Nothing has changed. I step into the flat in a buoyant mood, a box of cake in my hands I bought it especially for Mum and Brian.
From somewhere deep in the flat music drifts, muffled voices underneath it.
The name my stepdad calls me makes me freeze in the hallway.
How many more years must I put up with your Poppy? Brians voice sounds irritated. Shes a pain in the neck.
I hold my breath, pressed against the wall.
My heart pounds so hard I swear they could hear it.
Dont get worked up. Let her pay for the anniversary, then she can go off. For now keep your voice down, lower than the grass.
The words snatch the breath from my lungs.
My fingers clench so hard the cardboard box nearly crumples into a pancake.
Right, so thats how they meant me, I think.
I tiptoe toward the door, trying to stay unseen.
As soon as the door shuts behind me I tumble down the stairs like a sack of potatoes.
Outside the sun shines just as brightly, but the world suddenly loses all colour.
I slump onto a bench in the park opposite the house.
The cake box rests on my knees and I stare at it uselessly, trying to grasp what just happened.
Five years of silence. Five long years I have not crossed the threshold of my parents house.
I have not heard Mums voice, I have not seen her face.
And now a call and an invitation to an anniversary.
Brian entered our lives when I turned fifteen.
Small, with a sly squint and a perpetual grin.
Poppy! he shouts, winking at Mum. Our slim one, bonethin, honestly. Shell be blown away by the first wind!
Mum bursts into laughter at his jokes. She looks at him with such admiration as if hes reciting the greatest truths of humanity.
Brian, youre something else! she claps. What a joker!
I sit with my eyes down on the plate, trying to become invisible.
Mum, hes overstepping, I finally say one day.
Oh, darling, youre being dramatic, she waves off. Its just jokes.
Each day Mum drifts farther from me, as if an invisible wall has risen between us.
I cling to memories of Dad, who always protected me, who believed in me.
My biological father has been gone for two years, but he arranged my future.
He opened an account that receives a monthly sum for my education. My dream is to finish school, move to Manchester, and get into university to start a new life without Brian, without his jokes that turn my world upside down.
I believe. I wait.
Graduation
After the graduation party I feel like Im soaring on wings. School is behind me; ahead lies the new life Ive always imagined.
I fling open the flats door and freeze. At the festive table sit about ten strangers to me.
The air smells of roast beef and something sweet. Glasses clink, laughter booms.
Brian, perched at the head of the table with Mum beside him, spots me first.
Ah, our graduate has arrived! he bellows. Come over, beautiful! Lets celebrate a double occasion your school finish and my new boat!
I wander bewildered to the table. Someone shifts, making room.
Ladies and gentlemen, Brian gestures at the crowd. Meet Poppy, my stepdaughter. Ive poured my heart into her, raised her like my own!
His friends nod, and I stand frozen with a fork in my hand.
Images flash: him forcing me to wash his car in the frost, laughing at my grades, constantly insisting that after school Ill sell at the market.
Poppys a bit of a headcase, Brian continues. Shes just finished school. Now shell go to work, right, love?
I stay silent, poking at the salad.
Come off it, Brian, a guest laughs. Let the girl study.
Whats there to study? Brian squints. Works more important now. Ive already arranged with Mr. Patel shell be a sales assistant in his shop. Standing behind a counter isnt exactly Newtons binomial.
The table erupts in chuckles, and I feel something boil inside me.
Betrayal
When Mum slips away to the kitchen, I follow.
Mum, I need to talk, I whisper.
She looks a little tipsy, eyes glittering, movements loose.
What is it? she says, awkwardly placing a stack of plates on the table.
Im applying to university in Manchester, my voice trembles. I need the money from my account.
Mum freezes, then turns slowly to me.
What money? she asks, frowning.
The money Dad set aside for my education, I repeat.
Oh, that, she waves his hand as if its nothing. Theres no money left.
The world tilts beneath my feet.
How can there be none? I whisper. There was
Its gone, she snaps. Brian needed it for a boat. And look at this feast weve thrown.
I stare at her, not recognizing the mother who used to read me bedtime stories.
You spent my money? I cant believe my ears.
Technically it was in my account, Mum shrugs. And Brian does so much for us. He deserves a boat and a holiday.
At that moment the man of the celebration bursts into the kitchen.
Poppy! he shouts. Ive sorted things with Mr. Patel. From Monday you start in his shop as a cashier! He laughs loudly, pleased with himself.
I turn and slip out of the kitchen, heading to my room.
With trembling hands I pull open the dresser drawers, rummage through boxes.
Where are Dads gifts? Gold earrings, a chain with a pendant, Grandmas ring
Found them! Hidden at the bottom of an old shoe box, untouched.
My stepdad never made it. For now, Manchester will have enough.
I sit on the bed, look at Dads photo on the nightstand.
Ill manage, Dad, I whisper. I promise.
Unexpected call
Five years flash by like a single day. Manchester greets me with rain, fog, and the warmth of new friends.
University, a night shift in a café, a dorm room with flatmate Maggie.
Life settles, and I try not to dwell on the past.
