Open up, we’ve arrived
“Emily, it’s Aunt Margaret!” The voice on the phone shimmered with such forced cheer that it prickled her teeth. “We’re coming to London next week, got a few forms to sort. We’ll stay at yours, for a week or two, all right?”
Emily nearly choked on her tea. No hello, no ‘how are you,’ just: we’ll stay. Not ‘may we’, not ‘is it convenient’. Just: we’ll stay. Full stop.
“Aunt Margaret,” Emily tried to make her voice sound gentle, “lovely to hear from you. About staying why dont I help you find a hotel? There are some really nice ones these days, perfectly affordable.”
“What hotel?” Her aunt snorted, as if Emily had uttered sheer nonsense. “Why waste money? Youve still got that flat from your father! A whole three-bedroom place for just you!”
Emily closed her eyes. Here we go.
“Its my flat, Aunt.”
“Yours?” Her tone sharpened. “And your father what was he then? Not part of our family? Blood isnt water, Emily. Were not strangers, and you want to shove us into a hotel like a pack of mutts!”
“Im not shoving anyone anywhere. I just can’t have guests at the moment, thats all.”
“And why is that?”
Because last time you turned my life into a branch office of hell, Emily thought, but out loud she kept it tactful:
“Things are complicated just now, Aunt Margaret. I cant host you.”
“Complicated, are they?” Now her aunt made no effort to hide her irritation. “Three empty rooms and you say its complicated! Your father would never have slammed the door on family. Youve taken after your mother, that one”
“Aunt”
“Aunt what? We’ll be there Saturday, noonish. Harold and Charles are coming too. Youll welcome us properly.”
“Im saying I cant.”
“Emily!” Her voice became sharp, irrefutable. “This isnt up for debate. See you Saturday.”
Short beeps ricocheted from the phone.
Emily set her mobile down on the table, gazed at it for a minute, then let out a slow breath and sank against the backrest. Always this.
Two years before, Aunt Margaret had “visited” once already. The four of them arrived, saying three days it bled out into two weeks. Emily recalled the fever-dream of it clearly: Harold, her aunts husband, sprawling on the sofa in muddy shoes, switching channels till 3AM. Charles, their oversized son at twenty-three, raiding her fridge and never once washing up. Aunt Margaret herself presiding over the kitchen, critiquing everything from curtains to Emilys “wrong” tiles.
And when they finally left, Emily found a scorched armchair cover, broken bathroom shelf, and mysterious stains in the lounge. Not a word about money, not for food, nor for bills just bags packed, off they went, tossing back: “Thank you, Emily, youre a gem.”
Emily rubbed her temples.
No more of that not again. Aunt Margaret could rant about fathers and family ties till she was blue in the face. If she turned up Saturday, the door would remain shut.
Emily reached for her phone and opened the browser. Time to find them a respectable hotel, one with all the comforts. Send the address, explain thats the extent of her hospitality.
If they couldnt accept that it was no longer her problem.
Two days passed in blissful quiet. Emily worked, took crisp evening walks, cooked solo suppers, almost convinced herself her aunts call had been a nightmare. Perhaps theyd change their minds. Maybe find other family members to descend upon.
On Thursday, near dusk, her phone rang again. Aunt Margaret flashed up, and her stomach tightened.
“Emily, its me!” That hearty voice crashed through the apartment. “Were arriving tomorrow, train gets in at two! Meet us at the station, and set the table, well need a proper meal after the trip!”
Emily slowly perched on the edge of the sofa, her fingers blanching as they gripped the phone.
“Aunt Margaret,” she began, slow and precise, “I already told you. I wont let you stay at my flat. Please dont come.”
“Oh, don’t be so silly!” Her aunt laughed like it was a failed joke. “Stop fussing, honestly. Weve bought the tickets!”
“Thats your concern.”
“Emily, really?” Her bewilderment was quickly swapped for old-fashioned bulldozing. “Youre family! You have to help, thats what familys for!”
“I dont have to do anything.”
“Of course you do! Your father, God rest him”
“Aunt, please, enough about Dad. This is my final word. No.”
Her aunt huffed, a loud, theatrical effort, as if bracing herself for a stubborn child:
“Emily, your opinion doesnt matter here, do you understand? Were family! And youre making yourself out to be our enemy. Tomorrow at two, dont forget!”
