Oh, for heavens sake, stop pretending youre some heroine and acting like youve got it all under control, said Olivia, setting a bag of nappies and a box of infant porridge on the table. Ive seen your glossy posts. They look perfect. If only you knew how it really is.
Emma didnt glance at her sister. She sat hunched over her phone, face as stonecold as a statue. From the next room came the wail of her twoyearold son, Tommy, demanding attention. Emma didnt stir.
Tommy, Im coming! shouted a voice from the master bedroom, their mother, and she shuffled off to rock the little boy.
Olivia slipped off her coat, draped it over the back of a chair and turned back, irritation burning brighter than a candle in wind.
Tell me straight. Do you honestly think youre coping? That youre a brilliant mum? Or are you just parroting slogans from online groups?
Emma sighed, paused a heartbeat, but never met Olivias eyes.
Look, I never asked you to buy anything.
Right, you didnt. As always, you sit there hungry, swaddled in dirty nappies, while Mum serves soup and Dad buys diapers. Then you pretend to be the strong woman.
Silence fell. Even Tommys cries hushed behind the wall. Only the soft murmur of their mothers voice lingered. Olivia closed her eyes for a beat.
They had all been exhausted for the past year and a half.
Emma had walked out on her husband when Tommy was barely six months old. She left in a blaze of scandal, hurling accusations that he couldnt even wash a plate or change a nappy. Dennis, her ex, could only shrug. He juggled two jobs, arrived home late, so weary he sometimes fell asleep in his chair. Yet he tried: he washed bottles, lugged bags, even sang lullabies, however offkey.
Hes abandoned us, Emma had said then. He chose his work over us.
Olivia shrugged in silence: each person decides for themselves.
Except when that person sets up camp on anothers neck and refuses to claim child support. Emma now lived like she were on holiday. Her dad paid the bills, her mum cooked, and she proudly posted about inner strength and female independence.
Their mother entered the kitchen, two grey crescents under her eyes.
Tommys finally asleep, thank goodness. Olivia, why are you picking on Emma again?
Me? Pick on? Olivia was ready to laugh. You barely even wipe his bottom, and she wont even flinch. Shes happy with everything.
Im not asking for anything, mind you. No one owes anyone anything! Emma snapped.
Right, you owe nothing. You just lounge here and use everyones comforts.
A memory flashed: two months ago, dad had postponed fitting a crown on his tooth.
Its fine, Ill wait, he had said to Mum with a smile. We need to dress Tommy up, hes already looking like a little gentleman.
Dad never complained, ever. Later the family discovered he wasnt taking his crucial medication because there was no money for it. Olivia quietly transferred money to him, hoping it would go toward his pills.
Emma sprang up, slipped past Olivia, fleeing conversation as usual.
Olivia please, not like this Emma
Whats Emmas problem? Shes comfortable. Its just that her pride will kill you. Money cant be solved with puffedup words. Youve had a stroke, your dads heart is weak, and she pretends to be the heroine of a Hollywood melodrama: alone, proud, misunderstood.
Mum looked at her daughter with a pained gaze. Everyone understood, yet could do nothing.
Olivia walked toward the door, stopped, wanting to say something warm, something gentle so Mum wouldnt weep after she left.
Take care, Mum. Check the firstaid kit and speak with Dad. Ill bring the tablets tomorrow if they run out.
Ol thank you, Mum replied, her voice heavy with gratitude.
Olivia left without turning back, knowing shed see tears later.
A week passed. Olivias visits grew rarer. She didnt hold a grudge; she simply didnt want to witness the parents unraveling. She came to drop off cash, medicines, a tiny toy for Tommy, then left hurriedly. Emma accepted everything with a detached air, as if it were the natural order.
One morning, scrolling through contacts, Olivia stumbled on a nearly forgotten name: Kevin. He had once worked with Dennis. Hope pricked her heart. It felt like a sign.
Three days later they met in a modest café. Olivia fidgeted with a napkin. Dennis arrived seven minutes late, apologised, and sat opposite her. He looked thinner, a gauntness that made him appear older rather than slimmer.
You see he began after Olivias long tale. Im not abandoning my son. Ive tried to put things right. Its just when I send money, she sends it back and throws a fit.
They wont last much longer, Olivia sighed. Dad halves his pills. Mum turned down a spa retreat. And Emma she clings to some silly principles. No ones to blame for the bugs in her head.
Dennis nodded, his eyes showing a willingness to solve the mess.
Heres what well do. Ill transfer money to you, youll allocate it. Send receipts or photos thank you, no? well trust each other. I just want Tommy to have a normal life and your parents not to suffer because of all this.
Olivia hesitated, wondering if she was betraying anyone. But her sister wasnt a saint either.
