear down whats already fallen apart.
Thomas grunted, still not grasping that Emily had made her final decision.
And thats that, Emily added. All your shirts and jeans are right here. You dont have to thank me. Get out now.
He tried to speak, but Emily opened the front door. Thomas stood, fists clenched, cheeks burning, lips pressed tight. He still hoped Emily would relent, but her calm only fueled his rage.
Fine then! he shouted. Think youll find someone better? There are plenty out there!
Emily snorted and stepped back:
People like you are easy to find thank heavens.
Youll regret this! Thomas yelled, grabbing the bag. Youll crawl back on your knees when you realise nobody wants to talk to you! Without me youre nobody!
If nobody means someone who lives in his own flat, works, doesnt cater to his relatives demands and wont put up with abuse, then Im happy being nobody.
Thomas left, and Emily was left alone. She inhaled deeply, walked to the window, drew back the curtain and watched him shove the bag into a taxis boot with his foot.
Months passed.
The divorce was ugly. Thomas tried to paint Emily as greedy and materialistic. The biggest battle was over the car theyd bought during the marriage. He insisted hed paid for it entirely; Emily argued shed only driven it.
The Honourable Judge, I paid every penny; the car is in my name! Thomas declared confidently. My wife contributed nothing, not even a pence!
Emily calmly spread a folder of documents on the tablebank statements, transfer receipts, copies of invoices. She even produced the financing agreement shed signed.
Im not claiming his share, but I wont give up mine, she said placidly.
The court ruled in her favour.
Thomas didnt like it. Hed already considered the car his. Now hed have to sell it and split the proceeds. He left the courtroom with his face twisted in anger.
At home, no support awaitedonly a barrage of accusations.
Youre a fool! Margaret shrieked. You gave her everything! The car! The flat! And you didnt even hire a decent solicitor!
On top of that, Thomas had taken out a loan to fund Sophies anniversary dinner at a restaurant, because hed helped her with the flat. Now he was left with a cramped corner in Margarets spare room.
Emily, for the first time in ages, slept soundly. She decided she was still young enough to move on from men like Thomas. Decent men are out thereshe just needed to recognise whos who when the time came.
