“Harry, have you got out the best china? The one with the gold rim, not the everyday set. And check the napkins, pleaseI starched them extra so they’d stand up like at a posh restaurant,” said Alice, fussing around the kitchen as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The oven already sent wafts of roast duck with apples through the house, veg simmered on the hob for the side dish, and the fridge was packed full of salads shed been chopping half the night.
Her husband Harry obediently climbed up to the top shelf.
“Whats with all the fancy stuff, Al? It’s just family. Greg, Mum, and Aunt Mary. Theyd eat off plastic plates as long as the wine kept flowing,” he grumbled, heaving down a box marked “Wedgewood.”
“Don’t complain. It’s our anniversary todayfifteen years, the crystal one. I want everything perfect. And you know what your brother’s like. If I put out the normal plates, he’ll say we’re skint; if there’s a cracked one, were slobs. For once, Id like to give him no reason for his snide remarks.”
Harry sighed heavily, stepping off the ladder. He knew she was right. His older brother Greg had always been a “difficult sort,” to put it gently. More truthfully, as Alice often said to her friends, he was the very definition of an oaf, parading his rudeness like it was a badge of hard-won honesty.
“Just please, try not to let him get to you today,” Harry said, drying a plate with a dish towel. “Hes been through a rough patchlost his job, Mels left him. Hes in a foul mood.”
“Harry, hes been in a rough patch for forty years. Mel left because her survival instincts finally kicked in,” Alice retorted, tasting the gravy. “Ill tolerate as much as decency requires. But if he brings up my weight or your salary again, I make no promises.”
The doorbell chimed at precisely five. First came Harrys mum, Juditha gentle soul who doted on her sons, particularly the elder “wayward” one. Next arrived Aunt Mary and her husband. Greg, naturally, showed up forty minutes late, barging in just as everyone was eyeing the now-lukewarm starters.
He stormed into the hall in a cloud of cheap cigarette smoke and cold air.
“Here I am! Thought youd started without me! Didnt think I’d come empty-handed, did you? Here, Harry!”
He shoved a lumpy package in his brothers arms, wrapped in yesterdays Daily Mail.
“Whats this?” Harry blinked.
“Mate, its a set of screwdrivers from Poundland. Every home needs themespecially yours. Youre hopeless with DIY, always losing the hammer.”
Alice forced a smile as she came to greet him.
“Greg, hello. Come in, go wash your hands. Weve been waiting.”
Greg gave her a slow, critical up-and-down that made Alice want to shrink away.
“Blimey, Al! New dress? All sparklyyou after attention, or trying to distract from the crows feet? Joking! Joking! Youre still got ityou know, curves and all.”
Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Come on, Greg, the ducks getting cold.”
At the table, Greg instantly took charge. He poured himself a brimming shot of vodka, ignoring any toasts, then speared a piece of herring and started his speech.
“To your anniversary! Fifteen yearsmiracle you havent throttled each other yet. I managed five with Mel and thought Id have to hang myself. Women bleed you dry, dont they? At least, Harry, yours can cookthough, this sarnies a bit heavy on the salt, isnt it Al? Too in love, or just shaky hands with age?”
Judith smiled loyally from her seat.
“Gregory, dont be silly. Alice is a fantastic cook. Try the tongue salad, its ever so delicate.”
“Tongue, eh?” Greg bellowed. “That tracks. Our Alice does love a good gab. Criticisms good for you, Mum. Keeps you honest. I only speak the truthwhy people respect me, you know.”
As Alice brought out the hot food, she felt frustration simmering. She glanced at her husband. Harry was pretending to examine the tablecloth pattern, shoulders hunched. He feared his brother. Feared a row. Feared ruining the night.
“Its just one night,” Alice thought. “Breathe. For Harry. For Mum.”
“So, Greg, hows the job hunt?” she tried to change the subject. “You mentioned youd had an interview last week.”
Greg waved dismissively, pouring another drink.
“Dont ask. The countrys gone mad. I rocked up, and some twenty-five-year-old muppet starts grilling me on spreadsheets. I tell him: Mate, I was grafting when you were still in nappies. He says, Youre not the right fit. Well, stuff em. Might start my own business. As soon as Ive saved some cash. Harry, mate, any chance you can lend us a fifty till payday? My plumbings knackered.”
Alice froze with the salad bowl in her hands.
“Greg, you still havent paid back the £200 from six months ago for your car repairs,” she said levelly.
Greg flushed but immediately lashed out.
“Oh, here we goAlice on the accounts! Harry, mate, she keeping tabs on you too? Not a free man in your own house? Im asking my brother, not the wife. Are you her lapdog, or can you help your own flesh and blood?”
Harry looked helplessly at both.
“Greg, honestly, were skint right now. Just settled the mortgage and did up the house…”
“Yeah, must be so tough,” Greg sneered, waving his fork toward the duck. “Fat spread! Caviar, salmon. Must be loaded. But wont slip your own brother a tenner. Typical. Squirreling it all away, eh Al? Couldnt care less if your family starves.”
“Now, now, Gregoryhave a pie, love,” Judith tried to soothe, sliding over a plate. “Alice baked all day.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Greg snapped. “Probably puts in as much effort for her boss, eh, Al? Heard you got promoteddeputy head now, are you? Must have charmed management all those late nights at the office?”
A heavy silence blanketed the table. Even Aunt Mary, usually unflappable, stopped chewing. Harrys cheeks went scarlet, his fist tightening on his fork.
