Trending Link

La vida

Never Forgiven

I was perched in my little cottage clinic, listening to the floorboards groantap, tap, tap, tapas if

La vida

014

My Father-in-Law Was Speechless When He Saw the Conditions We Were Living In

My father-in-law is speechless when he sees how were living I met my husband at a mutual friends wedding.

La vida

011

“We’re going to stay at your place for a while, since we can’t afford to rent a flat!” – My friend declared. I’m a lively woman – even at 65, I still manage to travel widely and meet fascinating people. I look back on my youth with a bittersweet nostalgia: those days when holidays meant going wherever the mood took you! You could spend summer by the seaside, go camping with friends, or set off on a river cruise – all for next to nothing. Sadly, those days are gone. I’ve always loved meeting new people; beach walks, theatre nights – I’ve kept in touch with many acquaintances for years. One day, I met a woman called Sarah while staying at a guesthouse. We parted as good friends and kept in touch by letter every so often. Years passed – until out of the blue I received a mysterious telegram: “The train arrives at three in the morning. Meet me!” No clue as to who it was from. Naturally, my husband and I didn’t go. But at four in the morning, the doorbell rang. To my astonishment, there stood Sarah—plus two teenage girls, a grandmother, and a man, all laden with bags and boxes. We invited them in, bewildered. Sarah asked me: “Why didn’t you meet us? I sent a telegram! And it wasn’t cheap! – Sorry, but we didn’t know who sent it! – Well, you gave me your address. I’m here. – I thought we’d just write letters, that’s all!” Sarah explained one of the girls had just finished school, and the family had all come along to help her start university life. “We’ll be living at your place! We haven’t got the money for a flat or hotel!” I was stunned. We weren’t even related – why should we let them move in? Worse still, we ended up feeding them three times a day. They brought a few groceries, but they didn’t cook; instead they helped themselves to whatever we had, and I was running around after everyone. After three days I couldn’t take it any more and asked Sarah and her family to leave – I didn’t care where they went. Cue a dramatic row: Sarah smashed dishes and screamed hysterically. I was gobsmacked by their behaviour. When they finally packed up, they managed to abscond with my dressing-gown, some towels, and even a large saucepan – no clue how they got it out. But it vanished all the same! That was the abrupt end of our friendship – and thank heavens! I’ve never seen or heard from her again. How could anyone be so shameless? These days, I’m far more careful about befriending strangers.

Well be staying at yours for a while, since we havent got enough money to rent a flat! my friend declared.

