My dear Emily, please! Im begging you! Its a matter of life and death, truly! Ive no one else to turn tomums up at the cottage, her blood pressures playing up, and I cant worry her. Youre my favourite sister-in-law, the one who really understands! Sarah rattles off so quickly that her words blend into a single, breathless stream. Emily only just manages to catch snippets about urgent business, just until this evening, and please, Im desperate.
Emily stands at her own front door, a duster in one hand and, with the other, trying to restrain Barney, her excitable terrier, whos yapping ferociously at the unexpected visitors. Standing before her are her sister-in-law, Sarah, and Sarahs two sons: seven-year-old Joshua and four-year-old Toby. The boys, already, have tracked mud across the hallway rug and are now merrily picking at the wallpaper.
Sarahhold onwhat do you mean this evening? Its Friday! Emily breaks into the monologue. Tom and I had plans, remember? Were supposed to head out of town for the weekend. Weve had a spa hotel booked for months!
Sarah throws up her hands, nearly dropping the massive bag balanced on her shoulderclearly packed with childrens things.
Oh, whats a spa weekend! Youre young, youll have loads more chances! But right now, something huge has landed in my lap. Ive got an interviewin another city. Its a top job, flexible hours, salarys to die for. If I dont go this instant, the chance is gone forever! Im doing it for the boys, to make sure theyre provided for! No husband, only a pittance in child support. You know how it is.
She gives a little sniff and puts on her most forlorn single mother faceher tried-and-tested move.
At that moment, Tom, Emilys husband, wanders in from the kitchen, munching a sandwich. He freezes at the sight of his sister and nephews.
Sarah? What are you doing here? Were supposed to leave in an hour.
Tommy! Oh, pleasebe a hero! Its desperate; I only need you to watch the boys for one night. I swear, Ill be back by lunchtime tomorrow, cross my heart! Joshua and Toby wont give you a moments bother. Just put the telly on and give them some biscuitstheyre absolute angels.
Tom shoots a helpless look at Emilya mixture of sympathy for his sister and terror of a brewing row. Always soft-hearted, Tom is, and Sarah knows exactly how to work him.
Em, maybe we could shift our plans? Sarahs trying to get her life sorted, its important, Tom starts uncertainly.
Our bookings non-refundable, Emily replies quietly, but firmly. And Im absolutely shattered after this week.
Ill make it up to you! Sarah interjects swiftly. First pay packet, Ill pay you backall of it. Ill host a dinner! Please! Where else am I going to put them? Leave them in care for the weekend?
Just then Toby lets out an enormous sneeze, smearing his nose on his sleeve. Joshua, meanwhile, sneaks into the lounge and cranks the TV volume to maximum.
Fine, Emily sighs, barely keeping her frustration in check. Lunchtime tomorrow, Sarah. No later than two. If youre not here, well drive them out to your mums place, and I dont give a toss about her blood pressure.
Youre a marvel! An angel! Sarah plants a sticky lipstick kiss on Emilys cheek, drops the boys jackets on the floor, thrusts a bag into Toms arms, and flutters out the door without even saying goodbye to her sons. Text me if you need, love you all!
The door slams, and silence falls, broken only by an advert blaring from the TV.
Well then, Tom says sheepishly. There goes our relaxing weekend.
Its all right, Emily says, heading to the kitchen, avoiding the muddy prints in the hall. Just one day. Lets just hope they dont wreck the flat.
For a few hours, things are surprisingly peaceful. The boys, thrilled with the giant telly and bowl of sweets, are quiet as mice. Emily unpacks Sarahs bag. It contains two outfits, one pair of tights for both boys to share, a battered tablet, and a multipack of cheap crisps. No medicines, no favourite toys, nothing substantial to eat.
She didnt even pack pyjamas, Emily mutters, sifting through the clothes. Or toothbrushes.
Ill nip to the shop, Tom offers at once. Well need brushes, milk, some cereal. Theyll need breakfast.
Evening arrivesand so does tensionwhen Toby, full of sweets, revolts against his tea.
Dont want stew! he howls, smearing mashed potato around the table. I want chicken nuggets! Mum always gives nuggets!
We havent got nuggets, Emily says, wiping the table between clenched teeth. Try my meatballs, theyre lovely.
Disgusting! Toby flings the plate onto the floor.
Barney joyfully leaps to gobble it up, as Emily grits her teeth and fetches a cloth. Seeing his brothers antics, Joshua pushes away his own plate.
