**Strangers in My House**
That Saturday, Emily decided to visit her parents’ house. It had only been three months since her mum passed away, and in all that time, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to sort through her things. The house stood empty, neglected. The neighbours—mostly elderly—had either moved in with their children or rented their homes out. The Wilsons, whose kids she’d played with as a child, used to live next door, but now their house was taken over by strangers, leaving no one familiar to ask for help.
Her husband, James, had left at dawn for a fishing trip, and her teenage daughter, Lottie, had dismissed her with a wave, headphones glued to her ears. So Emily thought—enough stalling. She’d go, see the house, maybe start clearing things out, then pop round to Alice’s for tea—her friend had been nagging her to visit. She called a taxi and stood outside, reminiscing about the street from her childhood—cosy, quiet, with its own particular scent and light. The closer the cab got, the tighter the knot in her chest grew—she missed her parents so much it ached.
A few streets away, Emily hopped out, deciding to walk the rest. But the nearer she got, the more uneasy she felt. At the garden gate, she froze.
“What on earth…?” she whispered.
The window was cracked open, curtains pulled back—she distinctly remembered locking everything up. The door had clearly been forced. Someone had been inside. Or worse—still was.
She tried calling James—no signal. The street was deserted—everyone must’ve seized the sunny autumn weekend to escape. She debated calling the police, then a chilling thought struck her.
“What if… it’s James?”
He *had* been acting odd lately—distant one minute, oddly cheerful the next. Maybe “fishing” was a cover, and he was actually here—with some other woman? Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t picture it, but once the thought took hold, she couldn’t shake it.
For ten minutes, Emily stared at the windows. Then—laughter. A woman’s, bright and carefree, like she was having the time of her life… in Emily’s childhood home. Her throat tightened.
Then—a door slammed. Out stepped a slender woman in a short robe, towel in hand, heading for the garden sauna.
“Darling, come on! It’s boring alone!” she called inside.
Emily went cold. Young, pretty… of *course* he’d traded her for someone like that. It all made sense now.
Clenching her jaw, she marched to the gate. Spotting a sturdy stick, she wedged it against the sauna door—just in case—then snatched her dad’s old belt from the porch. Heavy, with a thick buckle. *Perfect.*
Barging inside, she saw a set table, a bottle of bubbly, and the telly on. And sprawled on the sofa—a sleeping man.
“You absolute *swine*! We’ve a grown daughter, and *this* is how you act?!” she yelled, swinging the belt.
“AHH! What’re you—? Emily?! It’s *me*, Tom!”
She stopped. It wasn’t James. It was Tom—his nephew.
“What are you *doing* here? How’d you get in?”
“Door was flimsier than cardboard! I’ve got *nowhere* to live! Thought the place was empty, so… brought my girlfriend over for a bit.”
“Your *girlfriend*?!” Emily paled. “And you thought *that* was fine? This isn’t a *hotel*!”
“Oh, loosen up! Have a cuppa while we stay a bit, yeah?”
“No! Pack up. *Now*. And you’re paying for a *new* lock!” she snapped.
“Sophie…?” Tom mumbled. “Where’s she gone?”
“In the sauna. Locked in. Teach her not to wander where she shouldn’t!”
Sophie soon escaped, storming in, flushed and furious.
“This is *my* house now, Tom—tell her! I already wired you money for furniture!”
“*Yours*?” Emily scoffed. “It’s my *mother’s* house, love. You’ve just been swindled by a slippery little nephew.”
Sophie screeched, “Give me *back* my money, you cheat! I’ll report you!”
“And *you’re* no better,” Tom grumbled.
Once the dust settled, Emily headed to Alice’s and spilled the whole saga—panic, sauna ambush, belt justice. Alice howled with laughter.
“Emily, you *legend*! I’d’ve phoned the police straight off. But *you*—full-on showdown!”
“At least it wasn’t James,” Emily sighed, relieved. “But I *am* changing the lock. And the door. *Steel*.”
“To bold women!” Alice toasted, raising her glass.
“To us!” Emily grinned.
