**Diary Entry**
Ive had enough. From now on, Ill only cook for myself and Annie. “Whys that?” snapped Nicholas. “Because in this family, Ive realised everyone fends for themselves. So live with it!”
“Mum, wheres my breakfast?” Lottie barged into the bedroom without knocking. “Ill be late for school!”
Nina tried to sit up, but her head spun. The thermometer read thirty-nine. Her throat burned, her chest rattled.
“Lottie, Im ill Grab something from the fridge.”
“Theres nothing! Only Annies yoghurts!” Lottie stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Its always about her!”
A cry came from the nursery. Annie was awake. Nina forced herself up, legs wobbling, spots dancing before her eyes.
“Nina, wheres my shirt?” Nicholas called from the bathroom. “The striped blue one?”
“Should be in the wardrobe”
“Its not! Did you iron it yesterday?”
Nina leaned against the wall. Shed spent all day feverish, tending to the baby.
“No, I didnt get to it.”
“Brilliant! Ive got a meeting!” He slammed the bathroom door.
Annies wails grew louder. Nina shuffled to the nursery, scooping her up. The little girl clung to her, sniffling.
“Mum!” Lottie yelled from the kitchen. “Theres literally nothing here! Not even bread!”
“Moneys on the table. Buy something on your way.”
“Im not stopping at the shop! Ive got a test! And anyway, feeding us is your job!”
Nina silently carried Annie to the kitchen, pulled frozen burgers from the freezer, and slapped the pan on the hob.
“And make pasta!” Lottie ordered, glued to her phone.
While breakfast cooked, Nicholas emerged in a crumpled shirt.
“Had to wear this. Look like a tramp. Cheers for that.”
Nina stayed quiet. Speaking hurt, and she had no energy left for explanations.
“Its Charlottes birthday today,” Lottie announced, shovelling pasta onto her plate. “Im going round after school. Back late.”
“Lottie, I feel awful. Could you stay and help with Annie?”
“Yeah, right! Ive waited months for this party! And I never asked for a sisterthats your problem!”
She grabbed her bag and slammed the door.
Nicholas scrolled through his phone, finishing breakfast.
“Nick, could you come home early? Im really poorly.”
“Cant. Work drinks after. Priorities, you know.”
“But Im ill”
“Take something. Paracetamol or whatever. Youre not bedridden. Deal with it.”
He pecked her sweaty forehead and left.
Nina was alone with three-year-old Annie. The toddler demanded attention, food, play. Nina moved on autopilot, her strength draining.
By lunch, her fever hit forty. She managed to feed Annie, put her down for a nap, and collapsed on the sofa. Her head pounded; her heart raced.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Lottie: “Mum, send money for Charlottes present. Now!”
Nina didnt reply. She couldnt even lift the phone.
Nicholas returned first that evening, tipsy, carrying a bag of crisps.
“Got beer and snacks! Match is on!” He flopped onto the sofa and turned on the telly.
“Nick, feed Annie, please. I cant get up.”
“That bad?” He finally looked at her. “Whyre you so red?”
“High fever. All day”
“Well, call an ambulance if its that serious. Wheres Annie?”
“In bed. Shell wake soon.”
“Fine, Ill feed her. But not till shes up.”
Annie woke half an hour later, crying for Mum. Nicholas reluctantly paused the telly and picked her up.
“Why the fuss? Come to Dad!”
But the little girl squirmed, wailing louder. Nicholas panicked.
“Nina, she wants you!”
“Give her a biscuit from the cupboard. And juice.”
“Where? I cant find anything!”
Nina forced herself up. The room swayed. She grabbed the wall, fetched a biscuit, and poured juice. Annie calmed slightly.
Lottie came home past midnight. Nina was still awake, feverish.
“Why didnt you reply?” Lottie snapped. “I had to borrow money from Charlottes mum! So embarrassing!”
“Lottie, Ive been burning up all day”
“So? Couldnt pick up the phone? Two seconds!”
Next morning, Nicholas shook her awake.
“Nina, get up! Ive got work, and Annies screaming!”
Her fever had broken, but weakness lingered. Nina dressed Annie.
“What about breakfast?” he asked.
“Make it yourself. Im taking Annie to nursery.”
“Make it? I dont know how! And no time!”
“Youll learn.”
Something in her voice silenced him. He grumbled and trudged to the kitchen.
When Nina returned, the house was a mess. Dirty dishes, scattered clothes, unmade bed. Normally, shed clean immediately. Not today.
She showered, drank tea, and went back to bed.
That evening, the family gatherednot for dinner, but around an empty table.
“Mum, whats for dinner?” Lottie asked.
“Dunno. Whatever you make.”
“What?” Lottie gaped.
“Exactly. Im only cooking for me and Annie now.”
“Whys that?” Nicholas scowled.
“Because in this family, Ive realised everyones on their own. So manage.”
“Nina, come on.” He tried to hug her, but she stepped back.
“Im tired of being your maid! Yesterday proved Im just unpaid staff to you.”
“Mum, I said sorry!” Lottie lied.
“No, you didnt. Neither did Dad. No one even asked how I was.”
“Fine, sorry!” Lottie huffed. “Are we just meant to starve?”
“Fridge is full. Youve got hands. Cook.”
The first week was chaos. Lottie threw tantrums; Nicholas slammed doors. Nina held firmcooking, cleaning, and washing only for herself and Annie.
“Mum, my jeans are filthy!” Lottie whined.
“Washing machines there. Detergents under the sink.”
“I dont know how!”
“Youll learn. Instructions are on the lid.”
Nicholas wore wrinkled shirts to work, ate takeaways. Money vanished fast.
“Nina, this is ridiculous! Eating out every day!”
“Cook at home. Cheaper.”
“I cant!”
“Try YouTube. Millions of recipes.”
The house descended into filthdirty dishes, dusty floors. Nina saw it but didnt intervene. Only Annies room stayed tidy.
After two weeks, Lottie attempted pasta. Forgot salt, overcooked itmush.
“Mum, help!”
“No. Learn.”
“Youre my mum! You have to!”
“My jobs under-18s. Fancy meals arent included. Bread, milk, cerealyou wont starve.”
Nicholas tried scrambled eggs. Burnt them. Tried againedible.
“Look, Nina! I made eggs!”
Nina nodded and turned back to her book. No praise. No fuss.
By week three, the house was a tip. Lottie sobbed over a mountain of laundry.
“Mum, please! Just this once! Ive got nothing clean for school!”
“You were home all yesterday. Couldve washed them.”
“I had homework!”
“I work from home, cook, clean up after Annie, take her out. And I manage.”
“Youre the adult!”
“And you want adult privileges? Late nights, pocket money? Then act like one.”
By months end, they cracked. Lottie learned to wash, cook basics, tidy. Nicholas mastered eggs, pasta, even simple soup.
One evening, Nina returned from the park with Annie. The table was set; dinner smelled ready. Nicholas and Lottie stood sheepishly.
“Mum, we made dinner,” Lottie mumbled. “I did salad; Dad roasted chicken.”
“Thanks,” Nina said evenly.
“Mum, were sorry,” Lottie whispered. “We didnt get it how hard it is for you.”
“Nina, well do better,” Nicholas added. “Promise. Well help.”
Nina studied them. They hadnt changednot really. But fear of losing their live-in maid had sunk in.
Now they knew: push too far, and Mum might not forgive. Might leave them with dirty dishes and wrinkled shirts.
“Alright,” she said. “But rememberIm not staff. Im family
