On New Years Eve, the bell rang.
The neighbour from downstairs, Elizabeth, appeared in the doorway, her voice trembling: Can I come in for half an hour?
My wages havent gone through.
Theres nothing at home, not even a biscuit for the children to have with tea.
Im just sitting alone with them, and all they want is a bit of celebration
Mary stood by the cooker, surveying the roast duck with oranges shed just pulled from the oven.
The aroma flooded the kitchen, making her wish she could simply breathe it in with her eyes closed.
Shed spent hours fussing over the bird since morning, basting it, watching the timer, never leaving its side.
The result was flawless.
David, come and look! she called her husband.
He stepped out of the living room, whistled, and nodded approvingly, Mary, that looks like something from a fancy restaurant!
She smiled brightly, Well, why not?
Just let me plate it up and add some garnish itll be gorgeous.
Carefully, she arranged the duck on a large ceramic platter, scattered orange segments around it and tucked sprigs of rosemary alongside.
It looked like something from the cover of a gourmet magazine.
The table was already laden: three salads potato, prawn, and Greek; sandwiches with smoked salmon; a selection of fine cheeses; cured meats; a bowl overflowing with grapes and kiwi; and a separate tray heaped with homemade meatballs and roast potatoes.
Are we opening a banquet hall? David joked.
No, Mary replied calmly, I just want to celebrate New Years like proper people.
Weve worked hard all year.
We deserve this.
David put his arm around her shoulders, Couldnt agree more.
Its been ages since we had a proper holiday.
It was true theyd scrimped and saved to refurbish their flat.
Now the renovation was complete, their finances steady, and at last they could indulge themselves.
Mary straightened the cutlery, took out crystal glasses from the cabinet where theyd gathered dust, careful to make everything look festive and elegant.
By ten oclock, the table was perfect.
Husband and wife changed into their evening finery and settled across from each other.
David poured the drinks.
Shall we toast to us?
To us.
They clinked glasses.
Mary tried the potato salad spot on.
David carved himself a slice of duck and rolled his eyes in delight, Mary, youre a magician.
She felt quietly proud.
The table, their cosy evening, the peace and freedom to linger it all seemed like real happiness.
At precisely eleven, the doorbell rang.
They glanced at each other, puzzled.
Who could be calling so late?
David went to answer it.
On the threshold stood their neighbour Elizabeth with her two sons.
She looked exhausted, her eyes red-rimmed.
Sorry, David I know its late could we stay for a bit?
Im at my wits end
What happened? he asked gently.
Its everything at once Elizabeth sniffed, My boss didnt pay me, and I havent got a contract.
Theres nothing at home, not even a biscuit for tea.
My friends were meant to visit, but didnt show up, and the boys well, they just want something special for New Years.
Her sons stood behind her, skinny, in worn jumpers, silent.
David hesitated.
Turning them away on New Years was too cruel.
Come in, he said.
Let me tell Mary.
When Mary saw the guests, she knew instantly: their quiet evening was over.
Hello, Elizabeth boys.
Sorry to barge in, Mary really, weve nowhere else to go.
Just twenty minutes, if you dont mind?
Mary looked at the children.
They said nothing, but their eyes were fixed on the kitchen, drawn by the scents.
Please, come sit at the table, Mary sighed.
The guests sat down and everything slipped into chaos.
Mum, look! the older boy gasped, So much food!
Can I have some salmon? asked the younger.
Sit down, Mary said, curt.
The boys took their seats.
The eldest grabbed a duck leg straight away, Aunt Mary, may I?
Without waiting for an answer, he bit into it.
The younger stuffed salmon sandwiches into his mouth.
Yummy! he said, beaming.
Mum, can I have another?
Elizabeth not only didnt stop them she piled their plates with food herself, Eat, boys, eat.
All weve had at home are noodles.
You need a proper meal.
The teens ate ferociously.
The eldest demolished half the potato salad; the youngest finished all the salmon.
