Temporary Houseguests
Listen, love, theres something I need to talk to you about
Sophie braced herself for a lengthy conversation. Whenever her mum started with liiiisten, looove in that slow, honeyed voice, trouble was almost certainly afoot.
Remember Emma, Auntie Veras daughter? My third cousin, sort of? Technically, shes some type of relation to you as well.
Some type Sophie sighed. Mum, I met her onceat Granddads funerallike, a decade ago.
It doesnt matter! Familys family. Anyway, shes in a pickle. Her and her husband and their lad are being kicked out of their flat. Landlords selling up. Can you imagine?
Sophie rubbed the bridge of her nose. Outside, a dreary December afternoon trudged on, and her coffee cooled steadily as her patience did.
Mum, I sympathise. But whats this got to do with me?
Oh darling, its obvious! Your three-bedroom flat is enormous. Youre living there all by yourself. They just need somewhere to stay for a bit, a month or two, while they get sorted
No.
The word slipped out of Sophies mouth before shed had time to consider her options.
Pardon?! Mum looked stunned at the blunt rejection. You werent even listening!
Mum, Im not about to let strangers move into my place. Especially with a kid. And especially for an open-ended amount of time.
What open-ended? I said its temporary! Couple of months, tops. Emmas husbands working, theyll save up for a deposit and move out. Sophie, theyve got an eight-year-old boy. Hell be out on the street if you wont help!
They can rent a room. Or stay in a hostel. Or a Travelodge. Whatever.
With what money? Theyve got nothing! Theyre literally being chucked out, on the curb!
Mum, its not my problem.
Then, suddenly, her mum started cryingnot the dramatic, wailing sort, but quietly, in shuddering breaths. Sophie shut her eyes.
I dont know you anymore, her mum sniffed through tears. My daughters become cold. Uncaring. Your own family in trouble and youre not bothered.
Theyre not my family. Theyre yours.
That makes them yours too! Or did you forget what family means? Helping your own?
Mum, I work from home. I need peace and quiet. I need personal space. I cant live with strangers.
Just for a bit! For heaven’s sake, what does it cost you? Youve got three rooms! Three! And you’re there on your own, like some hermit. You dont even have a cat. At least then this flat would serve a purpose
It does serve a purpose. I live here.
Selfish, thats what you are, Mum sniffled. I raised a selfish daughter. Never thought my own child would deny her family a bite to eat.
Im not denying anyone food. Im denying them entry to my home.
The conversation went in circles. Mum repeated the same arguments; Sophie parried with the same replies. After forty minutes, Sophie found herself saying shed think about it. Then, in principle, maybe, its possible
Just one month, she conceded at last, two, max. If anything goes wrong, theyre gone.
Oh, thank you, darling! You have no idea how grateful I am!
A sick feeling crept up inside hernot physical queasiness, but the sort that comes when you know, without a doubt, youve just made a monumental mistake.
The next morning at seven, the doorbell rang. Sophie, sleep-addled and grumpy, opened upand was instantly bowled over by an avalanche of suitcases, duffel bags, cardboard boxes, and a cacophony of childish shrieks.
SOPhie! Sunshine! Emma barrelled into the hallway, pecking Sophies cheek. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Youve saved us!
Trailing behind was a burly bloke in joggers and their eight-year-old son, who dashed off to explore immediately.
Matt, bring the big bag! Emma ordered.
Sophie counted seven suitcases, four boxes, and two gigantic plastic storage tubs. For a couple of months, it seemed excessive.
Well be settled in no time, Emma assured. You wont even notice us.
The first two weeks passed in managed chaos. Sophie retreated to her bedroom, tried to work as the television blared in the lounge and little Charlies footsteps thundered through the halls. She clung to the hope that it was temporary. That it wasnt horrific. That she could tough it out.
Things spiralled quickly. Emma rearranged the kitchen furniture because its more practical. Matt claimed the balcony as his chill-out zone. Charlie snapped the handle off the bathroom door and no one lifted a finger to fix it.
Emma, Sophie said, cornering her in the kitchen, we need to talk. Its been nearly a month. Any progress with house-hunting?
Were looking, were looking, Emma didnt glance up from her phone. Its just so expensive, you wouldnt believe. But well find something soon. Chill.
I need actual timescales, Emma.