Im not eating that either. Uncle Tom, order us a pizza.
Pizzas not healthy, Tom says, ineffectually wielding a parental tone. Eat what Auntie Emily made you.
Mum says cookings for losers. Get a takeaway, much easier, Joshua declares with the matter-of-fact wisdom of a seven-year-old.
Emily and Tom exchange a glance. Its going to be a long night.
By the time theyve coaxed the boys into bedusing Toms old t-shirts as pyjamas and the sofa bed as a fortressthey collapse into theirs, knackered.
Tomorrow, by two, shell collect them. Then we might manage the cinema at least, Emily chants, like a mantra.
Of course, we will, Tom reassures, hugging her. She just gets a bit well, disorganised. But she means well, really.
Saturday dawns at seven with chaos as Joshua, rummaging through kitchen cupboards, drops an entire tin of rice all over the floor.
Accident, he grumbles when a sleep-rumpled Emily appears.
Thats all right, she counts to ten. Get the dustpan and brush; you can help.
I dont know how. Mum does all the cleaning. Or gran when she’s here. Im a bloke.
By two in the afternoon, the flat looks like a disaster zone. Lacking toys, the boys use sofa cushions for a fort, Emilys magazines for a craft project (i.e., shredding), and try to train Barneywho promptly escapes to the top of the wardrobe.
Lunch is ready. Their things are packed. Emily keeps checking the clock.
2:00. No sign.
2:30. Still nothing.
Ring her, Emily tells Tom.
Tom phones, but all he gets is The person you are calling is temporarily unavailable.
Probably on the train? Sometimes you lose signal on the way, Tom suggests.
What interview, Tom? On a Saturday? Emilys arms fold across her chest. Do you even believe her?
They wait until evening. Sarah’s phone remains off. Toby starts sniffling for his mum; Joshua gets stroppy, demanding the tabletwhich is flat, of course, and no charger packed.
Shes not coming tonight, Emily says, watching dusk settle outside. This is outrageous, Tom.
Maybe her phone died, or the coach broke down? Something must have happened, Tom tries to defend, growing paler by the minute. He knows Emily is at breaking point.
That night is harrowing. Toby wets the sofa; Emily has to strip the sheets and scrub the mattress. Joshua insists the hall light stays on for fear of monsters. Emily doesnt sleep a wink.
Sunday. Still radio silence.
Im phoning your mum, Emily snaps at breakfast.
Dont! Please! Toms panicked. Shes only just got over a health scareif she finds out, it could set her off again. Lets just wait till tonight. She wouldnt abandon them forever, surely?
Tom, were both back at work tomorrow. Ive got deadlines, I need to be in the office at eight. Whos going to look after them?
Ill take a personal day, Tom promises.
That afternoon, the thing Emily dreads happens: Toby, charging about, catches his foot on a vasea wedding gift from her parents. The sound of shattering glass seems to echo for miles.
It was Toby! Joshua pipes up at once. Nothing to do with me!
Emily silently sweeps up. Tears would be a relief, but all she feels is a cold fury. She cleans up, then finds Tom brooding in the bedroom.
If she doesnt come by tomorrow morning, Im reporting it. If shes abandoned her kids, Childrens Services will be involved.
Em! You cant do thatits my sister. What about the boys? Youd dump them into care?
I just want your sister to take responsibility for her own children! Emily shouts. Were not their full-time nannies! This is our life, Tom, not hers. Weve lost our weekend, our peace, our stuff, our sanityjust because she fancied a jolly.
Oh, thats not fair. Shes working
Working? Emily grabs her phone. Take a look at this.
She pulls up social media. Sarahs profile is private, but Emilys friend Jane is also connected with her. And there, in Janes recommended posts, sits a fresh photo.
Theres Sarahin a swimsuit, cocktail in hand, pool behind her, tagged at The Willow Spa & Retreat, an upmarket spa hotel. Posted three hours ago: Girls weekend! So well-deserved!
Tom stares, face turning an alarming shade.
It must be old, he mumbles.
Today’s date, Tom. And that swimsuits from this season I saw it in John Lewis last week, Emily shoots back. She lied. Brazenly. She palmed the boys off and went for a weekend away.
Tom sits heavily, head in his hands.
What do we do?
I told you what Id do. Tomorrow, Im bringing the boys to my office; you call your mum, and she can pick up her grandsons. Either she drags her daughter out of that pool, or I ring Social Services. Ive had enough.
