Nothing had changed.
I stepped into the flat, buoyant, a cake box cradled in my arms a cake bought especially for Mum and Brian.
From deep inside the flat a lowbeat tune drifted, beneath it muffled chatter.
My stepdads voice cut through, freezing me in the hallway.
How much longer must I put up with your Emily? Brian snapped, irritation clear. Shes a stone in my throat.
I held my breath, pressed flat against the wall. My heart hammered as if the whole house could hear it.
Dont get your knickers in a twist. Let her pay for the birthday and then she can be on her way. In the meantime, keep your nose clean and your mouth shut.
The words stole my breath. My fingers clenched so hard the cardboard box almost crumpled to a pancake.
Ah, so thats what they wanted from me, a thought flickered through my mind.
I slipped toward the door, trying to stay unseen. The moment it shut behind me, I tumbled down the stairs like a sack of potatoes.
Outside the sun shone just as bright, but the world had lost its colour. I sank slowly onto a bench in the small park opposite the house. The cake box rested on my knees, and I stared at it, trying to process what had just happened.
Five years of silence
Five long years I hadnt crossed the threshold of my parents house. I hadnt heard Mums voice, hadnt seen her face. And now a phone call and an invitation to a jubilee.
Brian had entered our lives when I turned fifteen a wiry boy with a sly squint and a perpetual grin.
Emily! hed shout, winking at Mum. Our lithe little thing, bonethin, shell fly away with the first wind!
Mum would burst into laughter at his jokes, looking at him as if he were reciting the greatest truths of humanity.
Brian, youre a character! shed clap, delighted.
I would sit, eyes down on my plate, trying to become invisible.
Mum, hes crossing the line, I once snapped.
Oh, youre such a child, shed wave it off. Its just jokes.
Day by day Mum drifted further away, an invisible wall rising between us. I clung to memories of Dad, who had always sheltered me, who believed in me.
Dad had been gone two years, but hed ensured my future. Hed opened a savings account where a monthly sum was deposited for my education a modest £200 a month. My dream was to finish school, head to Manchester, and get into university, to start a new life without Brian and his jokes that turned my world upside down. I believed. I waited.
Graduation
After the graduation night I felt like I was soaring on wings. School behind me, a new life ahead, just as Id imagined.
When I flung open the flats door, I stopped dead. Around the festive table sat about ten strangers Id never seen. The air smelt of roast and something sweetly cloying. Glasses clinked, laughter roared.
Brian, perched at the head of the table with Mum beside him, was the first to spot me.
Ah, our graduate finally graces us! he bellowed. Come join us, beauty! Lets celebrate double your school finish and my new boat!
I moved toward the table, uncertain. Someone shuffled aside, making room.
Ladies and gents, Brian gestured with a sweeping arm. Meet Emily, my stepdaughter.
Ive put my heart into her, raised her like my own! he bragged. His mates nodded, while I stood there, fork trembling in my hand.
Images flash: him forcing me to wash his car in the frost, laughing at my grades, insisting Id end up selling at the market after school.
Emilys a bit slow, Brian continued. Shes just finished school. Time to get a job, eh, love?
I stayed silent, poking at the salad.
Come off it, Brian, a guest laughed. Let the girl study.
What should she study? Brian mused, eyes narrowing. Work is what matters now. Ive already struck a deal with Mr. Patel shell be a shop assistant in his store. Standing behind a till isnt exactly Newtons calculus.
The table erupted in guffaws, and I felt the bile rise.
Betrayal
When Mum slipped away to the kitchen, I followed her.
Mum, I need to talk, I whispered.
She seemed a little tipsy, eyes glinting, movements loose.
Whats up? she asked, setting a stack of plates on the table.
Im applying to university in Manchester, my voice trembled. I need the money from my account.
Mum froze, then turned slowly.
What money? she asked, brow furrowing.
The one Dad set aside for my education, I repeated.
Oh, that, she waved a hand dismissively, as if it were nothing. Theres no money left.
The floor seemed to give way.
How can that be? I whispered. There was
Its not there, she cut in. Brian needed a boat, and weve got this lavish feast to fund.
I stared at her, not recognizing the mother who used to read me bedtime stories.
You spent my money? I couldnt believe my ears.
Technically it was in my account, Mum shrugged. And Brian does so much for us. He deserves a boat and a holiday.
At that moment the man of the hour stormed into the kitchen.
Emily! he shouted. Ive struck a deal with Mr. Patel. From Monday youll be his cashier! He laughed, delighted with himself.
I turned and slipped out of the kitchen, heading for my room. Hands shaking, I rummaged through the dresser, opening boxes.
Where were Dads gifts? Gold earrings, a chain with a pendant, grandmas ring
I found them hidden at the bottom of an old shoe box, untouched.
No stepdad in sight. Enough for now in Manchester.
I sat on the bed, stared at Dads photograph on the nightstand.
Ill manage, Dad, I whispered. I promise.