Two days later the first transfer arrived: a hundred pounds. Olivia immediately sent the cash to her mother. Mum was surprised by the amount, not the fact that her daughter was still helping.
Another smaller transfer followed for Dads medication, then one for a pair of boots for Tommy.
Emma pretended not to notice, or perhaps she truly didnt.
One evening Olivia dropped by for a halfhour. Emma was in the bath, Tommy watched cartoons, Mum kneaded dumplings in the kitchen, and Dad rolled out the dough.
Olivia, we bought Tommy a new coat with your money! Mum beamed. Youre such a clever girl, always helping. Its getting awkward to keep taking maybe well manage on our own soon?
Olivia felt a pang. Shed accepted undeserved praise before, each time pressing on her conscience. Now the whole chain of assistance seemed ready to snap.
Mum I need to tell you and Dad something. Its not me. Its Dennis. Hes helping, she whispered.
Silence fell. Dad stopped kneading. Mum froze, spoon in hand.
Dennis? she repeated. Emma told us hed vanished completely.
Right. He said hed cut off her phone, but shes ignoring him everywhere, Olivia sighed. Doesnt matter. Truth always sits somewhere in the middle. The important thing is hes helping.
Parents took the news calmly, almost relieved. They kept accepting money without a flicker of guilt.
Then a new problem surfaced.
Thank heavens for Dennis. Its a little easier now, Mum murmured to Dad about the next months budget.
Mum didnt know Olivia was still awake, her ears sharp as a nightowl.
And then it all exploded.
So youve been taking money from my ex behind my back?! Emma stormed into the kitchen. Traitors! Youre all in on this!
A fullblown interrogation followed. Mum cracked under the pressure. Later Emma began calling Olivia in the dead of night.
You thought you were clever? Running things quietly? You humiliated me! My child doesnt need these handouts! Emma screamed.
What are you on about, Emma? Olivia replied drowsily, yawning. Im just doing what you lack both the strength and the conscience for. Stop blaming my illness on a healthy brain.
Forget it! Emma shrieked. I dont need anyones help! Ill survive on my own!
The argument halted. Emma gathered her things, shoved Tommy into the pram, slammed the door, and vanished into the night without a word of where she was headed.
A phrase from half a year ago, spoken by her friend Lila If you need anything, just call spun in Emmas head. It had seemed a pretty line then, now it was the only thread left to cling to.
Lila didnt refuse. She welcomed Emma, kissed Tommy, led them to a spare room, even warmed a simple dinner, then gently asked what had happened.
Alls well. Its just stifling here, Emma muttered. I want to live alone for a while. At yours first, then Ill manage.
The first night passed quietly. Lila found the company of one guest less boring. By morning, subtle grievances surfaced. Emma left dishes untouched, complained the food was either too salty or too greasy.
The next day she pilfered a sealed jar of coffee from the cupboard without asking a stash meant for gifts. That evening she begged for money.
Ive spent everything on nappies. Could you lend a bit? Please until I get back on my feet.
Lila forced a smile, promised to look into it. Later, as Tommy slept, Lila approached Emma, saying they needed to talk.
Listen Artie is coming over. You know, from Sheffield. Weve been planning this for ages. You understand
You want me to leave? Emma asked, bewildered.
Not exactly it just happened. Do you have anyone else you could stay with?
Yeah, I suppose Ill manage.
Emma packed in hushed silence, fighting tears. Lila moved about the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. Emma changed Tommys onesie, slipped on shoes, lingered uncertainly in the hallway, then left without a goodbye.
Standing on the stairwell, she felt a void she hadnt known in years empty, shameful, terrifying. Options twisted like knives in her chest. Returning to her parents was out of the question. Their pills and retreats could spin forever. With Lila, everything was already clear.
And then she recalled Dennis. Hed been desperate to rekindle things, though shed ignored him. Of all who could help, he was the only one left, so she dialed his number.
Hello?
Its me Emma. Tommy and I could we stay with you for a few days?
A surprised pause.
Of course, Denniss voice was cautious but warm.
The conversation ended, and an awkward, trustless cohabitation began.
Olivia was the first to learn of their reunion. Her parents tried calling Emma, but she didnt answer. By the third day they gave up; on the fourth, Olivia finally reached her.
Hello?
Yes, Emmas voice was thin, like a deflating balloon. Where are you? Whats happened?
Were at Denniss. Ill call back later.
Denniss? Is Tommy alright?
Yes. All fine.
Olivia raised an eyebrow, surprised. She managed a small smile: at least it was better than being stuck on her parents necks. All that remained was hope that the wounded pride that had pushed Emma toward Dennis wouldnt spark another split.
