“Either you let my brother move into your flat, or pack your things and get out!” the husband snapped.
Victoria had stayed at work two hours late. Two new clients had booked appointments after glowing recommendations from friends.
“We only want to see you, Victoria! Youre hands down the best hairdresser in town!” Those words had kept her smiling all the way home.
Maybe it really was time to take the leap and start her own business. Enough waiting for “the right moment.”
Lost in thought, she barely noticed the walk home. As she reached the landing, unfamiliar voices drifted from the flat. She unlocked the doorand froze. A battered rucksack lay in the hallway, muddy boots kicked off by the door, the stench of stale beer thick in the air.
“Vicky, look whos back! Its Chris!” Her husband, Paul, leaned out from the kitchen with an odd, forced smile.
His younger brother sat slumped on the kitchen sofa, staring blankly at the table. The same Chris whod walked out four years ago to move in with a dancer from some dodgy club.
“Hi,” Chris muttered, not even looking up.
“Mum, whos that?” whispered her daughter, fresh back from ballet.
“Thats your Uncle Chris, love. Dads brother. You were too little to remember him.”
“Whys he so weird?” Emilys voice dropped lower.
“Go to your room, sweetheart. Well talk later.”
Victoria locked herself in the bathroom, turning the tap on full blast. She needed a minute. The mirror reflected a tired woman with dark roots showing. She ran a hand through her hairbut right now, that was the least of her worries.
Four years ago, when Chris left, shed seen how it wrecked Paul. He hadnt spoken to his parents for months, blaming them for driving his brother away. Then, like flipping a switch, hed stopped mentioning Chris altogether. But now, suddenly, everything had changed.
Paul followed her into the bedroom, hesitating before speaking.
“Hes staying with us. Just for a bit. Hes in a bad way. His wife cheated on himtheyre divorced. He cant go to Mum and Dads.”
“You decided that without asking me? Without even discussing it?” She turned on him. “Do you have any idea how selfish that is?”
“What was there to discuss? Hes my brother. Hes got nowhere else.”
“Paul, weve got a teenage daughter. Have you seen the state hes in? You think its okay for her to see that every day? Chris”
“Thats why he needs us! Family sticks together!” Paul met her eyes for the first time that evening. “You know I cant turn my back on him. I wont!”
“How long?”
“As long as it takes. He needs time to sort himself out.”
“And what about Emily? Did you think about her? Shes at that age”
“Vicky, enough!” His voice rosesomething he never did. “Hes my brother. My little brother. Im not leaving him to deal with this alone.”
Victoria opened her mouththen stopped. Something in his tone chilled her. In fourteen years, shed never heard that edge before.
“Fine.” She turned to the window. “But he doesnt drink in this house. And he finds a job.”
Paul left without another word. Through the wall, she heard hushed voices in the kitchen. Too quiet for her to make out.
It was past midnight when the talking stopped. She lay awake, listening to footsteps pacing the hall. Paul took ages settling Chris in the living room.
“Itll be alright,” he whispered, sliding into bed. But she wasnt so sure anymore.
***
The morning reeked of stale beer. Victoria silently made Emilys breakfast, ignoring the empty bottles and overflowing ashtray.
A month in, and their kitchen had become a 24-hour pub for two.
“Mum, off to school,” Emily murmured, sidestepping her snoring uncle, her bag clutched tight. Lately, the girl barely stayed homejoining clubs, crashing at friends.
Watching her daughter rush out, Victoria felt anger simmer.
Their “temporary guest” had undone years of family life in weeks: cosy evenings, shared meals, real talks with Emily.
“Morning.” Paul stepped out, already dressed. “Coffee?”
“Leftover. From yesterday.” She nodded at the pot. “We need to talk.”
“Not nowIm late.” He grimaced at the cold brew.
“When, Paul? Youre always late. And at night, its just you and Chris.”
He paused at the door. “Whatre you saying?”
“That this isnt working. We cant freeload a grown man forever.”
“Hes depressed, Vicky. Cant you see hes a mess?”
“And what about us? About Emily not wanting to come home? About this flat smelling like a pub? You”
“What about me?”
“Youve changed. Like I dont even know you anymore.”
Paul set his cup down hard. “Tonight. Well talk properly. No shouting.”
“No. Now.” She blocked his path. “I want Chris gone in a week. He can rent a place, get a jobI dont care. But not on our dime.”
“Are you serious?” His eyes narrowed. “Youd throw my own brother out?”
“Im saying stop being his free B&B! Hes not even trying!”
“He needs time! Its bloody obvious!”
“How much? A month? A year? Forever?” Her voice cracked. “Do you even see what this is doing to our family?”
“And do you see hes my family too? I wont abandon him like our parents didnot even for you!”
“So thats your choice?” Tears spilled over.
“Its not a choice, Vicky. Its duty. You just refuse to see it.”
He left, the door clicking shut behind him. Chriss snores rumbled from the sofa. Victoria sank onto a chair, staring at Pauls untouched coffee.
He hadnt kissed her goodbye. Not once.
***
They didnt speak for days.
Victoria left early, came home late. Paul pretended not to noticestaying up with Chris, laughing over private jokes.
Emily tiptoed around them, met with the same lie: “Its fine, love. Dont worry.”
At night, lying awake, Victoria caught whispers from the kitchen: “She doesnt get it bloods thicker youre too soft on her”
***
On Friday, Paul came home early. Chris was crashed out; Emily was blasting music in her room.
Victoria stirred soup on autopilot. Cooking always cleared her head.
“Ive sorted it,” Paul said, leaning in the doorway. “Found a solution that works for everyone.”
She kept stirring, silent. This week had taught her the power of saying nothing.
“Simple, really. Chris can stay at your flat.”
The spoon clinked against the pot. That flat was her safety netleft to her by her godmother before theyd married. Hers alone.
“There are tenants,” she said evenly.
“So? Give them notice. Theyll find somewhere.”
“Paul, have you lost it? Theyve paid a year upfront. Two little kids. I wont do it.”
“Fine. Then Chris stays here. End of discussion.” He shrugged. “Your call.”
She dried her hands slowly. “Youd really kick out a familygood tenantsto house your brother rent-free?”
“What choice is there? You wanted him out.”
“I wanted him to stand on his own two feet! Not leech off us!”
“Hes depressed!”
“Or just lazy?” Her voice sharpened. “Drinking our wine, eating our food, sleeping on our sofa”
Pauls fist slammed the counter. “Dont you dare talk about him like that! One more word”
Victoria studied himreally studied himand something clicked. This wasnt just helping his brother. This was a choice. And hed made it.
“Alright,” she said softly. “I understand.”
He blinked, thrown. No tears? No fight?
“W-what do you understand?”
“Everything.” She smiled. “Dinners ready. Call Chris.”
As he left, she pulled out her phone.
“Marina? That solicitor you mentionedI need a consult. Urgently.”
Emilys music still thumped through the door. Victoria pressed her forehead to the cool wood.
“Itll be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Mums got this.”
***
For three weeks, Victoria barely came home. She took extra shifts, signed up for courses.
Emily stayed at her grans. “Revising for exams,” she said.
Paul didnt argue. The flat became a boys clubfootball, takeaway, loud debates.
She was a stranger in her own home.
Every morning, shed find the