Unexpected call
Five years rushed by like a single day. Manchester welcomed me with rain, fog, and the warmth of new friends. University, a night job in a café, a dorm room with flatmate Megan. Life settled, and I tried not to dwell on the past.
My phone rang early on a Tuesday. An unknown number. I rarely answer such calls, but something made me press the green button.
Hello?
Emily! Sweetheart! Its so wonderful to hear your voice!
I stayed silent, gathering thoughts.
You there? Emily, can you hear me?
Yes, I replied briefly. I hear you.
Hows life treating you? her voice was oddly tender. I miss you, you have no idea!
Five years I tried not to think about it, and now youre suddenly nostalgic, I thought.
Everythings fine, I said dryly. Studying, working.
Oh, brilliant, dear! she gushed. Im turning fifty soon, can you believe it? Id love for you to come home for the big celebration.
I almost laughed at the sudden invitation.
Seriously? After everything?
Oh, stop bringing up the old stuff, she retorted, a hint of irritation returning. Young people make mistakes. Im truly sorry. I want us to be a family again.
I closed my eyes. In my mind Brians smug grin appeared.
What about Brian? I asked. Does he want to see me?
Of course! she replied too quickly. He asks about you all the time. Hes worried.
Alright, I said, surprising myself. Ill come.
Really? her voice trembled with genuine surprise. Oh, Im thrilled! When should I expect you?
In a week, I think.
After the call I sat at the window, wondering why Id agreed. What was I hoping to find? A glimpse of Mum? Maybe shed really have changed.
A week later I stood on the doorstep of my parents flat. Mum flung the door open and threw her arms around me.
Darling, youve grown! Youre a beauty! she babbled.
We sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, Mum recounting her neighbours, the local gossip. Then, almost offhand, she added:
Emily, Ive just realized my jubilee is coming, and Im flat broke. She lowered her eyes, guilt evident.
I want a proper celebration, not like the ones those rich folk throw, but Brian you know hes not exactly generous.
I took her hand, looked her in the eye.
Dont worry, Mum. Ill handle everything.
Setting my jaw, I stepped outside, thinking through the plan.
Theyll get what they deserve, I vowed. I slammed the flats door shut, making sure the sound carried.
Mom emerged a heartbeat later, forced smile plastered on her face.
Emily! I was wondering where you vanished to! Come in, tea?
I smiled back, handing her the cake box.
Thought Id treat you, I said, voice unusually upbeat. And I have a brilliant idea for your jubilee!
What is it? Mums eyes lit up.
Ive booked a swanky country restaurant for the celebration fountains, live music! I even hired a coach to ferry all the guests.
Mum clapped her hands like a child.
Oh, Emily, youre my golden girl! And Brian will love it!
Well make sure hes over the moon, I replied.
We settled back at the kitchen, Mum listing invitees. I listened halfheartedly, then slipped in:
By the way, my friends grandma, Svetla, is homeless. Im thinking of selling my halfshare of the flat to her.
Mums smile vanished, eyes narrowing.
Whats that about? she asked coldly.
Dont worry, I waved it off. Shes quiet, hardly ever leaves the room. No one will mind. Ill give you half the proceeds for living expenses.
Mums face hardened.
How much are we talking about?
I named a figure that made her eyes widen.
That much? Well then, let her move in.
I pulled a piece of paper from my bag, scribbling quickly.
Sign the deed, I said breezily.
Mum grabbed the pen, signed without even reading.
Perfect, I smiled. Now, what dress shall you wear?
The jubilee day was bright and warm. A large coach parked outside our house, guests in festive attire gathered. Brian, in full parade mode, strutted among them, gesturing wildly. Spotting me, his grin spread.
Oh, heres our benefactor! he shouted. Emily always knows how to thank us for a happy childhood!
Someone laughed; I returned a polite smile.
Everyone ready? I asked Mum.
Yes, darling, she replied. Arent you joining us?
Ill be there by taxi a bit later, I said. I still have a few things to sort.
Oh, youre such a caretaker!
The guests piled into the coach. I had arranged with the driver: half the fare paid up front, the rest on return. As the coach turned the corner, I dialed.
Hello, Victor? This is Emily. Could I view the flat today? As soon as possible, please.
I pictured the crowd arriving at the countryside restaurant, only to find no one waiting. Their phones dead, theyd have to split the cost of the return journey.
Half an hour later a tall, broadshouldered man arrived my buyer, Victor Stepanovich, a heavyweight trainer. Friendly but with eyes that missed nothing.
Everything as agreed. Im moving in today, he announced.
Excellent, I smiled. Im sure youll get along with the neighbours.
When he left, I walked once more through the flat where Id grown up. Memories, good and bad, crowded the rooms. Dads photograph still sat on the shelf in my bedroom. I slipped it into my bag.
Leaving the flat, I imagined Brians face when he learned about the new neighbour, and Mums realization that the restaurant would be empty and the money from my share would never reach her.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold. Yet as I shut the door behind me, a strange warmth settled in my chest.
