These arent my children. If you want to help your sister, be my guest, but dont expect it to be at my expense. Shes thrown her marriage down the drain, and now shes dumped the kids on us while she gallivants about sorting out her life.
What a lovely home youve managed, little brother. I am rather envious, actually.
Janet absentmindedly ran a finger across the tablecloth, taking in the kitchen with an appraising eye. Serena placed the salad bowl on the table and sat down opposite her husband. Stan smiled cheerily at his sister, oblivious to the way his wife had just crushed a napkin in her fist.
We put in the work, he said. Took us half a year just to find a place that wasnt falling to bits.
Theyd sold the flat to move here, to Shrewsburycloser to Stans family, finally. Their own garden, their own patchpeace and quiet. Serena had dreamed of this for three years. Just two months ago, that dream had finally become reality.
Well, it didnt work out for me, did it? Janet sighed, her eyes fixed wistfully on her plate. Three months since the split, and Im still in a daze. Wake up in the night, nobody there. The kids keep asking me where their dad is. I never know what to say.
Mrs Thompson, perched grandly at the head of the table, reached out to pat her daughters hand.
There, there, love. Itll all come good. The main things the kids health, you hear? Hell regret leaving you, that rogue.
Four-year-old Cyril, the nephew, slid off his chair and dashed into the sitting room. Seconds later, a tremendous crash; something evidently no longer on the shelf.
Cyril, be careful! Janet called, not moving a muscle.
Three-year-old Alice began whining in her mothers arms, demanding attention. Janet jiggled her distractedly, pressing on:
Well, at least Ive got you lot nearby now. Mum can barely manage since the op, no one to help.
Barely got here on the taxi, myself, Mrs Thompson jumped in, rubbing her knee. Fourth floor, no lift, blood pressure all over the shop. Clambered up there thinking I might just expire. Hardly fit for minding grandchildren.
Serena got up to fetch the main course. Tomato seedlings lined the windowsilltiny, hopeful shoots in compost pots. Another month and they could go in the garden. Her first ever tomatoes.
Hope you dont mind if I leave the kids here every now and then? Janets voice reached her at the cooker. Only when theres no other option. Seldom, really. Got to get a job, see some doctors, meet the solicitor about the divorce. What do you do with them, eh?
Serena turned, meeting Janets eyes with that particular look of vulnerable innocence Serena knew all too well. Twenty-seven, and played the victim like a seasoned pro.
Stan nodded, full of brotherly empathy.
Of course, Jan. Dont be daft. Well help, wont we, Serena?
Everyone looked at herthree pairs of eyes, expecting her to give the right answer.
Yes, of course, Serena managed. When you really need us.
Janet beamed. My saviours! Its only for a couple of hours, promise.
The guests cleared off around eleven. Stan ordered a cab for his mum and helped her totter down the steps, Mrs Thompson groaning the whole way. Janet bundled her sleepy kids into her battered Ford Fiesta, shouting, Thanks for the dinner, youre the best! as she pulled away.
Serena tidied up in weary silence. Stan gave her a squeeze from behind, pecked her head.
See, that was nice, wasnt it? Mums happy, Janets cheered up. Moving here was right.
Hm.
You alright? You seem knackered.
Just a bit.
She didnt say what was bothering her. Every now and then, only if Im desperateshed heard that one before. She knew all too well how that turns into everyday, because its convenient this way.
A week later Janet rang up in the morning.
Serena, save me! Got to dash to the doctor, cant leave the kids with mum. Just for three hourspromise Ill pick them up at lunchtime.
Serena looked at her laptop, quarter-end report charts blinking accusingly at her. Deadline for Friday.
Jan, Im up to my neck
Theyre ever so quiet, honestlytheyll just entertain themselves. Stick the telly on, thats all. Please, Serena, I really need this.
Half an hour later, the kids were there. Lunchtime came and went; no Janet. The clock crept silently toward evening.
Stan got back around six, poked his head in the lounge and saw the kids glued to the telly.
Janet not collected them, then?
No. Promised lunchtime. Messagedrunning late.
Oh well, he shrugged, digging in the fridge for a beer. Its family, isnt it? No bother.
Serena said nothing. Cyril had already managed to spill juice all down the carpet, and Alices nappies had run out hours agojust one left in the rucksack.
Janet breezed in a little before nine, freshly blow-dried, made-up, and distinctly fragrant with coffee and something floral.
Sorry, lost track of time. Honestly, thank you! Youve saved me!
Serena finished her report at 3am, her brain fried, ears still ringing with childish yells.
Four days lateragain. Job interview, mega important! Janet dropped the kids off at nine, swore shed be back three. Stan, home sleeping off a night shift, emerged around lunchtime.
Theyre still here?
Evidently.