“Im saying”
“Alright, see you, love!”
The dial tone hummed.
For several seconds Emily studied the black screen, feeling something hot and surly rising in her chest. She tossed the phone onto the sofa and paced the room three steps out, three back, like a restless animal.
So, her feelings didnt matter. Brilliant. Absolutely splendid.
She stopped short.
Keep your purse wide open, dear auntie.
Emily seized her mobile and scrolled for “Mum” in her contacts.
“Hello? Emily, is something the matter?” Her mothers voice was warm and gently puzzled.
“Mum, hi. Id like to come to yours tomorrow, for a week or so, maybe a bit more.”
Pause.
“Tomorrow? Sweetheart, you were here just last month”
“I know. But its important. I work remotely now, it doesnt matter where I am. Would you have me?”
Her mum was quiet for a moment, and Emily almost pictured her frowning, trying to grasp what was going on.
“Of course. Youre always welcome, you know that. Are you sure youre alright?”
“Yes, Mum. I just miss you, thats all.”
She ended the call and allowed herself a grin. By the time Aunt Margarets clan reached her locked door, shed be long gone. They could ring, thump, scold the whole block but the lady of the house would be absent. Not out at the shops, not round a mates. In a city three hundred miles away.
Emily opened her ticket app. Morning train, 6:45. Perfect. Just as her relatives reached the entrance, shed be sipping tea at her mums kitchen table.
Blood isnt water, but sometimes even family could stand to hear No.
On the train Emily listened to the rattle of the carriage wheels, thinking how Aunt Margarets face might look at that closed door. Her eyelids drooped, her head filled with fog, but she felt unexpectedly at peace.
Her mother met her at the station, bundled her in a hug, took her home. She filled Emily up with scones and clotted cream, poured out hot tea, tucked her into bed.
“Well talk later,” she said, gathering empty cups. “You sleep first.”
Emily drifted into sleep the moment her head touched the pillow.
She woke to the shrill, uncanny chirp of her phone. Her hand fumbled for it on the bedside table, eyes slowly focusing on Aunt Margaret.
“Emily!” Her aunt was shrieking so loudly Emily had to hold the phone away. “Weve been standing at your flat for twenty minutes! Why arent you opening?”
Emily sat up, rubbed her face. The sun was sinking outside shed slept through the whole afternoon.
“Because Im not there,” she replied, unable to stifle a little laugh.
“What do you mean? Where are you?”
“In another city.”
Silence. Then an explosion:
“Youve got a cheek! You knew we were coming and did a runner? How could you?”
“Easily. Told you I wouldnt have you. You didnt listen.”
“You just wait! You must have given someone a spare key! Neighbour, a friend! Ring them, tell them to let us in! Well stay with or without you!”
Emily hesitated. That was bold. That was unreal.
“Aunt, are you serious?”
“Absolutely! Were exhausted, and youre playing games!”
“I have no intention of living with you. Or letting you in behind my back.”
“You little!”
The bedroom door creaked open. Her mother appeared, bathrobe, messy hair, eyes narrowed. Wordlessly she held out her hand, and though Emily couldnt explain why she handed over the phone.
“Margaret,” her mums voice was icily calm, “Its Vera. Listen closely dont interrupt.”
From the mobile came odd bubbling noises.
“Emilys father could never stand you,” her mum continued. “Never once. I knew that more than anyone. So why now are you pestering his daughter? What do you want from her?”
Emily heard her aunt struggling to find words, spluttering.
“Thats enough,” her mum snapped. “Dont ring Emily again. Ever. Shes got plenty of decent people to turn to for help, not you. Conversations finished.”
She pressed End Call and handed the phone back.
Emily stared at her mother as if seeing her for the first time.
“Mum Ive never seen you like that.”
Her mum snorted, straightened her robe.
“Your father taught me that. Said with Margaret youve got to roar once or shell never back off. One good bark keeps her gone for years.”
Then, her mum smiled, and the crinkles around her eyes grew merry.
“Still works, you know?”
Emily burst out laughing, properly laughing, letting all her tension shake loose. Mum joined in with a chuckle.
“Come on then,” she waved toward the kitchen, “lets put the kettle on. Youve got plenty to tell me.”
