You know, its funny how things turn out sometimes. So, Mum and Dad had this flat in Manchesterbought it years ago, and theyve been renting it out to students, room by room. Five of them in there! The moneys brilliant, honestly. Enough to keep them comfortable in retirement, Mum said, all excited.
I was happy for them, really. Theyd worked their whole lives, never had it easy. But then DadRobert, that isput down his newspaper and cleared his throat.
«Bet youre wondering wholl get the flat, eh? With three of you, its only natural,» he said, like it was some big revelation.
I blinked. Honestly, the thought hadnt even crossed my mind. Theyre still in good healthwhy would I be thinking about inheritance? But MumMargaretjust smirked, and her voice went all sharp.
«Oh, come off it, Emily. Course youve thought about it. Who wouldnt?»
I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.
«Anyway, weve decided. The flat goes to whoever takes the best care of us. Fairs fair, right?»
The kitchen went dead silent. I just stared. Was this some kind of competition? Dad coughed and looked past me.
«Weve spent our lives looking after you lotfeeding you, clothing you, sacrificing everything. Now its your turn to prove yourselves. And if were not satisfied…» He paused, letting it hang. «Well, lets just say you wont be seeing that flat.»
I was gobsmacked. They just sat there, waiting for applause or something. My throat closed up. I muttered something about needing to leave and bolted.
On the bus home, my head was spinning. What even was that? Some twisted auction? I called my older sister, Charlotte.
«Charlie, you wont believe what Mum and Dad just said,» I blurted out.
«The flat and the inheritance?» she sighed. «Yeah, they hit me with that yesterday. Still reeling.»
«What do we even do?» I pressed the phone closer, trying to hear over the bus noise.
«No clue. Weve always been there for themhelping with groceries, bills, dropping everything when they call. Meanwhile, our little brother, Daniel? Always too busy with work or his girlfriend.»
«How are they even judging who cares more?» I got off at my stop, still talking. «Gonna make a bloody scoreboard?»
Charlotte laughed, but it wasnt a happy sound.
«Pretty much. Maybe its for the best. At least well finally see where we stand. Though I reckon I already know wholl win.»
The next few weeks were hell. The calls never stopped. First one came late on a Wednesday.
«Emily, love,» Mum said, all demanding. «Weve got a doctors appointment tomorrow, and we need to pop by Tesco after. Can you take us? Your cars fixed now, isnt it?»
I had a huge meeting at nine.
«Mum, cant you get a cab?»
«A cab? Dont be daft! Since when does family charge for lifts?»
So, like always, I caved. Took the morning off, drove them around, and listened to how brilliant Daniel was.
Then Friday, right in the middle of a quarterly report, Dad rang.
«Love, the new sofas arrived. Need help getting it upstairs. Movers cost an arm and a leg these days.»
«Dad, Im at work»
«What kind of job wont let you help your own parents?»
Cue another half-day wasted, hauling furniture. My back ached for days.
Then Sundaymy one day off, finally booked a facialMum called.
«Emily, were doing a deep clean. Curtains down, chandeliers washed. Cant manage it alone at our age.»
Canceled the facial. Spent the day scrubbing their place while Mum sipped tea and gushed about Daniel.
«Hes so thoughtful,» she cooed. «Called us for ages last night!»
«When was the last time he actually came over to help?» I snapped, wiping sweat off my brow.
They exchanged looks. Mum pursed her lips.
«Dont take that tone. Daniels busy. Important job, not like you girls. Youre meant to helpits your duty! Hes the man of the family.»
I bit my tongue, but inside? Boiling.
A week later, I was back, doing their bloody picklingjars of cucumbers and tomatoes. They sat there, micromanaging.
«Less vinegar! More dill!» Mum barked.
«Daniel adours pickled cucumbers,» Dad mused. «Hell be chuffed when he visits.»
«And whens that?» I asked, twisting another lid.
«Dunno… hasnt been round in a month,» Mum admitted. «Very busy.»
I stopped. Wiped my hands. Turned to them.
«So the flat goes to me and Charlotte, then? Since were the ones actually helping, and Daniels never here?»
Mum went beetroot. She shot up, knocking over her tea.
«You selfish girl! Moneys all you care about! No thought for your brother! Hes the manhell bring a wife home one day! The flat should go to him! Hes the heir!»
Something inside me snapped. Years of dropping everything, sacrificingall for nothing. I untied my apron, turned off the stove. Left the half-done jars.
«Heir? What are we, chopped liver? Weve always been here. Always helped. But thats not enough, is it?»
I walked out. They scrambled after me.
«Emily, stop! Youre overreacting!» Dad called.
«The pickles! You cant leave them half-done!» Mum wailed.
I turned at the door. Not angry. Just tired.
«Im busy. Like Daniel. Find someone else to do your chores.»
Outside, I called Charlotte.
«Charlie, Im done,» I said, footsteps echoing in the stairwell.
«What happened?»
I told her. She went quiet, then sighed.
«Yknow what? Lets act like our dear brother. If hes the golden child, let him handle them. Well be the bad daughters.»
«Exactly what I was thinking,» I said, breathing in the crisp air.
And just like that, everything changed. Calls camewe said no. «Ask Daniel,» wed reply. Mum sulked. Dad huffed. But we held firm.
«Hes your heir. Let him step up,» Id say calmly.
A month later, I was walking through the park, leaves crunching underfoot. Reds, golds, orangeslike a carpet. I smiled.
For the first time in ages, Id actually lived.
My phone buzzed. Mum. I glanced at it, then pocketed it.
Let them call Daniel.
Hes the favourite, after all.
