«You’ll be cooking for my sister’s family too,» her husband said in that tonethe one he’d soon regret.
Emily stood by the window, watching a cramped white van pull up outside. Her chest tightenedshe knew what this meant. For three days, Daniel had been giving her those guilty looks, clearly working up to something big.
«Em,» he’d started carefully the night before, «remember how I mentioned Sarah’s having trouble with her flat?»
Oh, she remembered. His sister had been renting a two-bed in Croydon for yearsher, her husband Mark, and their two kids, ten-year-old Oliver and six-year-old Charlotte. The place was fine, the landlord decent, but there was a hitchthe landlords daughter was getting married, and the newlyweds needed somewhere. The tenants had to go.
«Theyve asked to stay with us for a bit,» Daniel had gone on, avoiding her eyes. «Just till they find something…»
Emily said nothing. What could she say? Sarah was his only sister. You dont turn family away. And it wasnt like they could just leave them on the street.
«How long?» was all she asked.
«Two, maybe three weeks tops,» Daniel replied quickly. «Theyre looking hard. Marks even got an estate agent on it.»
Now, watching suitcases, a mountain of toys, and a cat carrier being unloaded, Emily knew «three weeks» was wishful thinking.
The kids charged in firstOliver with his football, Charlotte dragging a massive teddy bear, babbling excitedly. The adults followedSarah with the cat, Mark with the luggage, Daniel with boxes.
«Em!» Sarah beamed the second she stepped inside. «Thank you so much for having us. Well be out of your hair as soon as»
Emily hugged her sister-in-law, genuinely feeling for her. Sarah had always been sweet, a bit helpless. Married young, kids straight after uni, her world was just home and family. She freelanced in graphic design, but Mark still called most of the shots.
«Mum, where are we sleeping?» Charlotte asked immediately, scanning the flat.
Emily and Daniels two-bed was cosy but tight. Master bedroom for them, the smaller one a living room with a sofa bed. Kitchen barely big enough to turn around. Perfect for twoa squeeze for six.
«Well take the sofa bed,» Sarah said quickly. «The kids can sleep on the floor in here? Or»
«That sofa pulls out,» Daniel pointed out. «Theyll fit.»
«What about Mittens?» Charlotte fretted.
«Mittensll stay in the hallway,» Mark decided. «Plenty of space for her litter tray.»
Two hours later, their neat little flat looked like a student house after freshers’ week. Kids stuff everywhere, suitcases blocking the corridor, the cat hiding under the sofa. The air smelled like takeaways and unfamiliar shampoo.
Emily watched her quiet life evaporate. The worst part? How easily everyone settled in, like it was communal property.
«Em, where dyou keep the loo roll?» Sarah asked, popping her head into the bathroom.
«Under the sink.»
«Mind if I grab a towel? We didnt bring all ours yet.»
«Course not.»
By evening, it was clear: life as they knew it was over. The kids played tag, the cat yowled, the adults debated flat-hunting strategies.
«Tomorrow well hit that agency near Waterloothe one with the decent reviews,» Mark was saying. «Then Thursday, well drive around Peckham, see whats going.»
«Just nothing too pricey,» Sarah sighed. «Budgets tight.»
«Well sort it,» Daniel said, overly confident. «Worst case, you stay a little longer.»
Emily shot him a look. *Longer?* He flinched and turned away.
«Right, Ill start dinner,» Emily said, retreating to the kitchen.
She pulled food from the fridge, mentally calculating portions. She shopped for two, maybe three with leftovers. Now there were six mouths to feed, including kids who ate like grown men.
«Whats for dinner?» Oliver asked, poking his head in.
«Dunno yet.»
«At home, Mum always makes fish fingers and mash,» Charlotte chimed in.
«Were out of fish fingers,» Emily said, rummaging in the freezer.
For six, she had one chicken, pasta, veg, and yesterdays leftover soup. Would that stretch?
«Em, dont stress,» Sarah said, drifting in. «Well eat anything.»
«Yeah, but there might not be enough.»
«Well do a big shop tomorrow.»