Then they moved on to the cheeses, ham, and meats.
Within minutes, the platter was gone.
Mary watched as if in a nightmare.
David tried to lighten the mood, Impressive appetites, lads!
No one heard him.
They were onto the duck, devouring massive pieces.
Is there any bread? the older asked.
Mary fetched bread in silence.
The boys promptly constructed sandwiches.
Elizabeth, shameless, sampled the salads, tried the duck, grabbed meatballs.
Sorry to do this, she said, mouth full, but you understand the boys are starving.
After twenty minutes, almost nothing remained of the feast.
The salads were cleared, the duck vanished, cheese, meats, fruit all spirited away by uninvited guests.
Mary sat frozen.
Shed spent two days preparing, poured money and heart into the meal, hoping for a tranquil celebration with David.
This outcome was nothing like she imagined.
At quarter to midnight, Elizabeth stood, gathering her sons.
Right, time we were off.
Thank you so much!
Honestly, you saved us.
The younger boy grabbed a pastry, asking, Can I take this for later?
Take it, Mary replied, weary, not even glancing at him.
The guests left, tossing out their thanks.
The door closed.
Mary and David stood in the kitchen, staring at what only half an hour ago was a gleaming banquet.
Only crumbs remained, salad bowls emptied, fruit gone to the last grape.
All that survived were a few clementines in the fruit bowl.
Did you see that? Mary whispered.
I saw, David replied, just as softly.
They ate everything in half an hour.
Everything I worked for two days to make.
Mary
They didnt even thank us properly.
Not one.
Just grabbed, ate, and asked for more.
David hugged her.
Mary didnt cry she simply stared at the empty plates, trying to make sense of it all.
As Big Bens chimes rang out, they still clinked their glasses together.
But the celebration was hopelessly ruined, as was their mood.
The next morning, Mary cleaned the kitchen: washed dishes, packed away the few scraps remaining if they could be called scraps at all.
You know, David, Mary said, I get that people can be struggling.
I understand about unpaid wages.
But why didnt she stop her boys?
Why not say: Enough, lads, this isnt ours?
No idea, David shrugged.
Maybe they really were so hungry.
Hunger is one thing, Mary replied calmly.
Greeds quite another.
They werent eating they were grabbing, as if theyd never see food again.
David stayed silent, so she continued:
And Elizabeth sighing and playing the victim while shoving plate after plate at her children.
Did she even think about us?
What wed have left?
On New Years evening, Mary ran into Elizabeth in the hallway.
Elizabeth grinned cheerfully, Morning, Mary!
Happy New Year again!
Thanks so much for yesterday!
Mary looked at her neighbours pleased face and suddenly something inside snapped.
Hello, Mary replied dryly, walking past.
Elizabeth watched her go, baffled.
Mary took out the rubbish and returned home.
See Elizabeth? David asked.
I did.
And?
Im done with her.
She can find another sponsor.
A week passed.
Mary crossed paths with Elizabeth in the lift and corridors, each time turning away, pretending not to notice.
Elizabeth tried to chat all she got was silence.
Mary, are you still on a strop? David asked one evening.
Im not sulking, Mary replied gently.
I just realised something: pitys a terrible counsellor.
We felt sorry for them and let them in and got an empty table and ruined holiday for it.
But their situation really is tough
David, Mary looked him in the eye, hardship doesnt give you licence to forget decency.
They could have asked for tea, some food.
Instead, they swept the lot and never truly apologised.
David sighed arguing was pointless.
A month passed.
Relations with Elizabeth never recovered.
Mary greeted her curtly, sometimes not at all.
Elizabeth complained to others that Mary was too high and mighty now, but Mary didnt care.
She would remember that New Year forever: the empty table, contented faces of uninvited guests, and her own sense of emptiness.
And she made up her mind, firmly: never again let in those who mistake hospitality for an opportunity to take advantage.
