Right, thats it! Pick: me, or your brother and that gaggle of girls you keep bringing round! Youve really taken the biscuit this time. First, you moved your family in, then its random women? Youve certainly landed on your feet, havent you?
Emma stood in the middle of the bedroom, trembling. In her outstretched hand, she clutched the incriminating evidence shed just found a single nylon stocking that definitely wasnt hers. Shed pulled it from under the bed a moment ago, and knew instantly: this belonged to someone else.
Tom, instead of apologising or even pretending to look ashamed, twisted his face up as if it were Emma whod brought a stranger home. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, casting impatient glances towards the hallway.
Oh, come on, Em, stop making a mountain out of a molehill, Tom grumbled. Thats from our guest my brother, and dont forget, your brother-in-law. So, he brought a girl back once. Whats the harm in that?
Emma wasnt bothered about that as such. What she felt was something cold and sticky disgust. Like shed stepped in mud with her favourite shoes by accident.
She saw Toms eyes darting restlessly, as if searching for backup from his brother Jack, who had all but occupied their flat for the past six months. Jack, for his part, hadnt even lifted a finger to help.
This is my flat, and I dont want strangers in here or your brother, for that matter, Emma said, keeping her anger in check. Buy your own place, then you can have whoever you like, even a circus elephant for all I care. But Im asking you both to leave mine.
Now it was Toms turn to look surprised. But Emma couldnt see why he was shocked. It seemed, to her, only natural.
Oh, Tom, lets just get out of here already, Jack called lazily from the lounge. Well find somewhere easier, with no one getting on at us all the time. No point flogging a dead horse, mate.
Tom seemed to take this as his cue. He yanked his gym bag out of the wardrobe, loudly, and started chucking in his things: t-shirts, jeans, phone charger, underwear, all jumbled together.
Youll regret this, Emma, he muttered, not meeting her eyes. Who else is going to want you, aside from me…
As they left, the door slammed so violently that the crystal glasses in the display cabinet rattled.
Emma was alone, suddenly surrounded by ringing silence. She sat on the bed, still gripping the damned nylon stocking. How had it come to this? When had her cosy two-bed, inherited from her grandmother, turned into a hostel?
…Emma had met Tom two years ago. They were chalk and cheese. She was quiet, shy, found people tricky. He was loud, chatty, always on the move. Though both were students, he was working as a minicab driver on the side and laid on the charm bought her chocolate, recited poetry, took her out for dinner sometimes. To Emma, the bookish good girl, it seemed the height of romance.
His suggestion to move in came suspiciously quickly: just a couple of months in.
Cant be without you, sweetheart, hed murmur, hugging her. Just want to fall asleep and wake up with you every day.
She melted at those words. Only months later did she find out the truth: Tom had been thrown out of his rented room for being too noisy and just needed a place to stay. But she rationalised it: Everyone has a rough patch now and then. It just worked out this way, she told herself.
Their seaside bubble for two was calm and happy, if hardly luxurious. Emma dashed off for lectures in the morning, then tutored after hours to pay the bills and keep food in the fridge. Tom pitched in a bit, too. But after two years, their peaceful world was invaded.
Tom, didnt you say your brother was coming up for uni? Why not invite him over? He is your brother, after all… Emma had once suggested.
She had no idea Jack would enjoy visiting quite so much. What was supposed to be the occasional visit became every other day, then every night, until suddenly he just never left. Emma, raised to be a good hostess, found herself cooking for and cleaning up after not one but two grown men: washing up, making beds, doing their laundry, all on her own.
She didnt realise Jack would forget all about university, either.
Jack, I thought you were a student now? Dont they sort you out with halls or anything? Emma asked, three months in.
Nah, I didnt get in not enough points. Ill try again next year, he replied, like it was nothing.
Emma was horrified. She already suspected Jack had no plans to move out. Why would he? He had a whole living room to himself, food ready, everything done for him. His life was just sleeping till midday, scrolling on his phone, hanging out with mates.
Things got even worse when Tom suddenly quit his job at the local shop.
The managers an idiot, Tom declared. Too many demands and the pays rubbish. Dont worry, Ill do some cabbing for now while I look for something better.
The job hunt dragged on, as Emma had feared. At best, Tom worked once a week. Now, both men loafed around her flat all day, both relying on her for everything.