Emily nodded and started chopping the chicken. Something told her tomorrows «big shop» would land on her too.
Dinner was meagre. Chicken and pasta for six wasnt the same as for two. The kids devoured theirs; the adults pretended they werent still hungry.
«Thanks, lovely,» Sarah said.
«Spot on,» Mark agreed.
After dinner, everyone scatteredkids to bed, adults to their makeshift spaces. Emily cleaned the kitchen alone while the others settled in.
«Hows it going?» Daniel asked, wandering in.
«Fine.»
«Dont worry, theyll find a place soon.»
«Mmm.»
He caught the frost in her voice but let it slide. Too much drama for one day.
The next morning, Emily woke to shrieks and tiny feet thundering down the hall. Six-thirty. She usually got up at seven, but the kids had other plans.
«Shh, shh,» Sarah hissed. «Auntie and Uncle are still asleep!»
Too late. Emily was up, and sleep wasnt coming back.
In the kitchen, a tower of dirty dishes sat untouchedsomeone had made midnight tea, and the kids had raided the biscuit tin.
«Morning!» Sarah chirped. «Was gonna wash up, but I wasnt sure where everything goes.»
«Ill do it,» Emily said automatically.
Breakfast was a military operation. Daniel gulped coffee before work, Mark rushed out, Sarah fed the kids, and Emily flitted between them, playing short-order cook.
«Em, any cereal left?» Sarah asked.
«Think so.»
«What about yoghurt?»
«One left.»
«Lottie, have cereal,» Sarah told her daughter.
«Dont want cereal! Want yoghurt like at home!»
«Lottie, theres one yoghurt and two of you,» Emily explained.
«Then Ollie shouldnt have any!»
«I want it too!» Oliver protested.
«Enough,» Sarah cut in. «Cereal. End of.»
By the time the men left and the kids calmed down, Emily felt like shed run a marathon. And it was only 9 AM on day one.
«Sarah, dont you work?» Emily asked.
«I do, but remotely. Ill hop on my laptop now. Kidsll watch tellytheyre quiet with cartoons.»
Emily nodded and escaped to the bedroomthe last scrap of peace.
It lasted thirty minutes.
«Auntie Em,» Charlotte knocked. «Can I have juice?»
Emily handed her a glass and went back.
Twenty minutes later:
«Auntie Em, I need the loo.»
Half an hour after that:
«Auntie Em, Mum says can we use the washing machine?»
By lunch, Emily accepted the truth: working from home was impossible now. Kids demanded snacks, the cat yowled, Sarah took client calls.
«Em, whats for lunch?» Sarah asked at one.
«No clue. What dyou usually have?»
«Oh, well throw something together. You got potatoes?»
«Some.»
«Meat?»
«Chicken in the freezer.»
«Brill, chicken and potatoes then.»
Emily noticed Sarah said *»well* throw together,» but made zero move toward the stove.
«You cooking?» Emily clarified.
«Oh! Yes, totally,» Sarah said distractedly. «Just gotta finish this project by three. Maybe you start, and Ill jump in after?»
Emily turned to the counter without a word.
By evening, she was at breaking point. Shed cooked, cleaned, soothed the cat, and played referee to the kids. Her own work? Untouched.
When the men got home, the air was thick.
«Hows it been?» Daniel asked.
«Peachy,» Emily said flatly.
At dinner, Mark gave the flat-hunting update:
«Saw two today. Ones too dear, the others a dump. Viewing a few more tomorrow.»
«No rush,» Daniel said generously. «Plenty of space here.»
Emily glared. *Plenty of space?* In a two-bed with six people?
«Not forever, obviously,» Sarah said weakly.
«Course not. But stay as long as you need.»
After dinnerkids in bed, adults zoning out in front of the tellyEmily cornered Daniel in the kitchen.
«Daniel. We need to talk.»
«About?»
«This isnt working.»
«How?»
«I cant work with the kids underfoot. Im cooking for an army, cleaning up after everyone…»
«Em, just hang in there. Shes my sister.»
