Relatives took offence when I refused to let them stay overnight in my new flat
Charlotte, are you not listening? I said weve got the tickets already train gets in at six oclock Saturday morning. Make sure youre up in time to meet us, dont oversleep! Well have bags, and you know Emmas coming with the children. Taxis cost a fortune these days, and youve got a big car thatll fit all of us, Aunt Gails voice thundered from the other end of the line, so boisterous it drowned out even the sound of the bathwater Charlotte had started running in the hopes of a quiet night in.
Charlotte stood frozen in the hallway of her freshly painted, pristine new flat, the phone pressed between ear and shoulder. Shed had the keys for just a month. Two decades to pay off the mortgage, three years of scraping by, spurning every extra coffee and turning a blind eye to new dresses, half a year of renovations, during which she learned to plaster walls and could now tell the difference between all manners of wooden flooring better than any site-manager. This place was her fortress. Her hard-won haven. In this bright, immaculate flat, everything had a proper place, not a fleck of dust in sight. She had planned her first weekend in peace, the quiet only interrupted by the occasional sigh as she gazed out at the London skyline through the wide windows.
Hold on, Aunt Gail, Charlotte finally found her voice, turning off the tap and making her way to the kitchen, where a mug of chamomile tea sat unfinished on the table. What tickets? What train? I havent invited anyone over.
The pause on the other end was thick and heavy, a silence you could almost reach out and touch. Then Aunt Gail sucked in a huge breath Charlotte could almost hear the whistle, a storm about to break.
What do you mean havent invited us? Charlotte, have you lost your senses? We have a reason its Uncle Michaels seventieth! He lives in your city, dont you remember? The whole familys gathering. Why would we waste money on a hotel when our own niece lives in a palace? Your mother told us youd finally bought a three-bed flat, finished the renovations and all. So were coming me, Uncle Colin, Emma with her husband and the twins. Just six of us, well squeeze in. Dont fuss just toss down some duvets on the floor, we arent fussy people.
Charlotte perched on a high kitchen stool, feeling a pulse start to throb at her temple. Six people. Aunt Gail, who snored like a freight train and took command in any kitchen. Uncle Colin, who drank a bit too much and insisted on smoking on balconies (Charlottes balcony was part of the living room right next to her favourite reading chair). Emma, her cousin, who permitted her five-year-old tornado twins to do pretty much as they fancied, from drawing on walls to bouncing across furniture. And Emmas husband, the perpetually sullen Bernard whod happily clear out anyones fridge.
Aunt Gail, Charlotte started, eyes fixed on her perfect, ivory kitchen cabinets, I cant put you all up. The renovation only just finished; I havent even got all the furniture in. Nowhere to sleep. Im working too Ive got a report due at the weekend.
Oh, dont start making things up! Aunt Gail protested, full of offence. Reports, honestly. Its Saturday and Sunday, not workdays! Furnitures no bother, I said wed bring our own duvets, well make do. What, you wont let your own auntie in? We looked after you! I gave you that lovely porcelain doll when you were five, remember?
That same old porcelain doll Charlotte had heard about it every time her aunt wanted something. Never mind the doll had been missing a leg, purchased on clearance, but in family legend, it was a treasure worthy of a king.
Aunt Gail, I do understand, but my answer is still no. The flat is new, Im not ready for guests, especially not that many. Besides, Uncle Michael lives on the other side of London it would take an hour and a half to get there from mine. It would make much more sense to rent a flat or an Airbnb near him. I can help you find something and send you links.
Just listen to her! Aunt Gail shrieked. Sending us links! So proper now, all city-fied! Bought a flat and sticks her nose in the air? Doesnt want to know her own kin! If it werent for us, youd
Aunt Gail, Charlotte cut in, summoning a cold, steady resolve, Im not sticking my nose in the air. Im simply saying I wont have you all stay. Thats my decision. Please dont buy tickets expecting to stay with me. I wont open the door.
She cut off the call before she could hear another round of complaints, her hands trembling. Charlotte knew things wouldnt end there. The heavy artillery would soon follow.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, her mother rang, voice sharp and without a greeting.
Charlotte, have you lost your mind? Gails ringing me in hysterics, her blood pressures through the roof. She says you turned them away!
Mum, I havent turned anyone away. I simply said I cant put up a caravan of six. The flats new, the walls are pristine, the flooring was expensive. You remember Emmas twins last time? At Nans, they painted the cat green with antiseptic and tipped the telly over, and Emma just smiled and said, Theyre learning about the world. Id rather they didnt learn about the world in my flat.
But Charlotte, theyre family! her mum replied gently, as if explaining the obvious to a stubborn child. Its just two days, throw down an old blanket, hide the vases. Youll keep the peace that way. Gail will tell everyone how heartless youre being, and Ill feel ashamed to face people at church!
