“Im not cooking for everyone anymore! Just for myself and Annie.” “And whys that?” Nikita snapped. “Because in this family, Ive realised its every man for himself. So live with it!”
“Mum, wheres my breakfast?” Yana 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-eight point seven. Her throat burned, and her chest rattled with every breath.
“Yana, Im ill Grab something from the fridge.”
“Theres nothing in there! Just yoghurts for the little one!” Her daughter stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Its always about her!”
A cry rang out from the nursery. Annie had woken up. Nina forced herself to stand, her legs buckling as dark spots danced before her eyes.
“Nina, wheres my shirt?” Nikita called from the bathroom. “The blue striped one?”
“It should be in the wardrobe”
“Its not! Did you iron it yesterday?”
Nina leaned against the wall. Shed spent all day yesterday with a fever, trying to care for their youngest.
“No, I didnt get round to it.”
“Brilliant! Ive got a meeting!” He 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!” Yana 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 us!”
Silently, Nina carried Annie to the kitchen, pulled frozen burgers from the freezer, and set a frying pan on the hob.
“And make pasta!” Yana ordered, eyes glued to her phone.
As breakfast cooked, Nikita emerged from the bedroom in a crumpled shirt.
“Had to wear this one. I look like a tramp. Cheers for that!”
Nina said nothing. Speaking hurt, and she had no energy left for explanations.
“Sophies birthday partys today,” Yana announced, piling pasta onto her plate. “Im going after school. Ill be back late.”
“Yana, I feel awful. Could you stay and help with your sister?”
“Yeah, right! Ive waited six 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 behind her.
Nikita finished his breakfast, scrolling through news on his phone.
“Nikita, could you come home early today? I really dont feel well.”
“Cant. Work drinks after. You know how it is.”
“But Im sick”
“Take something. Paracetamol or whatever. Youre not bedridden. Tough it out.”
He kissed her foreheadhot and damp with sweatand left.
Nina was alone with their three-year-old. Annie demanded attention, food, play. Nina moved on autopilot, feeling her strength drain away.
By lunchtime, her fever hit thirty-nine. She managed to feed Annie, put her down for a nap, then collapsed onto the sofa. Her head throbbed, her heart raced.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Yana: “Mum, send money for Sophies present. Now!”
Nina didnt reply. She couldnt even lift the phone.
Nikita returned first that evening, tipsy and cheerful, carrying a bag from the off-licence.
“Got beer and crisps! Footys on!” He flopped onto the sofa and turned on the TV.
“Nikita, please feed Annie. I cant get up.”
“That bad?” He finally looked at his wife. “Why are you so red?”
“High fever. All day”
“Well, call an ambulance if its that bad. Wheres Annie?”
“In her cot. Shell wake soon.”
“Fine, Ill feed her. Once shes up.”
Annie woke half an hour later, crying for her mum. Reluctantly, Nikita tore himself from the TV and picked her up.
“Why are you crying? Come to Dad!”
But the toddler strained toward Nina, wailing louder. Nikita floundered.
“Nina, she wants you!”
“Give her a biscuit from the cupboard. And juice.”
“Where? I cant find anything!”
She forced herself up. The room swayed as she gripped the wall. Nina fetched the biscuit, poured juice into a sippy cup. Annie settled slightly.
Yana came home past midnight. Nina was still awakeher fever wouldnt let her sleep.
“Why didnt you answer my message?” Yana snapped. “I had to borrow money from Sophies mum! So embarrassing!”
“Yana, Ive had a fever all day”
“So? You couldnt pick up the phone? It takes two seconds!”
The next morning, Nina woke to Nikita shaking her shoulder.
“Nina, get up! Ive got work, and Annies screaming!”
Her fever had broken, but weakness remained. Nina rose, dressed Annie, and started breakfast.
“And my food?” Nikita asked.
“Make it yourself. Im taking Annie to nursery.”
“Me? I cant cook! And Im in a rush!”
“Youll learn.”
Something in her tone silenced him. He muttered under his breath and stomped to the kitchen.
When Nina returned, the house was a messdirty dishes, scattered clothes, unmade beds. Usually, 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?” Yana asked.
“No idea. Whatever you make.”
“What?!”
“Exactly. Im not cooking for everyone anymore. Just for me and Annie.”
“Why not?” Nikita scowled.
“Because in this family, Ive realised its every man for himself. So live with it!”
“Nina, whats got into you?” He reached for her, but she stepped back.
“Im tired of being a servant! Yesterday proved Im just unpaid staff to you.”
“Mum, I said sorry!” Yana lied.
“No, you didnt. Neither did Dad. No one even asked how I was.”
“Fine, sorry!” Yana huffed. “So we just starve now?”
“The fridge is full. Youve got hands. Cook.”
The first week was chaos. Yana threw tantrums, Nikita grumbled and slammed doors. Nina held firmcooking only for herself and Annie, washing only their clothes, cleaning only the nursery.
“Mum, my jeans are filthy! Everythings dirty!” Yana wailed.
“The washing machines right there. Detergents in the cupboard.”
“I dont know how!”
“Youll learn. Instructions are on the lid.”
Nikita went to work in wrinkled shirts, ate in cafés. Money vanished fast.
“Nina, this is ridiculous! Eating out every day!”
“Cook at home. Cheaper.”
“I dont know how!”
“YouTubes full of recipes.”
The house descended into squalordirty dishes, dusty floors. Nina saw it but didnt intervene. Only the nursery stayed clean.
After two weeks, Yana attempted pasta. Forgetting salt, overcooking itit turned to mush.
“Mum, help!”
“No. Learn.”
“Youre my mum! Youre supposed to!”
“My jobs to care for minors. Fancy meals arent in the contract. Bread, milk, cerealyou wont starve.”
Nikita tried scrambled eggs. Burnt them. Tried againedible this time.
“Look, Nina! I made eggs!”
She nodded and returned to her book. No praise, no fuss.
By week three, the flat was a tip. Yana wept 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!”
“And I work from home, cook, clean for Annie, take her out. I manage.”
“Youre the adult!”
“And you want adult privilegeslate nights, spending money? Then act like one.”
By months end, resistance crumbled. Yana learned to wash clothes, cook basics, tidy up. Nikita mastered eggs, pasta, even simple soup.
One evening, Nina returned from the park with Annie to a set table and the smell of food. Nikita and Yana stood with guilty faces.
“Mum, we made dinner,” Yana mumbled. “I did salad, Dad roasted chicken.”
“Thanks,” Nina said calmly.
“Mum, were sorry,” Yana