Emma met her eyes. Something in her look had shiftedjust a little.
Soph, where do you expect us to go? Out on the street? With a child?
Im not talking about the street. Just
Were trying! Emma raised her voice. What more do you want? Are you hoping well end up sleeping at the train station?
Matt emerged from the living room.
This a problem?
Sophie looked at both of them. Their expressionsno longer grateful, no longer sheepish.
No, she said. No problem.
And she retreated to her bedroom.
Problems, naturally, were mounting. Matt had a knack for occupying the bathroom precisely when Sophie needed it before morning Zoom calls. Emma moved Sophies food to the bottom shelf of the fridge and claimed the top shelves because theyre easier to reach. Charlie discovered how to blast cartoons at full volume at 7am every Saturday.
Work happened in fragments. Sleep came after late-night TV rumbling from the lounge. Sophie woke to bangs in the corridorMatt was always dropping something.
Once, she came home after shopping to find her work desk submerged under Charlies toys. Emma sat in her office chair scrolling on her phone.
Oh, youre back, Emma said, barely glancing up. By the way, can we get faster WiFi? Yours is rubbish.
This is my workspace.
So? Charlies got nowhere to play. The bedrooms too cramped.
Sophie scooped up the toys and dumped them in the corridor. Emma frowned but said nothing.
Then the utility bill arrived. Twice the usual amount. Sophie placed the letter on the kitchen table during dinner.
We should talk about bills.
Matt chewed, eyes glued to his plate. Emma sliced her sausage.
What bills?
Utilities. Theres three of you and one of me. Fair to split the costs at least in half.
Emma dropped her fork.
Soph, are you serious right now? We’re family. Are you actually going to start charging us?
Im talking about splitting costs. Thats standard.
Standard? Matt finally looked up. Standard is helping your own. Not squeezing cash out of people whore struggling.
Youve stayed here two months. For free. Used my internet. Im not even talking about rentjust the bills.
Well, Emma got up, if you begrudge us a few quid, just say so. Dont play the saint, alright?
Sophie watched them stalk out, Charlie nabbing the last slice of bread, Matt tossing over his shoulder, Tight-fisted, isnt she?
She sat at the kitchen table until midnight, thinking, counting up the cash spent on uninvited guests, wondering how much longer she could survive.
Next morning, she marched into the lounge where Emma and Matt were watching TV.
Youve got one week.
Emma didnt even look round.
What?
One week to find somewhere and move out.
Now they both turned.
Have you lost the plot? Matt sprang to his feet. Where are we supposed to go?
Thats not my concern. I gave you two months. You havent flat-hunted, havent paid towards the bills, and havent respected my space. Enough.
And who made you queen of the castle? Emma rose too. Inherited a flat and now shes on a power trip!
I own this flat. I want you out.
Does your mum know how you treat family? Matt loomed closer. Maybe we should give her a ring?
Call her.
Emma whipped out her phone. Sophie didnt budge. Let her call. Let Mum shout, weep, accuseSophies mind was made up.
One week, she said again. If youre still here after seven days, Ill call the council.
You Emma sputtered with fury. How dare you! After all we did for you! We
You didnt do anything for me. You lived here. For free. Theres a world of difference.
Sophie spun on her heel and locked herself in her room. Sat on her bed and hugged her knees. Her heart thudded in her throat but, strangely, calm descended.
The week was hellish. Emma stopped cleaning up. Matt accidentally smashed a shelf in the hallway. Charlie scribbled all over the wallpaper with markers. Sophie filmed everything on her phone.
On the seventh day, they left. Matt hauled the suitcases, swearing at every step. Emma turned in the doorway.
Hope karma catches up with you, love!
Sophie closed the door behind them.
She walked around the flat, tidied away every last trace of their presence, cracked open the windows to air out the smell of Matts balcony chill zone, moved the kitchen table back to its spot.
By evening, her flat was hers again.
Sophie poured herself a glass of wine and curled up on the sofa. Her phone sat silentMum hadnt recovered from Emmas tirade yet. Shed cope.
Kindness is a virtue, sure. But kindness with no boundaries turns into weakness. And people take advantage of weakness.
Sophie promised herself: never again. No more family duty. No more temporary stay. No more strangers in her home.
She finished her wine, washed the glass, and went to bed. For the first time in months, in perfect, blissful silence.