Well, I wont be ashamed, Charlotte said. Why must I sacrifice my peace and property so Aunt Gail can save a couple of hundred pounds on a hotel room? Theyre coming for a birthday, theyve got money for presents and train fare, so they can find accommodation too.
Youre selfish, her mum sighed bitterly. Just like your father. He always put himself first. Mark my words: youll end up all alone, and no one will bring you a glass of water.
Better to pour my own, Charlotte muttered, than scrub the place top to bottom after family love.
She switched off her phone.
The week passed in a haze. The family fell quiet. No messages from Aunt Gail, no angry WhatsApps from Emma. Charlotte dared to hope theyd seen sense at last and booked somewhere else, or perhaps changed their minds. She comforted herself no means no.
Saturday dawned bright and peaceful. Charlotte slept in, brewed coffee, slipped into her favourite silk dressing gown and wandered into her lounge. The morning sun danced through the windows, glimmered on the vase. Silence, calm, perfection. She intended to read all day, order a Chinese, and maybe take a long bubble bath in the evening.
The buzzer sounded at nine sharp, sharp and insistent.
Charlotte jumped, nearly spilling her coffee onto her cream rug. Her heart dropped. She already knew who it was. On the little video screen, there was no mistaking the cluster of faces huge tartan bags, Aunt Gails flushed, determined face, Uncle Colin in his flat cap pushed off his forehead, and the children already mashing every button on the panel.
Charlotte! Surprise! Open up! Aunt Gail bellowed, noticing the light was on the camera. Come on were boiling after that journey, let us in for a glass of water at least!
Charlotte leaned back against the wall. Theyd come anyway. Ignored everything she said, hoping shed cave in at the sight of them. The oldest trick of all: show up and bank on embarrassment carrying the day.
She inhaled, counted to five, and pressed the reply button.
Morning. I told you not to come here.
Oh, cut the act! Aunt Gail said, brushing her off as if she were a troublesome wasp. So you had a strop, it happens. Were not strangers. Open up, Emmas kids need the loo were at our limit. You cant leave us stranded on the doorstep.
Theres a cafe next door with a free loo, said Charlotte evenly. Im not opening the door.
Youre not serious? Aunt Gails nose was pressed up against the lens now, flattened for full effect. Weve come all this way! Were YOUR FAMILY! Your mother knows were here! Youd better open up or Ill make such a scene you wont know whats hit you!
Do as you like, said Charlotte. I warned you. I sent you the hotel details by text. Goodbye.
She put the receiver down and muted the intercom.
A minute later, someone began ringing her doorbell perhaps a neighbour had let them up. Charlottes blood ran cold now they were behind one slim door.
The bell rang incessantly. Soon, fists hammered on the door.
Charlotte! Open up! Whats wrong with you? Emmas voice was strained. The kids are exhausted! Are you completely heartless?
Open the door, you selfish cow! boomed Uncle Colin. We brought you treats! Cheese, and some pickled onions!
Charlotte stood in the middle of her hallway, arms wrapped about herself. She was afraid, mortified, and furious. She was tempted to open the door just to end the humiliation, the racket. What will the neighbours think? drifted through her mind, treacherous and fleeting. But then she gazed down at her pale floorboards and imagined six people tramping mud through her sanctuary, those bags scraping her new paint, the lingering stench of stale drink and cheap perfume seeping into every corner. To have her own home violated she recoiled.
No.
She strode up to the door and spoke loudly, clearly:
Im calling the police. If you dont leave immediately, Ill report you for harassment and attempted breaking and entering.
The noise outside stopped, just for a second.
Youll be the death of your own mother! wailed Aunt Gail. Call the police on your aunt! Youll regret this, mark my words!
Im counting to three, said Charlotte, pulling out her phone. One.
Mum, shes lost it, lets just go, Emma sounded meek. She really will call them, and well be a laughing stock.
Two.
Stuff you! Uncle Colins voice roared, followed by a hefty thump against the door. Enjoy your precious flat! Rot in it, for all I care!
Three.
There was a shuffling of bags, the slap of a child being hurried along, and the wailing of the twins.
Come on! spat Aunt Gail, her shoes squeaking on the landing. Ill never set foot here again! The whole familys going to hear about this!
Their footsteps retreated, fading down the staircase (nobody bothered waiting for the lift). Charlotte stayed by the door, listening to silence trickle back into the hallway. Only now did she notice she was shaking.
She slid to the floor, resting her back against the warm slate tiles, face buried in her hands. Tears sprang up not from pity for them, but from the release of monstrous tension. Shed done it. Defended her domain.
She heard her phone buzzing from the lounge. She knew who it was. Retrieving it, she saw a dozen missed calls from Mum, from Aunt Gail, from unfamiliar numbers (other relatives, drafted in for the offensive).
She turned her phone off entirely.
She went to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it in one. From her window, she could see them down below, bustling about as they loaded bags into a cab, arms flailing, Aunt Gail gesticulating up at her windows.