«I get that. But why am I the only one doing everything?»
«Sarahs got the kids, were at work»
«And Im not working?»
«Well, youre home»
«Being home doesnt mean Im free labour!»
Daniel sighed.
«Fine. Ill talk to Sarah. Shell help more.»
«And Mark.»
«And Mark.»
But the next day, nothing changed. Sarah was still «swamped,» the men still left, and Emily drowned in other peoples chaos.
By day three, she snapped.
«Right,» she announced at dinner. «Were setting up a rota. Im not being the live-in chef.»
«Absolutely,» Sarah agreed hastily. «Ill cook tomorrow.»
«And we take turns cleaning,» Emily added.
«Fair enough,» Mark nodded.
Next morning, Sarah had «an urgent deadline» and asked Emily to «cover.» Mark left early. Daniel was «busy.»
«So me again,» Emily muttered.
That evening, shed had enough.
«Daniel, this stops now.»
«What does?»
«Im not your familys maid.»
«Youre overreacting.»
«Am I? Who cooked breakfast today?»
«Well… you.»
«Lunch?»
«You.»
«Dinner?»
«Still you, but»
«Who washed up?»
«Em, alright, I get itits tough.»
«Tough? Its *unfair.* Why am I running a B&B for free?»
«Its not forever!»
«Its been a week. No progress. Sarah said decent places wont come up for *months.*»
«So a month or twobig deal.»
«For you! You swan off to work while Im stuck here»
«Stuck? Youre at home all day!»
«Thats *it.*» Emily went pale. «I *work* from home. Or I *would*, if I wasnt feeding, cleaning, and babysitting!»
Daniel backtracked.
«Okay, okay. Ill talk to Sarah properly. Well make a plan.»
«And Mark.»
«And Mark.»
But the «talk» was all vague promises. No real change.
That night, the final straw landed.
Emily was cooking when Daniel walked in.
«Oh, forgot to mention. The kids start at the local school and nursery tomorrow. So breakfastll need to be earlier.»
«Fine.»
«And packed lunches.»
«Uh-huh.»
«Sarah says theyre out of clean clothes. Maybe do a wash?»
«Maybe *she* can?»
«She doesnt know how the machine works.»
«Shell learn.»
Daniel hesitated, then dropped the bomb:
«Also… with more of us, youll need to cook bigger portions.»
Emily turned slowly.
«Excuse me?»
«Well, theyll be eating here all the time now…»
«And?»
«Youll be cooking for my sisters family too,» Daniel said, in *that* toneand instantly knew hed messed up.
Emily set down the knife. Her voice went dangerously quiet.
«Say that again.»
«Say what?»
«What you just said. About me cooking.»
Daniel gulped. Too late now.
«I mean… youll be cooking more, since theres more of us…»
«Right. *Ill* be cooking.»
She unhooked her apron and walked out.
«Em, wherere you going?» Daniel called after her.
«Bed.»
«What about dinner?»
«You said Ill cook. So I will. When I feel like it.»
She locked the bedroom door, hands shaking. In two weeks, shed gone from wife to unpaid servant. And her husband saw nothing wrong with that.
She yanked a suitcase from the wardrobe and started packing Daniels things. Shirts, jeans, socksall folded neatly, like always.
Ten minutes later, she hauled it into the living room, where the family sat glued to the telly.
«Sorry to interrupt,» she said, plonking the suitcase in the middle of the floor. «Change of plans.»
Everyone stared.
«Packed enough for Daniel for a while. Youre all moving to your mums. Big house, plenty of space.»
«Em, what?» Sarah spluttered.
«Easier this way. Kidsll have room to play. No ones tripping over suitcases.»
«But were settled here!» Mark protested.
«*You* are. *Im* not. Two weeks of being your maid was enough.»
«Maid?» Mark looked baffled.
«Cook, cleaner, laundrette, babysitterall rolled into one.»
Silence.
«Em,» Sarah said carefully, «if you think weve taken advantage»
«I *know* you have. Two weeks, and Ive done *everything.* And today, I got *ordered* to keep doing it.»
