Neither way works. I wont board a plane with your daughter! I cant keep pretending Im fine with it.
The idea of this big happy family makes me sick, because it runs entirely on my patience.
And what do you suggest? Edward squinted. Divorce? Over a holiday? Are you serious?
Not because of the holiday, Edward. Because you never hear me. And you never will.
To you, Mabel is sacred. And we, Harry, are just leftovers.
On Sunday, Claire, as usual, slipped into the stepdaughters room with a bucket and a mop the chaos there was unimaginable.
She hadnt set foot in that room since Mabel left for university.
Claire flung her arm wide, and the rag slapped the table.
Princess, she hissed, staring at a poster of some pop group on the wall. How can a girl be so untidy?
She should have at least tidied up before she fled!
Three years ago Claire met Edward and moved in with him and his son.
For thirtysix months the space between her and her stepdaughter turned into a battlefield. They despised each other, masking all real feeling from the father and husband.
For almost two hours Claire cleared Mabels room, then drifted into the hallway and nudged open the door to the tiniest cubicle, narrow and elongated like a school case.
The window faced north, so the room stayed dark even at noon.
A foldout sofa occupied the space because a proper double bed would not fit.
Harry, her elevenyearold son, never complained. He was a quiet boy, content with what was given, and that irritated Claire doubly.
She didnt need to deepclean his room; a swipe of dust and a mop of the floor were enough Harry kept his corner tidy on his own.
Mum, why are you stuck in there? Harrys voice floated from the kitchen. The kettles whistling.
Claire exhaled, swiftly wiped the hallway floor, poured the dirty water into the loo, and went to make tea.
Edward sat at the table, glued to his laptop.
Sit down, love, he said without looking up. Im checking options. Spain or Greece?
Probably breezy in Greece now.
Claire poured herself a coffee. Harry finished his cereal, thanked her, and bolted from the table.
Claire decided enough was enough.
Edward, we need to talk.
He finally tore his eyes away from the screen.
Why the stormy tone? Whats happened? Did Harry get another bad mark?
No. It isnt about Harry. Well, it is, a bit. Im talking about the holiday.
Go on.
Look, theres a lovely fivestar resort in Brighton with a massive waterpark. Mabel would love it. Harry too.
Just hearing Mabels name made Claires stomach twist.
Ed, her voice trembled. I was thinking maybe this time we could fly just the two of us, our own little family?
Edward frowned, puzzled.
What do you mean? Whose family are we flying for? No one invited neighbours.
I mean without Mabel. Just us. You, me, and Harry.
A pause hung. Edward slowly closed his laptop.
Claire, Mabels on break, shes expecting us. We always travel together. Its tradition.
And what does our own family mean? Isnt my daughter part of the family?
Traditions can change if you wish. Weve been married three years and never taken a holiday all three of us. Shes always with us!
Im exhausted, Ed. I just want a break with my own family, without worrying about what your daughter feels, what room shell need, or which icecream she gets first.
Edwards face hardened.
Mabel is part of my family. You knew that when you married me.
I knew! But I didnt know shed be such a presence! She lives in another city, has her own mum, school, friends.
Why must every vacation revolve around her?
Because Im her father. I barely see her. A holiday is the only time we can really talk.
And me?! Claire burst out. And Harry? Are we just scenery for your bonding? Servants?
Harry is forever stuck in a tiny attic, his room half the size of hers, even though he lives here permanently!
Again with the room, Edward grimaced. Weve closed that chapter. This was my childhood home; that room was mine, then hers.
So my son doesnt deserve his own space?!
Edward sighed, rose, and moved toward her.
Fine. Calm down. I hear you. Youre tired, works a mess, nerves frayed Want a holiday just the two of us? Lets try.
Claire froze. Could she have finally reached him?
You serious?
If its that hard for you, lets try. Just once. No Mabel.
Claire spun, pressed her cheek against his chest, a secret smile blooming. A tiny victory.
The next day Claire floated through work as if on clouds. Reports filed themselves, the stern accounts clerk seemed suddenly kind, and the drizzle outside felt like a gentle spring rain.
That evening, as she simmered a stew, her phone buzzed a message from Ed.
Check the options. I like the second one spa looks brilliant.
Three links followed.
Claire dried her hands on a towel, unlocked the screen, and clicked the first link.
Each site bore a bold sign: Adults Only.
At first she was bewildered, then realised the hotels simply didnt take children only grownups.
She reread the message. Mistake?
She called Ed. He answered instantly, the hum of a car engine in the background he was driving home.
So? Did you look? his voice was pleased. The second place is the best, says the steakhouse is superb.