For a fleeting moment, memories came back from five years ago. Charlotte had been a student then, arriving in the very city where Aunt Gail lived for a work placement. No halls, no money for a bedsit. Shed asked if she could stay just one week, while she found a job. Aunt Gails response: Oh Charlotte love, weve got builders in dust, noise, you wouldnt manage. And Emmas courting just now, they want their privacy. Youll have to manage. Charlotte had spent three nights sleeping at the train station, hunched on a wooden bench, holding her backpack tight, until she finally found a room in exchange for chores.
Funny how family ties only counted when it was Aunt Gails convenience on the line. And now, with Charlotte in a palace, suddenly everyone was family through and through.
No, not in this lifetime, Charlotte murmured.
She put on gentle music, made herself fresh coffee, and curled up in her chair. The day was ruined, but at least the flat remained undisturbed.
That evening, when she switched her phone on, the messages poured in.
Youre no longer our daughter, sister, or niece! raged Aunt Gail.
How could you do that to your mum, shes got heart problems! wrote Emma.
Im ashamed to have given birth to you, her mother wrote. That one cut the sharpest.
Charlotte stared at the messages a long while. She was tempted to reply in self-defence, to remind them about what happened at the station, about how Aunt Gail had left her alone without a blink. But she realised it was pointless. They wouldnt hear her. To them, she was just a resource that had suddenly rebelled.
Instead, she typed a single message to Mum: I love you. But Im an adult, and this is my home, my rules. If you ever want to visit on your own, just let me know in advance and youll be welcome. But please dont try to guilt-trip me on behalf of everyone else. Remember Aunt Gails refusal five years ago? Im just returning the favour.
No answer ever came.
A week passed. Charlotte kept on living in her perfect flat. Neighbours she met in the lift gave her curious glances, but no one said a word. Clearly, Aunt Gails wailing had made an impression not the one shed hoped for, though. One neighbour, a young mum with a cocker spaniel, even winked at her, Congratulations on the new place that door of yours is a real fortress!
A month later her mum phoned. The tone was clipped but calm. She asked how work was going, and if the mortgage was being paid on time. Not a peep about Aunt Gail. Charlotte didnt mention her either.
Relations with the extended family cooled to a frosty distance. No more birthday invites, no more group family WhatsApp. Charlotte found she rather enjoyed the peace. No more outlays on pointless gifts for distant cousins, no more unasked-for advice about settling down, no more nosy wage interrogations.
Half a year on, as Christmas approached, the doorbell rang. Charlotte peered through the spyhole. There stood Emma, alone, pale, eyes red from crying.
Charlotte let her in.
Hi, Emma said, voice barely above a whisper. Can I come in?
For a moment, Charlotte hesitated, but stepped aside.
Come in. Shoes off, please, on the doormat.
Emma found her way to the kitchen and sat, disheveled, at the tables edge.
Ive left Bernard, she blurted, and burst into tears. He drank, started hitting me. The twins are with Mum, but… Ive nowhere else to go. Mum blames me. Aunt Gail told me to stick it out for the kids. But I just cant.”
She looked up with watery eyes, desperate.
Charlotte, can I stay? Just for a couple of nights. Im searching for a room. Ill be quiet, Ill sleep on the floor if I have to.
Charlotte gazed at her cousin. For half a year she had only remembered Emmas angry voice snarling through the intercom: Have you no shame! But now, she just saw a broken woman needing somewhere safe. And at last, she saw the difference a demand because Im entitled was one thing, genuine need another.
No need for the floor, Charlotte sighed. The sofa in the lounge opens up.
Emma stared in disbelief.
Youll have me, after all we did to you?
Yes. But on my terms. Charlotte poured tea and set it down. One: no children this flat isnt set up for them. Two: one week maximum, while you find somewhere Ill help you with a letting agent. Three: dont mention me to Aunt Gail or let her know youre here. If you do, youre out on your ear.
Thank you, Emma sobbed quietly. Thank you, Charlotte. We were idiots, I was an idiot… probably jealous. You got out, you made your own space. Were still stuck…
Jealousy destroys, said Charlotte quietly. Drink your tea, Ill make up the sofa.
Emma lived there for five days: quiet as a mouse, careful not to leave a trace. When she found a room in a shared house, she moved out.
That was the turning point. Emma, after seeing for herself what dignity and calm could be like, started changing. She filed for divorce, found a job, eased away from the toxic clutches of her mother and Aunt Gail. Occasionally, she and Charlotte even met for a film or a coffee.
As for Aunt Gail, she never forgave anything. But Charlotte didnt care anymore. Sitting on her sofa in the evening, book in hand and a glass of Merlot at her elbow, watching the city lights twinkle, she thought, My home is my castle more than just a saying, its survival. And to keep it so, sometimes you must never let the drawbridge down, no matter whose family flag is flying outside.