The Sunday night is the worst. Toby comes down with a feverstress, strange food, and drafts cant have helped. The thermometer reads 38.5°C. Emily is up all night with cold flannels and water, not sleeping a wink. Tom, too, paces restlessly.
At seven on Monday morning, Sarahs phone finally comes online.
Shes online! Tom blurts, instantly dialling.
Hello? Sarahs groggy voice grumbles.
Sarah! Where the hell are you? Tom all but shouts, waking Joshua in the next room. What have you done?!
Oh, dont get so wound up, its early! The interview overran, I had to stay longer. I told you, its important.
What sort of interview happens at a spa hotel? In a bikini, with cocktails? Weve seen the pictures! Tobys burning up with a fever!
Theres a pause.
So now youre stalking me? Cant a woman have her own life? Maybe I met someone! Is Toby ill? What did you feed him? I left them perfectly healthy! If anything happens to him, Ill sue you!
You will get here. Now. Otherwise, Im calling Social Services, Toms voice is like iceEmilys never heard him like this.
Fine, Im coming! Drama queens, the lot of you!
Sarah storms in three hours later. By then Emily has already rung her work and taken the day offcouldnt leave a sick child, nor drag him to the office.
Sarah breezes in, smelling of posh perfume and crisp laundry, tanned and fresh. She sweeps over to Toby on the sofa.
My poor baby! What have they done to you? Starved you? Let you catch cold? She rounds on Emily, eyes blazing with resentment. Should never have trusted you to look after my kidsyouve not got children of your own, so what would you know about it!
Emily sees redthat cuts deep. She and Tom have tried for a baby for three years, theyve done every test, every treatment. Sarah knows this.
Get. Out, Emily says quietly.
What? Sarah is momentarily rattled.
Out of my house. Take your boys, and dont come back. Ever.
As if I want to! Sarah snorts, angrily shoving childrens things into a bag. Come on, Joshua, Toby. Were off to somewhere people love us. Ill get you some nice toys, and treats…
You owe us money, Tom blocks her path.
What money? Sarah blinks.
The vase£50. Food£30. Medicine for Toby£10. And a fortune in stress, but consider that a freebie. Thats £90. Transfer it now.
Youre joking! Your own sister?
You had enough for a spa weekend; youll find it for your debts. Or I call mum and tell her everything. Interview, cocktails, the poolthe lot. Ill send the photos.
Sarah scowls, pulls out her phone, and jabs at it furiously.
Hope you choke on it! A ping notifies Tom of the bank transfer. Youll never see us again! Youre no help!
She grabs Toby, pushes Joshua ahead, and storms out, slamming the door.
Emily sinks onto the sofa. The flat still stinks of childrens medicine and sweet wrappers, and a greasy meatball stain still marks the wall.
Tom sits beside her and takes her hand.
Im sorry, he says heavily. I was an idiot.
Youre not an idiot, Emily says, resting her head on his shoulder. Youre a brother. But now you know the price of her favours.
I do. Never again. Promise.
They sit quietly for half an hour. Then, wordlessly, they set about cleaning. Mopping, washing, opening windows. The apartment, at last, feels like theirs again, as if their aching tension is finally swept out with the rubbish.
In the evening, Toms mum, Linda, calls.
Emily, love, its Linda Sarahs been on the phonecrying. Says you threw her out, wanted money for babysitting, wouldnt help family Could it possibly be true? Families ought to look after each other
Emily sighs. Once, shed have scrambled to justify herself, trying to comfort her mother-in-law. But three days of madness have changed her.
Linda, theres more to it than Sarah told you. If youd like the truth, just ask which hotel she was interviewing atin her swimsuit. Or pop around when youre feeling better, and Joshua can tell you all about ‘Mum never cooksonly losers cook’. Weve a lot to talk about.
Theres a long silence.
Oh Emily I get it now. Dont be cross with her, loveshes spoilt, thats my fault.
Were not cross, Linda. Weve just learnt our lesson.
Emily hangs up.
Fancy takeaway pizza? she says to Tom, whos watching her, worried. One of those dreadful, huge ones. And a bottle of wine. Weve earned it.
What about the spa weekend? Tom asks.
Well go next week. Phones offboth of them.
And so they do. And when Sarah appears on Toms phone the following Friday, he simply flips it face-down and leaves it on silent. Lesson learned, boundaries set. Sometimes, the best way to keep your family close is from a safe distance.
Thank you for reading this to the end!
