Marina, love, I heard youre having some money troubles?
Marina is slicing smoked salmon, folding it thoughtfully into pancakes. Her mum is at the hob, flipping pancakes on an old cast iron pan, twisting her wrist with practised grace.
As usual, Marina handles the fillingshe dices the smoked salmon she picked up from the local market, grates some cheese, chops fresh herbs, and spoons sour cream into a small porcelain dish.
The family has gathered at her mums house for the last Sunday in November. Its traditionevery year, the same. Pancakes at mums first, then planning for New Year.
Everyone sits around the big table: her sister Alice and husband Victor, Uncle Robert and Aunt Linda, cousins Alexander and Peter. They all dig into the pancakes, sip piping hot tea, chat, laugh.
“Marina, pass the salmon, will you?” Alice asks, stretching across the table.
“Here you go, help yourself.”
Her sister grabs the plate, serves out a generous portion onto her own pancake.
“This is good salmon. Nice and fatty, must be fresh.”
“I got it at the market. Bit pricey, honestly, but nothing else would do for pancakes.”
Uncle Robert pours himself another mug of tea.
Well then, family, lets discuss the main thing. New Years not far off! Where are we celebrating this time?
Everyone exchanges glances. Alice is first to speak.
“Well, where else? Marinas, of course. Like always. Her place is big enough, everyone can fit comfortably.”
Marina lifts her gaze from her plate, looks at her sister.
“Are there any other options?”
“Not really. We cant all squeeze into a flat, and its tradition by now.”
“Tradition,” Marina repeats softly.
Aunt Linda dabs her mouth with a napkin, puts aside her pancake.
“And, Marina, make your cakethe one you call Prague. No one else can top it. Last year was a treat. Robert and I talked about it for a week afterwards!”
“And more caviar this time,” Uncle Robert adds, sipping his tea. “Last year, it was gone in half an hour. The jar was tiny. Lets have at least two this timemaybe three, just to be safe.”
Marina looks at her familys satisfied faces, their smiles, the buttery marks of pancakes on their lips. Then she glances at her husband.
Hes sitting there, sinking into his phone, not taking part in the conversation. But she notices his tense shoulders. He hears every word. As always, he stays silent.
Her son Max sits with headphones on, nodding to his music. Hes sixteengrown-up talk doesnt interest him at all.
“Well, Marina?” Alice asks again, a bit forcefully. “What do you think?”
“Alright,” Marina says softly.
But inside, something snaps. At home, her husband jumps in as soon as they cross the doorstep.
“Hosting the whole clan again? Seriously, how much longer? Max and I have been asking you to stop for three years now.”
“I dont know,” Marina shrugs off her coat and hangs it up.
“What do you mean? You said yes! Like always. Nodded along, end of story.”
“I said alright. But I never said Id be footing the bill myself.”
He freezes in the hall and stares at her, puzzled.
“What are you planning?”
“Youll see. Im not even sure myself yet. But Ill work something out.”
She marches off to the kitchen, pops the kettle on. Pulls out her laptop and opens up Excel, staring at the blank sheet.
Marina thinks back to last New Year. The meatsturkey and beef. The fishsalmon. The caviarred and black. Shellfishprawns, calamari. Fruitsclementines, grapes, pineapple.
Sweetschocolates, biscuits, marshmallows. CakePrague. She jots down figures in a list, totalling it up, recalculating. Theres also drinks, bread, sauces, coffee, tea, odds and ends.
Then the year before last. Pretty much the same. Before thatit was identical. The total keeps creeping up.
Her husband leans over her shoulder.
“How much is it?”
“See for yourself.”
He glances at the bottom line and whistles quietly.
“Wow. Thats more than I thought. Thats nearly your months salary.”
“More, actually. One and a half. And Im not done counting. Theres still table decorations, candles, napkins, crockerythrow in another couple hundred quid.”
“And youve been doing this every year?”
“Every year. They turn up, eat and drink, have their fun, dont even say a proper thank you. They think its just how things are.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Ill talk to them.”
The next week, Marina rings her sister.
“Alice, we need a chat.”
“About what? You sound strange. Has something happened?”
“About New Year. Can you come over? We need to sort it.”
Alice arrives Saturday morning, clearly uncomfortable. She sits at the kitchen table and takes the mug of tea Marina offers.
“Go on then, whats so urgent?”
Marina takes out the spreadsheet shes printed. Lays it in front of Alice.
“Ive worked out what I spend every year hosting our New Year. Look.”
Alice scans the page, her face a picture.
“But no one asked you to buy black caviar and turkey.”
“Actually, yes. Remember last year? Uncle Robert said chicken was boring. He wanted turkey or goose. So I got turkey. And he asked for extra caviar.”
Alice sips her tea, sets the mug down, eyes Marina with a new expression.
“What are you after?”
“I cant keep paying for the whole thing by myself. So, either we split everything evenly, or each family brings and pays for their own. Ill still do the cooking, we can still have it here, but I wont pay for all of it anymore.”
Alice coughs. Marina hands her a napkin.
“What? Are you serious? Are you skint or something?”
“No. Im just tired of single-handedly covering New Years celebrations for ten peoplethree years in a row!”
“But were family! This isnt some accounting gameyoure not spending on strangers!”
