I need to explain everything to you, darling…
“Enjoy your meal!” said Laura, sitting down at the table. Everyone in the family had their favourite spot. Her husband always sat facing the window, their twelve-year-old Sophie opposite him, and Laura—as the lady of the house—between them, her back to the hob and sink.
She adored these cosy evening meals when the whole family gathered. Mornings were always rushed—off to work and school with no time for proper conversation. Laura and her husband ate lunch at work, while Sophie had hers at home or at a friend’s place, where the gran baked pies and made hearty soups. So dinner was their only chance to slow down, talk properly, and just be together.
Laura had always dreamed of having a close-knit family. Sure, she had her mum, her dad, then a stepdad and a little sister—but she’d always felt like an outsider, separate from them. That’s just how it was sometimes.
She barely remembered her father. He never shouted, never scolded her, mostly just stayed silent—but his gaze was cold and indifferent. Maybe that’s why she’d always been a bit afraid of him. Her mum wasn’t much for talking either—lips always pressed tight, never smiling.
When Laura got married and started her own family, she made some ground rules: Sunday lunches together and weekday dinners. And not just sitting at the same table—actually sharing news, making plans, talking things through.
Once they’d eaten, Laura asked, “Where are we going on holiday this year? We need to book soon or we’ll miss out.”
“Maybe we could stay at my parents’ cottage?” suggested William. “Dad needs help fixing the fence and roof.”
Ugh. Sophie groaned, “But I want to go to the seaside! Somewhere sunny!”
“Sunny holidays cost money,” William pointed out. “We’ve still got the mortgage, and the car needs new tyres. Staying at the cottage saves us a fortune. We could even take a day trip to the Lakes—it’s lovely in summer.”
Sophie and her dad both looked at Laura, waiting for her verdict.
“I agree with your dad,” she said. “Though a beach holiday would’ve been nice.”
“See?!” Sophie beamed.
Just then, the phone rang.
“Yours,” William said, finishing the last bite of his dinner.
Laura put her fork down and went to answer it. Her mum was calling.
“Mum? What’s wrong?”
“Am I interrupting? Laura, I need to talk. Come over.”
“Now? Are you okay?” Laura’s stomach twisted.
“I’m fine. Just come.” The line went dead.
“What’s happened?” William asked when she came back.
“Mum called. Wants me over. Feels like it’s about Alice again.”
“Want me to drive you?”
“No, I’ll go. If I need picking up, I’ll call.”
Laura hurried out. They didn’t live too far—just a few stops on the bus. The whole way, she tried to guess what could be so urgent. Her mum never asked for advice—why now? Something told her this wouldn’t be good.
When her mum opened the door, Laura could see the anxiety written all over her face.
“Come to the kitchen. Tea?”
“Just ate,” Laura waved off.
The kitchen was cramped, the table shoved against the fridge so they had to sit at an angle. Her mum fidgeted with a ribbon between her fingers. Laura covered her hands gently.
“Mum, relax. What’s going on?”
“Alice rang…” her mum started carefully.
“Knew it,” Laura muttered.
Her mum gave her a look.
“What now? Spit it out,” Laura pressed.
“She needs money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
Laura scoffed. “For what? Didn’t she marry that rich bloke? Remember how she bragged about him at this very table?”
“Something’s gone wrong with Said’s business. He owes a huge sum—got scammed or robbed, I don’t know. They need the money fast, or he’s in danger.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a loss,” Laura said dryly.
“Laura.”
“Fine. But where do we get that kind of money? She forgets how we live here? Said’s dad has that big business—can’t he help?”
“Alice said they’ve sold their house, moved in with his parents. His dad’s covered some of the debt, but they still need twenty grand.”
“Pounds? Euros?” Laura raised a brow.
“Pounds. I’ve decided—I’ll sell the flat. But I need your help with it.”
Laura froze. “Mum, what? Sell your flat—that fast? And then where will you go?”
“I thought… maybe I could stay with you? If that’s all right?” Her voice broke as she started crying.
Laura sat there, stunned. Alice had really done it this time—dumping this mess on their mum.
“Don’t cry. We’ll figure something out. Maybe Alice should just come home? I can scrape together a ticket.”
“She can’t. She’s pregnant again.”
Laura groaned. “Of course she is.”
Her mum wiped her eyes. “I’ve made up my mind. I can’t abandon her. Please, just help me sell it quickly.”
“You realise selling a flat takes time? And if we rush, we’ll get less than it’s worth. Let me talk to William—we’ll sort something. Don’t work yourself up like this.”
On the bus home, Laura seethed. Alice had always got whatever she wanted—spoilt rotten. Now she was dragging their mum into this mess.
Of course, Laura would take her mum in. No question. But Sophie would have to share her room—she wouldn’t be thrilled.
That Said had always rubbed her the wrong way. Handsome, sure. Alice met him in Turkey three years ago on some girls’ holiday. Came back glowing, gushing about his big house, wealthy family. Said he’d come for her soon.
Neither Laura nor their mum could talk her out of marrying him and leaving the country. Then Alice announced she was pregnant. Laura had smelled trouble from the start—what did some rich Turk want with a girl who didn’t even speak the language? But no one listened.
And now here they were.
That night, she and William argued for hours about where to find twenty grand.
“We’ll take a loan,” he finally said. “Then sell Mum’s flat slowly, buy her a smaller one, use the rest to pay off what we can. No holiday this year—just the cottage.”
Laura sighed. “She won’t back down now.”
“We’ll manage,” William said, squeezing her hand. “Tell your mum not to worry.”
That’s why she loved him. Solid, dependable—no Turkish playboy could compare.
She barely slept, memories swirling.
***
Her father left before she turned six. She hardly remembered him. He’d been like a newsreader—stiff, unsmiling. Her mum, already quiet, withdrew completely after he left.
When she started school, her nan picked her up most days, fed her, brought her back in the evenings. Sometimes she stayed over.
“Am I living with you now?” Laura once asked.
“No, love. Your mum’s got a new fella. Let’s hope it works out.” Her nan sighed, stroking her hair.
Then Mum introduced George—always laughing, face flushed from jokes. Mum was different with him—happy. They married, swapped flats with Nan, and Laura got her own room. Bliss.
Until Alice came along in Year Three.
Suddenly, the house revolved around the screaming baby. Laura felt invisible. Nan still took her sometimes, sighing, pitying her.
Alice got away with everything. New clothes while Laura wore hand-me-downs. Nan bought her things secretly.
As a teen, Alice was stunning. “Different dads,” she’d say smugly. Everyone doted on her. Laura just felt alone.
She met William at work, married him a year later. They scraped together a deposit, got a mortgage. Laura made sure they had proper family meals—her one rule.
When Sophie was born, William wanted a boy next. Laura refused, explaining why. He didn’t push.
Mum somehow found money for Alice’s Turkey trip. Never for Laura. Then Alice married Said, had a baby there.
***
The next weeks were chaos. Laura took out a loan. Sending money abroad was a nightmare with all the restrictions. They pulled every favour, called every contact. Finally, it was done.
“We’re selling Mum’s flat to pay this off,” Laura told Alice sharply over the phone. “No more messes.”
They bought her a tiny flat on the outskirts. Mum tried to hide her sadness, saying it was fine. Laura visited daily, helping her settle.
“Thank you, love,” Mum said once.
“Don’t mention it. At least you’ve got your own place. Let’s hope Alice doesn’t drop another bombshell.”
Mum looked down. “IAs the seasons changed, Laura found herself smiling more, realising that sometimes the hardest moments bring families closer together in the end.