Balancing the budget was becoming impossible. Food vanished as soon as she bought it. A pan of sausages, meant to last two days, vanished in one evening. The bills crept higher, but neither Tom nor Jack made any effort to help.
Emma would come home, worn out, to heaps of unwashed crockery. Dirty clothes littered the bathroom floor. Dust bunnies piled up in the corners.
The first time she dared to complain, Tom looked genuinely baffled.
What are you moaning for, Em? Cant spare a bowl of soup for my brother? Hes having a tough time, adjusting to London. Try to be nice youre the woman, after all.
Every time, Emma was made to feel like a stingy witch, always counting crumbs. So, gritting her teeth, she got back to cooking, cleaning their mess, staying quiet just to keep the fragile peace at home. She convinced herself that hard times pass for everyone.
But when she came home one night to find an unfinished bottle of cheap wine on the table and, worse, three glasses her nerves jangled. And when she found that stocking… that was the last straw.
Her first night alone in the flat was uneasy. Strangely, the quiet felt oppressive. She almost missed Jacks loud snoring, the TV muttering in the lounge, Toms slippers shuffling in the kitchen.
But by morning, the fear of being by herself had faded into relief. Emma opened the fridge: the cheese shed bought yesterday was still there. The juice carton was untouched. No one had drunk milk from the bottle. No crumbs or dirty knives were left on the worktop. For once, her home was truly hers again.
By evening, though, the loneliness hit hard. Emma went to see her friend, Sophie. She needed to get it off her chest.
Silly thing, Em… Sophie said kindly. Bet theyre out there sweet-talking some other girl. Maybe even the same one that left her tights behind. And whos to say it was Jacks guest? Might have been Tom amusing himself.
You think Tom was cheating?
Does it matter anymore? The pair of them took you for a ride. Be grateful some silly girl left you that clue, or youd still be running after those two layabouts.
Back home, Emma didnt just clean the flat it was a full-on farewell to her old life, and her old self. Out went every stray sock, sweet wrapper, and empty cigarette packet anything that reminded her of the lads. Even their presents. Emma changed the bedsheets, scrubbed the floors with bleach, and finally felt her shoulders drop.
At the end of the month, she did her budget and, with surprise, realised she now had enough money left over to finally save up.
A year and a half passed…
Emma changed, too. She got a job at an independent school, learned to say “no”, and stopped bending over backwards for everyone else. A new man appeared David, an engineer, five years older than her, who owned a flat (even if there was still a mortgage).
She took her time with David, not rushing to move in. For six months she sized him up before agreeing to try living together. In the end, they chose Emmas place hers was closer to the city centre. David let his out, using the rent to clear his mortgage faster.
Everything settled into a rhythm until, one evening, David looked up from his phone.
Listen, love, my mum rang earlier… She needs some medical checks done. No chance of that in our village. Shell need to stay, probably a week or two. How do you feel about that?
Emma went cold inside. She remembered Jack, splayed out on the sofa, the snoring, feeling like a guest in her own home… Her heart fluttered with dread.
She looked at David. He waited for her answer. It felt as though everything hung on what she said next. Should she keep quiet? Just put up with it for the sake of love? Go on being a doormat for everyone except herself?
Emma drew a deep breath, steadying her nerves.
David, she began as calmly as she could, Ive got nothing but respect for your mum, but Ive got a hard rule: no overnight guests in my home. From either side yours or mine. Our home is our castle, just ours. I hope youre not offended. I know its a bit quirky.
There was a pause. Emma braced for accusations of selfishness, a row, the slam of a door. She was ready to defend herself.
But David just raised his brows in surprise, then nodded coolly.
No trouble at all, he replied, turning back to his phone. Makes sense, really. If weve got a spare place, no one needs to be crowded. Worst case, Ill find somewhere nearby the hospital for her so shes comfortable, and we arent in each others way.
Emma froze in disbelief, then let out a huge sigh.
Youre not cross?
David looked at her, set the phone down, came over, and hugged her.
Whats there to be cross about? Everyones got their ways. We can always work something out.
Emma smiled and tucked her head against his shoulder. She hadnt just learned how to say no shed found someone who didnt see her boundaries as the start of a fight. From now on, her home and her heart would only open to those who knew how to wipe their feet before entering.
