In a small flat in London, Jenny sat in the kitchen gripping her phone tightly. Her mother’s voice on the line was both pleading and scolding, a quintessential mum, even when asking for help, there was pressure.
“Jenny, darling, how can you do this to your own niece? She’s expecting and has nowhere else to go!” her mother insisted.
“Mum, I do want to help, but…” Jenny hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Ella’s been living with me for eight months now. Remember when Aunt Valerie said it would just be for a couple of weeks until she found a job?”
“Well, yes, but finding a job is not easy these days…”
“She hasn’t even been looking!” Annoyance bubbled up inside Jenny. “Yesterday, she spent the whole day in the bathroom doing her hair masks, then watched TV shows. And then…”
“Jenny, but she’s pregnant…”
“She found out a month ago! What was her excuse before?”
There was a heavy pause. Jenny could hear her mother’s deep sigh—a signature sigh that always meant “You’re such a heartless daughter; I didn’t raise you this way.”
“Mum, this is my flat. You and Dad bought out Aunt Valerie’s share just for me, remember?”
“Technically,” her mother’s voice turned stern, “the flat is ours. We just let you live in it.”
Jenny closed her eyes. Here we go again.
“I thought it was a gift. For graduating from university.”
“Of course it was! But you must understand that in a family…”
“What should I do?” Jenny interjected. “Endure Ella eating my food, using my cosmetics, and bringing her boyfriend over when I’m not here? That boyfriend who’s now the father of her child, by the way.”
“Jenny! Aunt Valerie did so much for us! When your father was ill, who helped us? Who looked after you while I worked two jobs?”
Jenny sighed. She’d heard this guilt-trip tune a hundred times. The supposed unending debt to Aunt Valerie.
“Mum, I’m grateful to Aunt Valerie, truly. But that doesn’t mean I have to…”
“Aunt Valerie called yesterday,” her mother interrupted again. “She said you’re too hard on Ella. Picking on every little thing.”
Jenny rolled her eyes.
“Little things? She wore my new jumper without asking and spilled juice on it! Then she said, ‘Oh, you won’t mind, we’re family.’ And didn’t even apologize!”
“Oh come on, Jenny, it’s just a jumper…”
“It’s not about the jumper!” Jenny felt a lump forming in her throat. “It’s about respect. Personal boundaries. Feeling like a guest in my own home.”
Another pause followed. Then her mother spoke gently but firmly:
“You know, Grandma would be so upset hearing this. Family meant everything to her…”
“Don’t, Mum,” Jenny interrupted. “Don’t bring up Grandma every time you want to convince me of something.”
“It’s true! This flat is part of her legacy. She wanted…”
“She wanted what? For me to live with Ella forever? To tolerate her whims? To…”
Jenny’s phone chirped with an incoming call. Aunt Valerie. Of course.
“Mum, Aunt’s calling. Probably wants to tell me what a terrible sister I am.”
“Answer it, Jenny. Talk to her properly.”
“Okay,” Jenny sighed. “I’ll call you back later.”
She switched to the aunt’s call, bracing herself for another barrage of criticism.
“Hello, Aunt Valerie.”
“Jenny, dear!” her aunt’s voice sounded overly cheerful. “How are you, love?”
“Love.” Jenny grimaced. Her aunt only called her that when she wanted something.
“Fine,” she replied tersely.
“Ella was saying there’s some misunderstanding between you two?”
A misunderstanding, thought Jenny. Right.
“Aunt Valerie, when you and mum suggested Ella stay with me, you said it’d be for a week or two. A month at most.”
“Oh, don’t be so accounting about it, marking the days!” Her aunt laughed, irritation lacing her voice. “Family doesn’t do that.”
“What does family do then?” Jenny fumed. “Arrive unannounced? Help themselves to things without asking? Have friends over when I’m not around?”
“Jenny, darling… Ella’s just an open person; she doesn’t…”
“You know what she’s also used to? Having others make decisions for her. Mum and Dad bought this flat’s share so I could live here. It was a gift for me.”
“Well, not exactly,” her aunt’s voice grew cold. “It’s Grandma’s flat. A shared legacy. Your mother and I just agreed…”
“You agreed to sell your share to my parents,” Jenny asserted. “And they paid the full market value for it.”
“Money, money!” her aunt’s voice hit a hysterical pitch. “Everything is about money! And have you thought about Ella being pregnant? Where can she go? Onto the street?”
“She’s got a boyfriend. The father of her baby, remember?”
“He’s irresponsible, without a place of his own! Left London the minute he found out about the pregnancy.”
“Funny that,” thought Jenny, but she said:
“Aunt Valerie, you have a three-bedroom house. You and Uncle Kevin live there alone. Why can’t Ella stay with you?”
Silence. Jenny could almost feel her aunt picking words carefully.
“We have… limited space. Uncle Kevin needs quiet for his home office. Besides, you and Ella have always been close. Like sisters. When the baby comes, it’ll be a great experience for you.”