La vida

Barred Her Daughter from Home — “But why didn’t you let her in?” Veronica finally dared to ask the question that had tormented her most. “You always used to before…” Her mother gave a bitter smile. “Because I’m scared for you, Nicky. You think we don’t notice how you hide in the corner when your sister barges in in the middle of the night? The way you hide your textbooks so she won’t ruin them? She looks at you and she’s angry, angry because you’re normal. You have another life ahead of you, and she drowned hers in a bottle long ago…” Veronica hunched her shoulders, frozen over her open schoolbook—as in the next room, the shouting started once again. Her father hadn’t even taken his coat off—he stood in the hallway, gripping his mobile and yelling. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes!” he roared into the phone. “Where’s all your money gone? It’s been two weeks since payday! Two weeks, Claire!” Tanya peered out of the kitchen. She listened to her husband’s tirade for a moment, then asked: “Again?” Valerie just waved a hand and switched the phone to speaker—immediate wailing from the speaker. Veronica’s older sister had always been able to wring pity from a stone. But years of misery had built their parents a thick skin. “What do you mean, ‘he threw you out’?” Valerie paced the narrow hallway. “He did the right thing. Who would put up with your drunken state forever? Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re thirty and look like a battered dog.” Veronica edged her bedroom door open two centimeters. “Dad, please…” the sobbing suddenly stopped. “He threw my things into the stairwell. I’ve nowhere to go. It’s raining, it’s cold… I’ll come stay with you, alright? Just for a couple nights. I just need to sleep it off.” Her mother lunged forward to grab the phone but Valerie jerked away. “No!” he snapped. “You won’t darken our door again. We had an agreement, didn’t we? An agreement. After you pawned the telly when we were away at the cottage, I told you: the door to this house is shut!” “Mum! Mum, say something!” came desperate shrieking from the phone. Tanya covered her face. Her shoulders shook. “Claire, how could you…” she murmured, not meeting her husband’s gaze. “We took you to the doctor, you promised. Last time they said the treatment would last three years. You didn’t even last a month!” “Those treatments are rubbish!” Claire snapped, her tone flipping from pitiful to aggressive. “They just drain your money! I feel awful, can’t you see? I’m just burning up inside, I can barely breathe! And you care about the telly… You love it more than me! I’ll buy you a new one!” “With what money?” Valerie stared blankly at the wall. “What, borrowed from your dodgy friends again? Or did you nick something from that latest boyfriend of yours?” “Does it matter?” Claire yelled. “Dad, I’ve nowhere to go! Do you want me to sleep under a bridge?” “Find a hostel. Go where you want,” her father replied, voice frighteningly calm. “But you aren’t coming here. I’ll change the locks if you so much as come near.” Veronica sat huddled on her bed, hugging her knees. Normally, when her older sister drove their parents to rage, the anger would ricochet to her. “And what are you doing? On your phone again? Are you going to turn out like your sister, utterly useless?”—a phrase she’d heard for the past three years. But tonight, nobody noticed her. No one yelled, no one snapped. Her father hung up, got undressed, and her parents retreated into the kitchen. Veronica tiptoed into the hallway. “Val, you can’t do this,” her mother pleaded. “She’ll end up lost. Completely lost. You know what she’s like when she’s… in that state.” “Am I supposed to be responsible for her?” her father slammed the kettle on. “I’m fifty-five, Tanya. I’d just like to come home and relax in my chair. I’m tired of hiding my wallet under the pillow! Of hearing about her scaring the neighbours or bringing home God only knows who!” “She’s our daughter,” her mother said quietly. “She was—once. Now she just drains us dry. She’s a drunk, Tanya. Nothing helps if she doesn’t want to help herself. And she doesn’t. She likes her life. Wake up, find a bottle, pass out—repeat.” The phone started ringing again. They fell silent for a second, then Valerie answered. “Hello.” “Dad…” It was Claire again. “I’m sat at the station. The police are making the rounds. If I stay, they’ll take me away. Please…” “Listen closely,” he interrupted her. “You are not coming home. End of.” “So what, I might as well kill myself?” Claire’s voice turned sharp. “Is that what you want? A call from the morgue?!” Veronica froze. That was Claire’s trump card, played whenever she ran out of arguments. It used to work. It used to make their mother sob, their father clutch his chest—and Claire would get her way. Money, a bed, food, and a bath. But tonight, her father didn’t flinch. “Don’t threaten us,” he said. “You care too much about yourself for that. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll find you a room. The cheapest, at the edge of town. I’ll pay for one month. I’ll give you a little for groceries. That’s it. You sort yourself out. Get a job, get clean—you’ll manage. If not, in a month you’re out, and that’s your problem.” “A ROOM? Not even a flat? I can’t live alone, Dad. I’m frightened. The other tenants could be dodgy. Besides, what am I meant to do—I’ve got nothing, all my stuff’s still at his place!” “Your mother will put some bedding in a bag. Leave it with the concierge. You collect it. Don’t come up—I’ve warned you.” “You’re beasts!” Claire screamed. “You’re sending your own daughter into some dive! You live in a three-bed house and I’m supposed to scurry around like a rat?” Her mother snapped, grabbed the phone. “Claire, ENOUGH!” she shouted, so loudly Veronica jumped. “Your dad’s right! This is your last chance. Room or street. Choose now, or tomorrow you won’t even have the room!” A long silence on the line. “Fine,” Claire muttered at last. “Send me the address. And some money—transfer it now, I’m starving.” “No money,” Valerie cut in. “I’ll buy food and leave it in the bag. I know what you’d spend the cash on.” He hung up. Veronica decided it was time. She slipped into the kitchen, pretending she just needed a drink. She braced for their anger to descend on her. Her dad would comment on her messy T-shirt. Her mum would scold her for loafing about when they had all these problems. But neither parent looked up. “Veronica,” her mother said quietly. “Yes, Mum?” “There’s old sheets and pillowcases in the cupboard, top shelf. Please get them and pack them in the blue bag in the closet.” “Alright, Mum.” Veronica got the bag, shook out the junk. She couldn’t fathom how Claire would manage on her own. She didn’t even know how to cook pasta. And her bad habit… Veronica was sure her sister wouldn’t last two days without a bottle. She climbed a stool in her parents’ bedroom to fetch the bedlinen. “Don’t forget towels!” her father shouted from the kitchen. “They’re in already,” Veronica replied. She saw her father grab his shoes and head out, taking the bag and the groceries. Must be off to find that “dive”. Veronica went to the kitchen. Her mum hadn’t moved. “Mum, do you want your tablets?” Veronica approached gently. Her mother looked at her. “You know, Nicky,” she began in a strange, blank voice, “When she was little I thought, she’ll grow up and be my help. We’ll chat about everything and anything. And now I sit here and just pray she remembers that address. Just gets there safely…” “She’ll manage,” Veronica said, perching on the edge of the chair. “She always does.” “Not this time,” her mother shook her head. “Her eyes have changed. Dead. Like nothing’s inside anymore—just a shell, craving the drink. And I can see you’re afraid of her…” Veronica was silent. She’d always felt her parents didn’t care about her, too busy saving “lost” Claire. “I thought you didn’t care,” she whispered. Her mother reached out and stroked her hair. “We care. We just have nothing left. You know how on a plane, they say—put your own mask on first, then your child’s? We spent ten years trying to fix her, Nicky. Ten years! Rehabs, healers, expensive clinics. In the end, we almost suffocated ourselves.” The doorbell rang. Veronica startled. “It’s her?” she whispered. “No, Dad has the key. Probably the grocery delivery. He ordered food.” Veronica took the bags to the kitchen and unpacked them. Porridge oats, tins, oil, tea, sugar. Nothing unnecessary. “She won’t eat this,” Veronica said, putting aside the buckwheat. “She only likes ready-made stuff.” “If she wants to live—she’ll learn to cook,” her mother snapped, finding her strength for a moment. “Enough mollycoddling her. We’ll only bury her with kindness.” An hour later, her father returned, looking utterly broken. “Sorted,” he said curtly. “Keys are with me. The landlady’s an old schoolmarm, very strict. She said if there’s any trouble, she’ll kick her out straight away. I told her to do exactly that.” “Valerie…” her mother sighed. “What, Valerie? Enough lies. Let’s be honest.” He snatched up the bag and the food parcels and headed off again. “I’ll drop this off with the concierge. I’ll ring her and tell her where to collect it. Veronica, lock the door behind me. If Claire rings the house, don’t answer.” He left. Her mother shut herself in the kitchen and broke down. Veronica’s heart clenched. How did it come to this? Claire didn’t live, she just existed between binges, and made everyone suffer. *** Their hopes proved false—a week later, the landlady rang Valerie to say she’d thrown the lodger out, with the police. Claire had brought three men back and partied all night. Once more, her parents couldn’t abandon her—Claire was sent to a rehabilitation centre. Closed, secure—they promised a year would get her sober. Who knows, maybe a miracle will happen after all…