Ed Claire lowered herself onto a stool. Why are the hotels 18+?
What do you mean? You said yesterday, I want my own family, fed up with kids.
I thought, why not? We could have a honeymoon we missed.
Harry will stay with his gran, Mabel will be with her mum. Well rest like normal people.
Ed, you dont get it, Claire said slowly. I didnt want a holiday without children at all. I wanted one without Mabel.
A silence stretched.
You mean without Mabel? And Harry stays?
Of course! Where else would I put him? My mothers blood pressure cant handle two weeks with him.
Hes eager for the sea; he only learned to swim properly last year
Hold on. Lets sort this. You said our own family.
I naïvely thought you meant romance. Turns out you just want to push my daughter out of the trip?
Not push! Claire sprang, darting around the cramped kitchen. Just once, the three of us: me, you, and Harry.
Whats criminal about that? We live together! Were a separate family, Edward!
And Mabel?
She lives elsewhere! Edward, understand, it hurts! Harry is always a supporting act. I want him to feel important, that the holiday is for him, not for her!
So heres the deal, he cut in. Listen carefully. Ill never sort children into grades.
First grade your Harry, because he lives here. Second grade my Mabel, because shell manage.
I dont sort!
You do. You suggest I take your son and tell my daughter:
Sorry love, you dont fit our perfect picture, stay home.
Can you picture that? How do I explain it?
Aunt Claire doesnt want you?
Why be so harsh? We could say there were no tickets, funds ran low
I wont lie to her. And I wont be a scoundrel.
Edward fell silent, then continued.
Bottom line. Either we all go you, me, Harry, Mabel as always. Or just the two of us, no kids at all.
No third option where one child suns itself and the other sulks in a dusty town. Never.
But Edward
Thats it. Im heading out. Conversation over.
He hung up. Claire flung the phone onto the table; it slid across the wood, striking the bread tin.
How infuriating! If they travel just the two of them, Harry will remain in the stale city with his gran, eating porridge with lumps and reciting classics aloud.
If they all go again. Again Mabel will claim the best seat, the first scoop of icecream, and Edward will dote over her:
Dont burn yourself, love, Want some water?
Meanwhile Harry will curl up at the back like a tail.
Edward returned, they dined in silence. The holiday topic resurfaced on its own.
So, shall I book the waterpark place? Edward said, opening his laptop. Four people. Two rooms, kids together, us together.
Edward, Claire whispered.
What?
Dont book.
He froze, eyes lifting slowly.
What do you mean, dont book? Is this happening again?
Claire, I told you: either all or none
I heard your ultimatum, she interjected. You said: either with both kids or just us.
So?
Im filing for divorce
Stop that nonsense. Have you gone off the rails? I love Harry, I love you, and
Love, Claire nodded. Like a comfy sofa. But if the sofa no longer fits in the room where your daughters piano sits, youll toss it out!
Claire, stop the hysteria! I dont understand whats starting!
She walked to the window, stared a long moment, then said,
You know, I might actually go through with the divorce.
Edward snorted and slammed his laptop shut with a loud crack.
Fine. Lets see. Destroy a family over childish jealousy. Very grownup.
Who will you need then? A child, a flat? Think with your head, not just one place!
I think, Claire replied without turning. I think about living in a modest onebed flat, knowing its ours.
That my son can sleep on a proper bed, not in a cramped attic like his grandfathers.
And that we no longer have to fight the girl for space that rightfully belongs to us.
Well manage, Ed
The floorboards creaked in the hallway perhaps Harry had overheard.
Claire was terrified of the looming night. Divorce meant a pit, poverty, solitude, a son newly accustomed to a fathers presence.
But she could no longer endure the constant compromise. How long could she?
Well talk tomorrow, Edward said, standing. Im off to bed. You think it over, Claire. Youre angry at the fat.
He left, the bedroom door closing softly, while Claire remained in the kitchen. Mabel would be back in a week, dumping her things in the lounge, laughing loudly, interrupting everyone at the table, while Edward would gaze at her with adoration she never received.
No, she whispered. I cant any longer.
She opened her banking app. Her savings were modest, but enough for a deposit on a flat and the first months rent.
She slipped out of the room, heading toward the bedroom. Tomorrow would be hard packing, talks with Harry, house hunting.
She needed a proper rest.
Despite Edwards feeble protests, Claire proceeded with the divorce.
She had hoped he would see sense, abandon his older daughter, but nothing changed.
Soon after the papers, Claire and Harry vanished from Edwards life. He stopped calling, stopped writing, stopped visiting.
Claire sometimes regretted it. Perhaps she should have endured? She had shattered her own happiness with her own hands.