“Like sisters.” Jenny couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Ella was always the one who’d get away with things. Sweet, careless Ella, who “just doesn’t think about consequences.” Meanwhile, Jenny was the “responsible,” “sensible,” “mature beyond her years” one. The one expected to give way, understand, forgive.
“Aunt Valerie, I can’t do this anymore. I’ll talk to Ella tonight. She needs to find somewhere else to live.”
“What? You can’t! She’s pregnant! The stress, you’ll harm the baby!”
Jenny struggled to hold back the urge to hurl insults. Here it was: the trump card. If guilt-tripping through “family values” didn’t work, it was about the baby’s well-being.
“I’m not throwing her out immediately. I’m giving her time to find…”
“I’m calling your mum!” her aunt cut in. “It’s just… outrageous! After all we’ve done for you.”
The line went dead. Jenny slowly set the phone down on the table, her hands trembling.
The front door slammed. High heels clicked across the hallway.
“Jen! You home? You won’t believe who I ran into—Katie, remember from school? She’s married now! To some rich tech guy. We saw her ring, and I was almost blinded by the sparkle!”
Ella breezed into the kitchen, tanned, new manicure, expensive jeans. No sign of a pregnant woman in distress.
“Listen, I was thinking…” Ella plopped into the chair opposite Jenny. “Maybe we should rearrange the furniture. The sofa should really be by the window. And when the baby arrives, we’ll need a little corner for the crib…”
Jenny looked at her, feeling something snap inside. The last thread of patience.
“Ella, we need to talk.”
“Oh, not now, please,” Ella waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve got a headache. These pregnancy hormones are a nightmare! I’ll just lie down for a bit.”
She rose and started to leave the kitchen.
“Ella,” Jenny raised her voice. “You need to move out.”
Ella froze in the doorway. She turned slowly.
“What?”
“You need to move out,” Jenny repeated, calm now. “I’m giving you a month to find a place.”
Ella stared at her, disbelief etched on her features.
“You’re joking, right?” she finally managed. “This is some kind of joke?”
“No. I’m completely serious.”
Ella’s face contorted with disbelief.
“You… you can’t! It’s Grandma’s flat! I have as much right to be here as you do!”
“No, Ella. My parents bought out your mother’s share. Legally, it belongs to them.”
“I don’t care about legally!” Ella’s voice rose. “We’re family! Don’t you understand? I’m pregnant! I have nowhere to go!”
“You’ve got parents. You have the baby’s father. And friends, too.”
“I’m calling Mum!” Ella yanked her phone from her pocket. “She’ll sort you out!”
“Don’t bother,” Jenny shook her head. “They’ve already called. So has Mum.”
“And?”
“And nothing. My decision stands.”
Ella glared at her, pure hatred in her eyes.
“So that’s it? You’re throwing a pregnant relative out on the street? Mum and Aunt Irene will handle this. You’ll regret it!”
She spun around and stormed out of the kitchen. A moment later, the front door slammed shut.
Jenny sat, staring out the window. Oddly, she didn’t feel the guilt she expected, only relief. And exhaustion. An endless weariness from playing the “family values” game where values seemed to be one-sided.
Her phone vibrated. A message from Mum: “Aunt Valerie’s in a state. What have you done?”
Jenny didn’t reply. Instead, she opened her browser and searched “London apartment rentals.”
Three months had passed. Jenny sat in a café on Oxford Street, watching the rain drizzle down the windows. Across from her sat Mike, her boyfriend, who she’d met back in Manchester, but who’d moved to London six months earlier.
“So, do you regret it?” he asked, stirring his tea.
Jenny shook her head.
“No. I just wish I’d done it sooner.”
Her phone vibrated with another call from Dad.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hello, love,” her father’s voice was unusually formal. “I have news.”
“What kind of news?”
“We’ve sold the flat.”
Jenny was taken aback.
“Grandma’s? But what about…”
“Ella moved back in with her parents,” Dad chuckled. “After you left, she tried to stay on there, but… Well, your mum and I decided enough was enough. We’ve sold the flat and will transfer the money to you.”
“What?” Jenny was incredulous. “To me?”
“Yes, to you,” her dad’s voice smiled. “It was meant as a gift, remember? For graduating university. We just… got a bit lost in the process. Gave in to the pressure. We’re sorry.”
Jenny felt tears welling up.
“Dad, I don’t know what to say…”
“Don’t say anything. Just be happy. And… we’re proud of you. Standing up for yourself, even if we didn’t initially support you.”
After ending the call, Jenny sat quietly for a while, staring out at the street.
“What happened?” Mike asked, covering her hand with his.
“I think,” Jenny smiled softly, “I just grew up. For real.”
Outside, the rain continued to fall, washing away past grievances and unveiling a blank canvas for a new life. A life where she was in charge of opening her home and heart.