He made tea, switched on the match. Dont stress, Im here.
He was there, anywaywatching the football in the lounge while Serena juggled children and spreadsheets. Twice Cyril wandered in: Uncle Stan, play with me? Later, sport. Big match on.
Janet collected her offspring at eight.
By week three, it was routine. Three times a week, sometimes four. Doctors, lawyers, interviews, friendsthose couple of hours stretching endlessly to evening.
Then, one weary evening, when the kids had finally been whisked away, Serena sat down opposite Stan.
Stan, I cant keep this up.
What dyou mean?
Three times a week. Im not getting my work done.
He frowned. Serena, shes in a bad way. Husbands left, shes got two kids on her own. Shes family.
I know. But every time she promises lunchtime and rolls up at ten. Its not helping, its
What?
Serena almost said taking liberties or taking us for mugs. Instead, she looked at him and didnt say anything.
Mum rang today, Stan ploughed on. Says Janet needs time. Shes still young, her lifes in tatters. Im her brother. I have to help.
And me?
Youre my wife, he replied as if it were self-explanatory. Were a team.
Serena turned to the window where her seedlings strained for proper soil. Shed planned to transplant them Saturday.
No point arguing.
Friday evening, Stan came home with news: Janet called. Can we have the kids tomorrow? Shes got two interviewsand her cars playing up, needs the garage.
Serena put her laptop aside, fixed him with a look. Weve talked about this. I cant do every weekend.
Oh come on, dont make a fuss, he threw his jacket on the chair and headed for the fridge. Shes my sister. You cant be put out by this. Youre at home anyway.
I work from home. Its not the same.
Catch up while the kids watch cartoons. Whats the problem?
She wanted to protest, but he wore that tired, irritable look. Tomorrow was Saturday. She planned to finally plant out her tomatoesthey were ready.
Fine, she said. Let her bring them.
Janet turned up around eleven, new dress, proper blow-dry, makeup like she was off to a gala, not a job interview.
Thank you, thank you! Lifesavers! Ill pick them up by five, six max!
Janet, the rucksack?
Oh, in the car! Hang on.
She returned a minute later, thrust it into Serenas hand. Nappies, change of clothesta-ta! Im late!
Door slammed. Serena stood holding two children and a half-empty bag. Stan was in the garage, messing with the car, helping a neighbour.
By one, Cyril had tired of TV and was charging around the house. Alice whinedhungry, then thirsty, then in need of attention. Serena bounced between children and cooker, just about producing lunch.
Stan popped in. How are things?
Fine, Serena said through gritted teeth. Can you watch them a minute? I need to put in the seedlings, cant put it off.
Yeah, just let me wash up.
She slipped out, set out her pots and trowel and crouched at the veg beds. Ten minutes in, a loud smash sounded from indoors, followed by wailing.
She ran in. In the lounge, Stan was on the sofa, glued to his phone. Cyril was next to a pile of earth and crockery; her precious tomato seedlings, snapped and ruined.
What happened?
He climbed on the windowsill, Stan murmured, eyes still on the phone. Didnt stop him in time.
Serena stared at the soil and crushed stems. Shed coaxed those tiny plants for monthswatering, nudging them towards the sunlight, waiting for the day she could finally plant them out.
Auntie Serena, are you cross? Cyril peered up, trembling.
No, she crouched and started gathering the bits. Go to uncle Stan.
Stan at last put down his phone. Its just plants, love. Plant new ones.
She didnt answer. It wasnt just plants. It was her hope for a slice of normal life, once again sacrificed on the altar of someone elses children.
Five oclockno Janet. At six, a text: Running a bit late. Sevennothing. Serena rang. Number unavailable.
At eight, an unfamiliar engine rumbled outside. Serena peered out; a shiny black Range Rover pulled up at the gate. Not standard garage courtesy car.
Janet hopped out, flushed and giggly, teetering on heels, smelling faintly of wine and Turkish Delight. A forty-something chap in a leather jacket waved her off.
Cheers, Alexis that your number? Perfect! Ill call!
Car squealed away. Janet caught sight of Serena.
Oh, hello! Sorry Im lateran into an old friend after the interview. He gave me a lift.
There was that boozy whiffno way shed been at an interview. Or a garage.
How was the interview? Serena inquired, voice even.
What? Oh, fine. They said theyll ring.
And the garage?
Janet faltered. Booked me in next week. Big backlog.
Liar. Not even trying.
Actually, do you think you could do Wednesday for me? Another interview. Huge opportunity.
No.
It came out crisp and final. Janets eyebrows shot up.
What do you mean, no?
Exactly that. I cant on Wednesday.
But why? Youre always home
I work from home. And I have plans.
Janets face crumpled, lip quivering, eyes glistening.