“Greg, what is wrong with you?” he whispered.
“What? Im just saying what everyones thinking! Youre a mug, Harrygrinding away at that factory for pennies, while she climbs the ladder. Bet shes only with you out of pityor convenience. Have a look at yourself! Youre a wet rag.”
Alice unexpectedly found her voice, even though her hands trembled. She set the salad bowl down with care.
“Thats enough. Get up and leave.”
Greg snorted.
“Really? Feeling a bit power-mad, are we?”
“I said, get up. Out of my house. Now.”
“This is Harrys house too!” Greg shrieked. “Harry! Shes kicking your brother out! Say something!”
Harry met Alices eyes, seeing in her pale, determined face that if he stood by and did nothing now, their marriage would be over. Their crystal anniversary would shatter into fragments.
“Leave, Greg,” he croaked.
Greg was shocked into silence. He expected tears, shouts, anything but united opposition.
“Youre mad! Mum, you seeing this? Kicked out, for a joke!”
“That wasnt a joke,” Alice said, standing firm and pointing at the door. “You insulted me, humiliated your brother in his own home and at his own table. You eat our food, drink our wine, and then spew poison. For fifteen years Ive put up with it, hoping for peace. But all theres been is your rudeness and our patience. The patience ends now. Out.”
“Stuff the lot of you!” Greg hissed, knocking over his glass so red wine bled across the snowy cloth. “You can choke on your posh salad, you pretentious snobs! I wont set foot in here again!”
“I look forward to it,” Alice shot back. “Ohand the loans off. Look for a job, Mr Entrepreneur.”
Greg went puce, grabbed the half-bottle of vodka (“no sense wasting it,” glinting in his eye), and stomped to the door.
“Harry, youll regret this! Dumped your brother for your wife! Henpecked, the lot of you!”
The door slammed so hard the glasses rattled in the cabinet.
The silence that followed was dense as fog, broken only by the ticking clock and Judiths unsteady breathing. She sat pressing a handkerchief to her lips, eyes glossy with tears.
“Alice” she whispered, voice trembling. “Must you have been so harsh? He didnt mean it He just cant help himself. Had too much to drink. ”
Alice faced her gently but firmly.
“Judith, cant help himself is when someone laughs too loud. What Greg does is called cruelty. I wont have my home be a rubbish tip for his insults. Its your choice to pity him as a motherbut not here, not at my table.”
Judith sniffed but said nothing. Aunt Mary, practical as always, loudly pinged her fork.
“That duck, Aliceabsolutely delicious! Just melts in the mouth. And really, you did the right thing. Gregs always been a borestood on my foot at your wedding, never apologised. Harry, pour me some wine, I need something after all that!”
That was enough to break the tension. Harry, shaken but grateful, poured drinks. Alice saw something new in his facenot just gratitude, but an old respect returned.
“Sorry,” Harry murmured as he passed her the cranberry juice. “I should’ve done that. All these years…”
“Its all right,” Alice put her hand on his. “What matters is we stood together. And that hes not here.”
The rest of the evening took on a surprisingly joyful tone. Without Greg, the air felt fresher. The guests relaxed, swapping gentle humour and sharing happy memories. Even Judith unfurled a little, singing along when Aunt Mary led a tuneful toast.
When everyone had left, Alice and Harry sat alone surrounded by mountains of dirty dishes. Alice slumped into a chair, eyeing the wine stain on the tablecloth.
“Thatll never come out,” she sighed. “Mum gave me this.”
Harry hugged her from behind.
“Forget the cloth. We can buy a new one. Ten, if needed. You were incredible tonight. Ive been such a fool, letting Greg walk all over us. I got used to itMum always said, Let Greg have his way, hes a delicate soul. So I did.”
“I know. Old habits are hard to break,” Alice said softly. “But were a family. Crystaldelicate, but beautiful. I wont let a bully with a bag of Poundland screwdrivers break us.”
They both laughed, the tension dissolving.
“Speaking of screwdrivers,” Harry held up the present Greg had left behind, “Guess what? He gave me this exact set three Christmases agomustve found it in the garage and re-gifted it.”
“Consistency is a skill in itself,” Alice smiled.
The next morning Harrys phone wouldnt stop buzzingGreg calling. He glanced at Alice, calm with her coffee and novel, and turned the volume right down, flipping the phone over.
“Not answering?” she asked.
“No. Let him stew. In fact, I might not answer at all. Last nights calm was lovely.”
“Mums bound to worry,” Alice observed.
“Shell survive. Good for her to know Ive got a backbone nowbetter yet, that we both do. Were a team, right?”
“A team it is,” Alice agreed. “The Duck and Silence Appreciation Society!”
A week later, Alice heard from Judith that Greg had spun tales for the wider family about how hed been “thrown out for no reason by that mad daughter-in-law,” while “poor Harry hid behind the drinks trolley.” The relatives feigned concern, but started visiting Alice and Harry more oftenand acted noticeably more polite. It seemed word had spread that theirs was a home where bad manners wouldnt be tolerated.
And as for the tablecloth? The stain came out, thanks to an old trick with salt and boiling waterjust like Greg, scrubbed away with some effort and a bit of sting, but leaving everything clearer and easier on the eyes.
Sometimes the crystals worth protecting. It shines brighter without clouds of rudeness dimming its light.