Not Allowed Over the Threshold Why didnt you let her in? Nicola finally dared to ask the question that

La vida

028

The Quiet Mouse is Happier Than You

Mary, come on, be serious Claire stared at my old cotton dress like it was some questionable antique

La vida

010

Stay Still, Speak Not, Danger Awaits: The Young Woman Without…

Stay still, dont say a word, youre in danger. The ragclad young woman with tangled hair and mudsplattered

La vida

020

My Father-in-Law Was Speechless When He Saw the Shocking Conditions We Were Living In

Diary Entry The memory still seems so fresh. I first met my husband at a mutual friends wedding in London.

La vida

026

Came Home Early: A Heavily Pregnant Wife’s Surprise Visit Turns Awkward When Her Husband Prefers a Spotless Flat to Welcoming Her at the Door

Came Home Early “Are you at the bus stop?” Simon’s voice shot up an octave. “

La vida

A Country Home of Contention – A Daughter Finally Reclaims What’s Rightfully Hers

The Summerhouse Obstacle She Got Back What Was Hers Hannah, you have to understand, the situation is

La vida

Reaching Seventy: A Single Father Reflects on Raising Three Children Alone After His Wife Passed Away Thirty Years Ago.

Arthur finally hit the big sevenzero, having raised three children. His wife, Margaret, had passed away