Serena, you know its so hard for me right now. Alone with two children. I counted on you and Stan. Ive got no one else. And you cant even spare a day?
Ive been helping, Janet. For three weeks straight. But Im not a childminder. Im not a nursery.
Whats wrong with you? snapped Janet. Its not such a big ask! Theyre your family!
Theyre not my children, said Serena, surprised at the steadiness in her tone. Theyre yours. Theyre your responsibility.
Stan appeared in the doorway, having caught the end.
Whats all this?
Janet instantly switched to trembling, helpless mode. Stan, your wife doesnt want to help me. I only asked for a day, but she
Janet sniffed theatrically, hand to chest.
You all know what Im going through. I thought I could count on my own family. But seems not
She broke off mid-flounce, marched for her car, pausing on the step.
Try to be kinder, Serena. Kinder.
She summoned a cab, studiously ignored Serena until it arrived, bundled sleepy kids into the taxi, and drove off without so much as a backward wave.
Serena stood on the step, an awkward mix of guilt and relief twisting inside her. Too harsh, perhaps?
Stan stared after the car, turned to his wife.
Well, was that really necessary?
What?
She asked nicely. And you He didnt finish, stalking inside.
It was quiet for a week. Then Stan burst in after work.
Janets called. Another interview, supposedly crucial. Could you just do it, Serena? Dont be so difficult.
Stan, weve
Just the once. Last time, I promise. If she takes the mick again, Ill sort her myself.
Serena looked at her husbandtorn and knackered, caught between his sister and his wife like a bad pub quiz with no correct answer.
Alright. One last time.
Next morning, Janet swept in, showering the children with kisses.
Thanks so much, Im in a real dash, theyre waiting for me already!
Door banged. Serena was left standing with Cyril and Alice.
At lunchtime, she flicked open her phone to check her emailonly to see Janets face on her feed, tagged at a café with friends, big glass of prosecco in hand, a burly mans arm round her shoulders. Caption: So good catching up with the old gang! How Ive missed proper life!
Posted twenty minutes ago.
Serena looked at the photo, and everything clicked. No interviews, no doctors, no garage. Janet was dropping the kids, then off out enjoying herself. And her estranged husbandmaybe he wasnt such a monster after all. Maybe hed simply had enough.
She called Stan.
Come and look after your niece and nephew yourself.
What? Im at work.
Well, have your mum pick them up. Im done.
Serena, whats happened?
Check your sisters socials. Then well talk.
A pause. Then a sigh.
Alright. Ill get off early.
Stan arrived two hours later, took one look at his wife.
Saw the photo, he admitted quietly.
And?
Could be old mates
Dont be thick, Stan. Last time she turned up smelling of booze, being dropped off by some bloke in a Range Rover. Are you blind?
Theyre my niece and nephew, he snapped. They havent done anything wrong.
So Im the bad guy? Because theyre not my kids. If you want to help your sister, thats fine, but Im not having it at my expense.
Shes my sister!
Who destroyed her own marriage. And now lands her responsibilities on us while she goes and has a laugh.
How can you
Im telling you whats real. Every time she left them here, she was off somewhere else. Lied every time. Its obvious. Are you going to keep making excuses?
Stan said nothing, rubbing his face.
Fine, he said at length. I get it.
Janet turned up late that night. The kids were fast asleep on the sofa. She started to protest but Stan held up his hand.
No more, Jan. Not like this.
What do you mean? She blinked.
Dumping the kids while you disappear all day. We arent your babysitters.
Janet glanced at Serena; a flicker of understanding in her eyes.
Shes put you up to this?
No. This is my decision.
Janet scoffed, scooped up the sleeping Cyril.
I see. Family, eh?
She left, not bothering to thank them. Door slammed, windowpanes rattled.
In the morning, tea in hand, the phone rangMum flashing up.
Stan answered.
Yes, Mum?
Serena caught snatches of Mrs Thompsons voicesharp and accusing.
Whats this? Cant be bothered to help your own sister now? You know I cant manage
Mum, weve got our own lives.
Oh, now the new house means youve lost your morals! I see what youre made of!
Click. Stan put down his phone, looked at Serena.
Shes sulking.
I noticed.
They sat in silence. Sunlight streamed onto the windowsill where the empty pot sata silent memorial to dreams of peace and homegrown tomatoes. Theyd moved here chasing quiet and their own life. Instead, all theyd found was everybody elses baggage.
Stan reached over and took her hand.
Sorry, he said softly. Shouldve put a stop to it sooner.
Serena didnt answerjust squeezed his fingers. It wasnt really a victory; mother-in-law in a huff, Janet in a strop, months of silent-resentment likely ahead. But for the first time in weeks, she felt something like relief. Shed said no. And this time, her husband had heard her.
The rest would have to wait.