“Its precisely accounting! Im an accountant, remember? The total wasnt pretty.”
“Is something wronghas your husband lost his job? You havent got a loan, have you?”
“Were fine. Were both working. But I want whats fair.”
Alice stands up, paces the kitchen, pauses by the sink, looking away.
“It seems petty, Marina, splitting pennies between family. Were not strangers, you know.”
“Its not small changeits hundreds of pounds every year. Want the breakdown?”
“No need. I get it. You think were just freeloading.”
“I never said that. I said I want to share the costs. Its only fair.”
“Youre basically calling us stingy.”
“Im not accusing anyone. Im just suggesting a fair system. Either we all chip in equally, or this years dinner is just for my own family.”
Alice grabs her bag.
“Youve changed, you know. You used to be kinder.”
“I used to be more naïve! Now I’m just plain tired.”
Next, theres a talk with Uncle Robert. Marina invites him and Aunt Linda for tea and gives them her figures, explaining her point.
Uncle Robert is the most upset. He waves his arms, charges that shes ruining family traditions, claims young people are heartless nowadays, that things werent like this before.
“Marina, what are you playing at? Im on a little pension! I cant afford these luxuries!”
“My salary isnt exactly a kings ransom, but somehow I make it work. Maybe because I plan?”
“Youre insulting us.”
“Hows that? Im just being honest. Something I shouldve said three years back!”
Aunt Linda is the last to talk. Marina calls her next day.
“Marina, darling, I heard you’re running into money problems?”
“None, Aunt Linda. I just dont want to shoulder the whole event for the family anymore.”
“But we’re family, love. Should we really count pennies in a family?”
“We should, and we must! Honesty starts at home.”
“Are you upset with anyone?”
“No, Ive just realised I pay every year for a so-called family celebrationthats really just me bankrolling it. If you want to help, just bring something for the table. Thats what Im asking.”
A week of silence from the clan. Marina starts planning New Years just for her husband and son. She writes a menu for three, draws up a shopping list, and starts picking things up. Her husband supports her, says its long overdue.
Even Max chimes in.
“Mum, youre awesome! At lastthey needed a wake-up call.”
But a week before New Years, on December 24th in the evening, Alice rings. She sounds tense, but not angry.
“Marina, are you in?”
“Home, yeah.”
“Can I pop round?”
“Come over.”
Alice arrives in half an hour. She sits down at the table. Marina pours her some tea and sets out a plate of biscuits.
“Alright. We talked it over. Well do it your way.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll split the costs. Uncle Robert is bringing the drinks. Ill sort the cold meats and fish. Aunt Linda is bringing desserts and fruit. You and Mum, do the mains and sides. Does that work?”
“That works. Thanks, Alice.”
On the 31st, everyone starts arriving early. Uncle Robert drops off several bags of drinks, sets them on the table, then wipes his brow with a handkerchief.
“There you go. Enough, I hope?”
“Plenty, Uncle Robert, thank you.”
Alice brings cold cutssalami, ham, bresaola. Theres home-cured trout, marinated prawns.
“I did my bestbought the nicest stuff!”
“Looks fantastic. Cheers, Alice!”
Aunt Linda carries in a boxed cake from the local bakery, bags of fruit and sweets.
“Ordered the cake specially; everyone says theyre delicious. And the fruits all fresh from the market.”
Marina sets down the main disha golden roast chicken, potatoes with mushrooms, vegetable stew. They all set the table together.
The mood is a little stiff. Alice purses her lips, Uncle Robert mutters something under his breath about the state of todays youth, Aunt Linda sets the tablecloth just so.
But as everyone sits down, the tension starts to melt away. They eat, chat, share news.
By midnight, the atmosphere is almost normal. Laughter, funny stories from the past, everyone making wishes at the stroke of twelve.
Marina watches her family at the tableher husband happily talking fishing with Uncle Robert, her son actually listening instead of hiding behind headphones, even Alice, whos finally cracked a smile, telling some work story.
After midnight, Uncle Robert finds Marina in the kitchen, washing up. He stands beside her, takes a towel and starts drying plates.
“You know, Marina, you were right. Completely.”
“About what, Uncle?”
“About splitting the costs. I never really thought about how much you spend each year. But after doing a shop myselfI get it now.”
Relief floods over Marina. Not the usual exhaustion or frustration shed feel after hosting, wishing she could collapse for days afterward. Actual relief. Almost joy.
She hadnt kept quietshed spoken up, said what needed saying. The family hadnt stormed off, no one cut ties. Theyd accepted the new rules of the game.
Her husband hugs her in the kitchen when everyones drifted off to bed.
“Proud of you, love. I really am.”
“Why?”
“Because you said no. Thats the hardest thingtelling relatives no. And you did more than that. You suggested something fair.”
“I was afraid everyone would be upset. That no one would come. That it would all fall apart.”
“But were all here! Nothing changedexcept now its fair, everyones chipped in.”
Marina nods. Yes, exactly that. Now it really feels like a family celebration, not just her yearly marathon of feeding everyone.
“The tradition isnt lost,” she thinks, “its just different now. Its honest, and fair. Thats my biggest win this year!”
“Dont keep quiet. Dont just grit your teeth. Talk openly about what feels wrong. Find what works for everyone. Thats what I didand I hope you do too…”
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