Im not cooking for everyone anymore! Just for myself and Annie.
And why on earth not? snapped Nigel.
Because in this family, Ive realised, its every man for himself. So, carry on living like that!
Mum, wheres my breakfast? barged in Jessica, swinging the bedroom door open without knocking. Im going to be late for school!
Nina tried to sit up, but her head spun. The thermometer read 38.7. Her throat burned, her chest rattled.
Jess, Im poorly Grab something from the fridge.
Theres nothing in there! Just yoghurts for the baby! Jessica stood arms crossed in the doorway. Its always about her!
A wail came from the nursery. Little Annie was awake. Nina forced herself up, legs wobbling, her vision swimming.
Nina, wheres my shirt? Nigel popped out of the bathroom. The blue striped one?
Should be in the wardrobe
It isnt! Did you iron it yesterday?
Nina leaned against the wall. Yesterday, shed spent the whole day feverish, looking after the youngest.
No, didnt get round to it.
Brilliant! Ive got a meeting! Nigel slammed the bathroom door in frustration.
Annies cries grew louder. Nina shuffled to the nursery, scooping her up. The little girl clung to her, sniffling.
Mum! Jessica shrieked 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, feeding us is *your* job!
Silently, Nina trudged to the kitchen, Annie in her arms. She pulled frozen burgers from the freezer, slapped a pan on the hob.
And make pasta! Jessica commanded, eyes glued to her phone.
While breakfast sizzled, Nigel emerged, wrinkled shirt and all.
Had to wear this. Look like a tramp. Cheers for that!
Nina said nothing. Speaking hurt, and she had no energy left for explanations.
Sophies birthdays today, Jessica announced, piling pasta onto her plate. Im going over after school. Back late.
What?
Mum, Im not missing it! Ive waited months for this!
Jess, I feel awful. Could you stay and help with your sister?
Yeah, right! Not my problem!
She grabbed her bag and stormed out, door slamming behind her.
Nigel scarfed his breakfast, scrolling through his phone.
Nigel, could you come over early today? I really dont feel well.
Cant. Work drinks after. You know how it is.
But Im *ill*.
Take a paracetamol or something. Youre not bedridden. Tough it out.
He pecked her sweaty forehead and left.
Nina was alone with her three-year-old. Annie demanded attention, food, play. Nina moved on autopilot, feeling her strength drain.
By lunch, her fever hit 39. She managed to feed Annie, put her down for a nap, then collapsed on the sofa. Her head pounded; her heart raced.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Jessica:
*Mum, send money for Sophies present. NOW!*
Nina didnt reply. Couldnt even lift the phone.
Nigel was first home that evening, tipsy, swinging a corner-shop bag.
Got beer and crisps! Match tonight! He flopped onto the sofa, telly blaring.
Nigel, please feed Annie. I cant move.
That bad? He finally looked at her. Whyre you so red?
High fever. All day
Well, call the GP if its that bad.
Shes in her cot. Shell wake soon.
Fine, Ill feed her. When shes up.
Half an hour later, Annie woke crying for Mum. Nigel sighed, prised himself off the sofa.
Stop whinging! Come to Dad!
But Annie only screamed louder, straining towards Nina. Nigel panicked.
Nina, she wants *you*!
Biscuits in the cupboard. Juice in the fridge.
Where? I cant find anything!
Nina forced herself up. The room tilted. She grabbed the wall, fetched the snacks. Annie calmed a little.
Jessica rolled in past midnight. Nina was still awake, fever burning.
Why didnt you reply? Jessica snapped. I had to borrow money from Sophies mum! So embarrassing!
Jess, Ive been at deaths door
Excuses! Two seconds to text back!
Next morning, Nigel shook her awake.
Nina, up! Ive got work, and Annies kicking off!
Her fever had broken, but exhaustion remained. She dressed Annie, moving slowly.
What about breakfast? Nigel asked.
Sort yourself. Im taking Annie to nursery.
*Me?* I cant cook!
Learn.
Something in her tone shut him up. He grumbled off to the kitchen.
When Nina returned, the house was a bombsite. Dirty dishes, strewn laundry, crumpled bedding. Normally, shed clean immediately. Not today.
She showered, drank tea, and went back to bed.
That evening, the family gatherednot for dinner, but around an empty table.
Mum, whats for tea? Jessica asked.
Dunno. Whatever *you* make.
*What?*
Exactly that. Im not cooking for everyone anymore. Just me and Annie.
Oh, come *on*! Nigel huffed.
In this family, Ive realised, its every man for himself. So, crack on!
Nina, dont be daft He reached for her, but she stepped back.
Im done being skivvy! Yesterday proved itIm just unpaid staff.
Mum, I *said* sorry! Jessica lied.
No, you didnt. Neither of you even asked how I was.
Fine, *sorry*! Jessica muttered. So we just starve?
Fridge is full. Youve got hands. Cook.
The first week was hell. Jessica tantrumed; Nigel sulked and slammed doors. Nina held firmcooking, cleaning, and washing only for herself and Annie.
Mum, my jeans are filthy! Jessica wailed.
Washing machines right there. Detergent under the sink.
I dont *know* how!
Google it.
Nigel wore crumpled shirts to work, ate at cafes. Money vanished fast.
Nina, this is ridiculous! Eating out every day!
Cook at home. Cheaper.
I *cant*!
YouTube it. Millions of tutorials.
The house descended into chaosdirty dishes, dusty floors, piles of laundry. Nina watched, unmoved. Only the nursery stayed tidy.
Two weeks in, Jessica attempted pasta. Forgot salt, overcooked itmush.
Mum, *help*!
Nope. Learn.
Youre my *mother*! You *have* to!
My jobs keeping minors alive. Cooking you gourmet meals isnt in the contract. Bread, milk, cerealyou wont starve.
Nigel tried scrambled eggs. Burnt them. Tried againedible.
Look, Nina! I made eggs!
She nodded, turning a page. No praise. No applause.
By week three, the flat resembled a landfill. Jessica sobbed over a mountain of laundry.
Mum, *please*! Ive got nothing clean for school!
You were home all yesterday. Couldve washed them.
I had *homework*!
And I work, cook, clean, and mind Annie. Still manage.
Youre the *adult*!
And you want adult *privileges*? Late nights, spending money? Then act like one.
By months end, resistance crumbled. Jessica learned to wash, cook basics, tidy. Nigel mastered eggs, pasta, even a simple soup.
One evening, Nina returned from the park with Annie. The kitchen table was set. Food simmered. Nigel and Jessica stood, sheepish.
Mum we made dinner, Jessica mumbled. I did salad. Dad roasted chicken.
Thanks, Nina said evenly.
Mum, were sorry, Jessica whispered. We didnt get it how hard it is.
Nina, well do better, Nigel added. Promise.
She studied them. They hadnt magically transformed. But fear