My phone rings early Tuesday morning. An unknown number.
I usually ignore such calls, but something makes me press the green button.
Hello?
Poppy! Darling! How glad I am to hear you!
I stay silent, gathering my thoughts.
Are you there? she asks. Poppy, can you hear me?
Yes, I answer shortly. I hear you.
How are you? Hows life? her voice sounds oddly affectionate. I miss you so much, you cant imagine!
Five years I didnt think about it, and now Im suddenly missing you, flashes through my mind.
Everythings fine, I reply dryly. Studying, working.
Oh, brilliant! she exclaims. Im about to celebrate my anniversary. Ill be fifty soon, can you believe it?
Id love for you to come, she says.
I almost laugh at the surprise.
Seriously? After everything?
Oh, stop bringing up the old stuff, she says, a hint of irritation in her tone. Its all new. Everyone makes mistakes.
Im really sorry. I want us to be a family again!
I close my eyes. Brians smug face with his eternal grin appears.
Is Brian coming too? I ask.
Of course! she answers too quickly. He asks about you all the time. Hes worried.
Alright, I say, surprising myself. Ill come.
Really? her voice shows genuine astonishment. Oh, Im so happy! When should I expect you?
In a week, I think.
After the call I sit by the window for a long time. Why did I agree? What am I hoping to find? Part of me wants to see Mum. Maybe shes really changed.
A week later I stand on the threshold of my parents flat. Mum opens the door and throws herself around my neck.
Darling! Look how youve grown! Youre gorgeous! she babbles.
We sit in the kitchen, drink tea, and Mum talks about her life, neighbours, acquaintances.
Then, almost offhand, she adds:
Poppy, I just realised my anniversary is coming up and Ive got no money, she says, eyes downcast.
I want to celebrate properly, not like the others. But Brian you know how frugal he is.
I take her hand, look into her eyes.
Dont worry, Mum. Ill cover everything.
Settling on a bench, I think everything through, straighten my back and stride back to the house.
Theyll get what they deserve, I promise myself.
I slam the flats door shut so loudly they can hear.
A moment later Mum emerges, a strained smile on her face.
Poppy! I was wondering where you vanished to! Come in, lets have tea, she sings.
I smile back and hand her the cake box.
Here, I thought Id treat you, I say, my voice brighter than usual. And Mum, I have a brilliant idea!
What is it? Mums eyes sparkle with curiosity.
Ive booked a fancy restaurant out of town for your anniversary! Imagine a fountain, live music! I gush. I even arranged a coach to bring all the guests!
Mum claps her hands like a child.
Oh my God, Poppy, youre my golden girl! she exclaims, hugging me. And Brian will love it!
Yes, I think hell be over the moon.
We sit at the kitchen table and Mum lists who shes invited. I halflisten, then interject:
By the way, my friend Svets grandma has nowhere to stay. Im thinking of selling my share of the flat to her.
Mums smile vanishes, eyes narrow.
Whats that about? she asks coldly.
Dont worry! I wave carelessly. Dont you want to buy it yourselves?
The old lady barely leaves her room. No one will mind. Ill give you half the money from the sale for living costs.
Mums face changes in an instant.
So, how much are we talking about?
I name a sum that makes Mums eyes widen.
That much?! she breathes. Fine, then let her move in.
I pull a sheet of paper from my bag and start scribbling.
Sign the notice of share sale, I say nonchalantly.
Mum grabs a pen and, without reading, signs.
Great, I smile. Now lets pick out your dress for the anniversary.
The day of the anniversary is sunny and warm.
A large coach is already parked by our house, guests in festive attire line up.
Brian struts through the crowd, gesturing loudly, telling stories.
Spotting me, his grin widens.
Oh, look whos here our benefactor! he shouts. Poppy always knows how to thank us for a happy childhood!
Someone laughs, I return a gentle smile.
Everyone ready? I ask Mum.
Yes, love, she replies. Arent you coming with us?
Ill arrive by taxi a bit later, I explain. I still have a few things to settle.
Oh, how caring of you!
The guests board the coach.
Ive arranged with the driver: half the fare now, the rest on return.
When the coach disappears around the corner, I pull out my phone.
Hello, Victor? This is Poppy. Could I view the flat today? Right now, if that works.
I picture the crowd, led by Mum and Brian, arriving at the countryside restaurant that nobodys actually waiting for, phones dead, having to split the cost of the return trip.
Half an hour later a broadshouldered man in a tracksuit pulls up my buyer Victor Stead, a weightlifter, friendly but with a stare that says he means business.
Everything as agreed, he says. Im moving in today.
Excellent, I smile. I think youll get along with the neighbours quickly.
After he leaves I walk once more through the flat where I grew up. Memories flood good and bad.
Dads photograph still sits on the shelf in my room. I carefully slide it into my bag.
As I close the door of the flat Ill never return to, I picture Brians reaction to his new neighbour and Mum realizing no ones waiting for them at the restaurant, and the money from my share never reaching her.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
But as I shut the door, a warm feeling settles inside me.
