“Listen carefully,” her mother’s partner continued, his voice sharp. “Either your daughter hands over the car, or she moves out. I wont live in a house where Im disrespected!” “And where is she supposed to go?” “Not your problem! Shes grown. Time she stood on her own two feet.”
Keira stood in the hallway of her parents home, listening as her mother explained through the bathroom door why she had to give up her car.
“Keira, use your head! Andrew needs it for work every day. Youre just a student. Cant you manage with the bus?”
The girl leaned against the wall, eyes shut tight. The car had been a gift from her grandfather for her twentieth birthdayold, but hers. Her first. Hed said, “So you dont depend on anyone. So you decide where you go.”
“Mum, the cars in my name,” Keira replied evenly.
“So what? Were family!” Her mothers voice rose. “Andrews like a father to you. Remember how he helped you with maths in Year 10?”
Keira remembered. She remembered him shouting over every mistake, slamming the textbook down when she didnt understand instantly.
“Thick as two short planks! Just like your mother!” hed snapped.
From the bathroom came the growl of a hairdryerher mother was getting ready to go out. In five minutes, shed emerge, and the conversation would resume. Keira couldnt face it.
“Ill think about it,” she lied, retreating to her room.
But there was nothing to think about. She wouldnt give up the car. What to do next, thoughthat was unclear.
Keira was in her final year at university, tutoring English on the side. Money was tight, but she scraped by.
If you ignored that her “life” unfolded in a house where every step was scrutinised and criticised.
Andrew had entered their lives when Keira was eleven. Her mother met him at work. Tall, bearded, confident, always talking.
Mum loved that. Dad had been differentquiet, thoughtful. After the divorce, he moved to London, calling rarely.
At first, Andrew tried. Sweets, questions about school, even trips to the cinema. Keira had thought, “Maybe hes not so bad.” It didnt last.
Once Andrew settled in, everything changed. He commanded. Didnt ask, didnt suggestordered. As if Keira were a servant, not the daughter of the house.
“Make tea. Clean up after yourself. Dont stomp. Dont slam doors. Turn the telly down.” The list grew daily.
And Mum Mum became Andrews advocate. Any complaint of his, she echoed and amplified.
“Keira, Andrews tired from work. Cant you walk quieter?”
“Keira, hes right. Why play music so loud?”
“Keira, think of others.”
“Others” meant Andrew. When Keira begged for quiet to study, no one cared.
“Were not in a library,” Andrew said. “Want silence? Stay in your room.”
Keiras room was tiny, a converted storage space. Just a bed and desk. The walls pressed in, the air felt thin. But there was no alternative.
She learned to be invisible. Came home when Andrew was asleep or out. Ate in the kitchen when alone. Avoided family conversations.
It workeduntil the car.
The next morning, Mum knocked.
“Keira? We need to talk.”
Keira sat up. Mum wore a new dress, clearly expensive, hair neatly styled. She was going somewhere.
“Go on.”
“Andrew was upset last night. He thought youd agree about the car.”
“Why would he think that?”
Mum sat on the bed, gazing out the window.
“Keira, were planning a wedding. We want it nice, with guests. Moneys you know how it is.”
Keira stayed silent.
“Andrew needs the car for work. Hes got a new role, lots of travel. Buses wont do.”
“Let him buy his own.”
“With what?” Mums voice rose, then she checked herself. “Keira, were family! Andrews done so much for you”
“Like what?”
Mum faltered. Fumbled for words.
“Well he raised you. Helped with homework”
“You mean shouted at me.”
“Dont you dare! He tried! Youve always been ungrateful. Your dad spoiled you, thats the problem.”
The room fell silent. Keira stared, no longer recognising her. Once, Mum had protected hernot some stranger.
“Im not giving up the car,” Keira said.
“Then find somewhere else to live,” Mum replied coldly, and left.
Keira sat alone, chest tight, breath shallow. Shed never imagined it would come to this.
That evening, Andrew returned, and the performance began. Keira heard through the thin wall.
“Well? Spoke to your daughter?”
“I did. She refused.”
“Right. Shouldve been stricter. Too much coddling.”
“Andrew, shes young. She doesnt understand.”
“When will she? When shes a mother herself? No, Linda. If we dont put her in her place now, shell walk all over us.”
Mum murmured something too quiet to catch.
“Listen carefully,” Andrew said. “Either she hands over the car, or shes out. I wont live where Im disrespected!”
“And where will she go?”
“Not your problem. Shes grown. Time she stood on her own two feet.”
Keira lay awake till dawn, wondering: Would Mum really choose him?
The answer came two days later. Mum entered her room, stern-faced.
“Keira, weve decided. If you wont compromise, youll live separately.”
“Youre serious?”
“Dead serious. Youre an adult, you workyou can rent.”
Keira held her mothers gaze.
“Fine. Ill go.”
Mum clearly expected tears, pleas, a scene. Not calm acceptance.
“Keira maybe think again?”
“Think about what? Youve made your choice. Now Im making mine.”
Finding a place took less than a week. A cheap but clean room near campus, shared with an elderly teacher who asked no questions.
Packing, Keira felt Mums eyes on her.
“Maybe this is a mistake”
“Mum, dont. Its right.”
“You know I didnt want to force you out. But Andrew”
“Andrew matters more. I get it.”
Mum wept.
“Dont say that. Youre my daughter.”
“Was.” Keira folded books into a box.
The first weeks were hard. Not the choresshe adapted quickly. Harder was knowing her mother had chosen a stranger over her.
But life settled. More tutoring clients, enough for rent and small luxuries.
She ate when she wanted. Played music. Invited friends over. No orders, no criticism, no drama.
Mum called rarely, mostly on holidays.
“How are you, Keira? All right?”
“All right.”
“Maybe visit sometime?”
“Maybe.”
She never did. Mum understood.
Six months passed. Keira had adjusted when Mum called late one evening, voice oddtired or sad.
“Keira, can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Of course.”
Mum arrived within the hour, looking awfulthin, dark-eyed. Sat silently at the table.
“Whats wrong?”
“Andrew left.”
“What?”
“For another woman. From work. Ten years younger.”
Keira made tea.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago. I thought hed come back. Yesterday he fetched his things and said hes filing for divorce.”
Mum cried quietly, exhausted.
“Was I stupid?”
Keira said nothing. What was there to say?
They drank in silence. Then Mum asked,
“Can I stay tonight? I cant face home.”
“Of course. Sofas yours.”
That night, Keira heard her crying. She almost went to comfort herbut something held her back. Too much hurt.
Over breakfast, Mum said,
“Keira, I know I was wrong. I chose him over you. Im sorry.”
“Mum”
“No, let me speak. I thought I needed a man, no matter the cost. Even if it cost us. I thought I was nothing without one. Now I see: better alone than with someone who poisons your life.”
Keira nodded.
“Will you come home?” Mum asked softly.
“No. Im settled here. And Im different now. Not who I was.”
“Different how?”
“Independent. Free of others moods. And I like it.”
Mum sighed.
“Will we talk? Meet sometimes?”
“We
