I wont cook for everyone anymore! Only for myself and Annie.
Whats that supposed to mean? snapped Nigel.
Because in this family, Ive realised, everyone fends for themselves. So live like that!
Mum, wheres my breakfast? Emma barged into the bedroom without knocking. Im going to be late for school!
Nina tried to sit up, but her head spun. The thermometer read thirty-nine degrees. Her throat burned, and her chest rattled with every breath.
Emma, Im ill Grab something from the fridge.
Theres nothing in there! Just yoghurts for the little one! Emma stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Its always about her!
A cry came from the nursery. Annie had woken up. Nina forced herself to stand, legs wobbling, vision blurring.
Nina, wheres my shirt? Nigel called from the bathroom. The blue striped one?
Should be in the wardrobe
Its not there! Did you iron it yesterday?
Nina leaned against the wall. Shed spent yesterday running a fever while looking after their youngest.
No, I didnt get to it.
Brilliant! Ive got a meeting! Nigel slammed the bathroom door in frustration.
Annies cries grew louder. Nina shuffled to the nursery and lifted her daughter into her arms. The little girl clung to her, sniffling.
Mum! Emma shouted from the kitchen. Theres literally nothing here! Not even bread!
Moneys on the table. Buy something on your way.
Im not stopping at the shop! Ive got a test! And anyway, its your job to feed the family!
Nina said nothing and walked to the kitchen, holding Annie. She pulled some frozen sausages from the freezer and set a pan on the hob.
And make pasta! Emma ordered, eyes glued to her phone.
While breakfast cooked, Nigel emerged in a wrinkled shirt.
Had to wear this one. I look like a tramp. Thanks for that.
Nina stayed silent. Speaking hurt, and she had no energy left for explanations.
Sophies birthday partys today, Emma announced, plating her pasta. Im going after school. Dont wait up.
Emma, I feel awful. Could you stay and help with your sister?
Yeah, right! Ive waited months for this party! And anyway, I never asked for a sister. Thats your problem!
She grabbed her bag and stormed out, slamming the door.
Nigel finished his breakfast, scrolling through his phone.
Nigel, could you come home early? Im really unwell.
Cant. Work drinks after hours. You know how it is.
But Im sick
Take some paracetamol or something. Youre not bedridden. Youll manage.
He pecked her damp, feverish forehead and left.
Nina was alone with three-year-old Annie. The toddler demanded attention, food, playtime. Nina went through the motions, her strength fading.
By lunch, her temperature hit forty. She somehow fed Annie, put her down for a nap, then collapsed on the sofa. Her head throbbed, her pulse hammered.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Emma: *Mum, send money for Sophies present. Now!*
Nina didnt reply. She couldnt even lift the phone.
Nigel returned first that evening, tipsy, carrying a bag from the corner shop.
Got some beer and crisps! Match is on! He flopped onto the sofa and turned on the telly.
Nigel, feed Annie, please. I cant get up.
That bad? He finally looked at her. Why are you so red?
High fever. All day…
Well, call an ambulance if its serious. Wheres Annie?
In bed. Shell wake soon.
Fine, Ill feed her. When she wakes up.
Half an hour later, Annie cried for her mum. Nigel reluctantly tore himself from the TV and picked her up.
What are you crying for? Come to Dad!
But the little girl reached for Nina, wailing louder. Nigel panicked.
Nina, she wants you!
Give her a biscuit from the cupboard. And some juice.
Where? I cant find anything!
Nina forced herself up. The room spun. She grabbed the wall for balance, fetched a biscuit, and poured juice. Annie settled slightly.
Emma came back past midnight. Nina was still awake, feverish.
Why didnt you reply? Emma snapped. I had to borrow money from Sophies mum! Embarrassing!
Emma, Ive had a fever all day
So? Couldnt pick up your phone? Two seconds!
The next morning, Nigel shook Nina awake.
Nina, get up! Ive got to leave, and Annies screaming!
The fever had broken, but weakness clung to her. She dressed Annie mechanically.
What about breakfast? Nigel asked.
Make it yourself. Im taking Annie to nursery.
Myself? I dont know how! And Im late!
Youll learn.
Something in her tone silenced him. He grumbled and stomped to the kitchen.
When Nina returned, the house was a messdirty dishes, scattered clothes, unmade beds. Normally, shed clean immediately. Not today.
She showered, drank tea, and went back to bed.
That evening, the family gathered for dinneror rather, around an empty table.
Mum, whats for dinner? Emma asked.
No idea. Whatever you make.
What? Emmas eyes widened.
Exactly. Im not cooking for everyone anymore. Just for me and Annie.
Whats got into you? Nigel scowled.
Because in this family, Ive realised, everyone fends for themselves. So live like it.
Nina, come on He reached for her, but she stepped back.
Im tired of being your maid! Yesterday proved Im just unpaid help to you.
Mum, I said sorry! Emma lied.
No, you didnt. Neither did your dad. No one even asked how I felt.
Fine, sorry! Emma huffed. Are we supposed to starve?
Fridge is full. Youve got hands. Cook.
The first week was chaos. Emma threw tantrums, Nigel sulked. Nina held firm. She cooked only for herself and Annie, washed only their clothes, cleaned only the nursery.
Mum, my jeans are filthy! Emma wailed.
Washing machines there. Detergents under the sink.
I dont know how!
Youll learn. Instructions are on the lid.
Nigel wore wrinkled shirts to work and ate at cafés. Money vanished fast.
Nina, this is ridiculous! Eating out every day!
Cook at home. Cheaper.
I cant!
YouTubes got a million recipes.
The house descended into squalordirty dishes, dusty floors. Nina watched but didnt intervene.
After two weeks, Emma tried boiling pasta. Forgot salt, overcooked itinedible mush.
Mum, help!
No. Learn.
Youre my mum! Youre supposed to!
My job is to care for minors. Cooking gourmet meals for you isnt in the contract. Bread, milk, cerealyou wont starve.
Nigel attempted scrambled eggs. Burnt them. Tried againedible.
Look, Nina! I made eggs!
She nodded and returned to her book. No praise, no applause.
By week three, the house was a tip. Emma sobbed over a mountain of laundry.
Mum, please! Just this once! Ive got nothing clean for school!
You were home all yesterday. Couldve washed them.
I was doing homework!
I work from home, cook, clean, take Annie to the park. I manage.
Youre an adult!
And you want adult privileges? Late nights, pocket money? Then act like one.
By months end, resistance crumbled. Emma learned to wash, cook basics, tidy. Nigel mastered eggs, pasta, even simple soup.
One evening, Nina returned from the park with Annie. The table was set, dinner ready. Nigel and Emma stood sheepishly.
Mum, we made dinner, Emma mumbled. I did salad, Dad roasted chicken.
Thank you, Nina said calmly.
Mum, were sorry, Emma whispered. We didnt realise… how hard it was for you.
Nina, well do better, Nigel added. Honestly. Well help.
Nina studied them. They hadnt magically changed.