All eyes turned to Daniel.
«Em, I didnt mean it like that»
«Sounded like an order. ‘*Youll cook for my sisters family.* No discussion.»
Daniel shut up.
«Exactly,» Emily said. «So off you pop to your mums. When youve figured out how to share the load fairly, well talk.»
«Em, this is mad» Daniel tried.
«Whats mad? Me refusing to be treated like staff?»
«Nobody thinks that!»
«Prove it. Who cooked last here?»
Silence.
«Who washed up last night?»
Silence.
«Who did the kids laundry?»
«Okay, well»
«You *could*. But you dont. Because I do. For *all* of you.»
She grabbed the car keys.
«Pack up. Ill drive you.»
«Em, dont be dramatic,» Sarah pleaded. «Lets just talk»
«We *have* talked. Multiple times. This is the result.»
«Well make a rota,» Mark said quickly.
«Great. Do that. At your mums. More space to think.»
«Mum, whats happening?» Oliver asked.
«Nothing scary, love. Were visiting Nana.»
«For *ever*?»
«Just a bit.»
An hour later, they were in the car. Silent.
At Daniels mumsa spry woman in her seventiesthey piled out.
«To what do I owe the pleasure?» she asked, eyebrow raised.
«Just visiting, Mum,» Daniel said weakly.
«All of you? For long?»
«A little while,» Emily said. «They need to figure out how to run a household fairly.»
Daniels mum looked from Emily to her son, then nodded.
«Right. Come in, then.»
Emily helped unload, then turned to leave.
«Em,» Daniel caught her arm. «This is daft. Lets go home and sort it.»
«Nothing to sort. You wanted a live-in chef? Fine. But on *my* terms. Meanwhile, *think*.»
«What terms?»
«Equal chores. Cooking, cleaning, kidssplit fairly. Proper rota, signed by all.»
«But»
«No buts. Either everyone pitches in, or you live separately.»
The next morning, Emily slept till eight. No shrieking. Coffee in peace. Work uninterrupted.
That evening, Daniel called.
«Em, weve talked…»
«And?»
«You were right. We took the mick.»
«Go on.»
«Mum gave us a proper bollocking. Said we were acting like spoilt brats.»
«Smart woman.»
«We made a rota. Want to hear it?»
«Bring it home. Signed by everyone.»
«Can we come tomorrow?»
«With the rota. And no loopholes.»
They returned the next day, sheepish.
«Em, were sorry,» Sarah said. «We were awful.»
«Didnt realise how much we dumped on you,» Mark admitted.
Daniel handed over a sheet of paper.
«Here.»
Emily scanned it. Breakfasts rotated. Dinners too. Whoever cooked, cleaned. Cleaning duties split. Kids supervised by their *parents*.
«Looks fair,» she said. «But papers easy.»
«Well stick to it,» Sarah vowed.
«Absolutely,» Mark echoed.
«Well see,» Emily said.
And they did. The first days went smoothlySarah cooked breakfast, Mark washed up, Daniel hoovered. The kids stopped treating Emily like a 24/7 concierge.
Of course, there were slip-ups. Sarah «forgot» her cooking day once. Mark «missed» the dishes. Daniel tried to fob off cleaning.
But now, Emily called it out.
«Sarah, your turn for breakfast.»
«Oh! My projects duemaybe you could»
«Nope. Kids up in thirty. Porridge takes ten.»
«Mark, last nights dishes?»
«Ah, yeah. Got in late»
«Not my problem.»
«Daniel, hooverings yours today.»
«Em, Im knackered»
«We all are. Do your bit.»
Slowly, it stuck. Even the kids helpedtoys put away, plates cleared.
A month later, Sarah and Mark found a new place.
«Honestly?» Sarah confessed before leaving. «Im glad this happened.»
«Why?»
«At home, chores were a mess. Mark just worked, I did the kids, cleaning piled up. Now weve got a system. Kids pitch in too.»
«Good,» Emily said.
«Thanks. For not letting us walk all over you.»
On moving day, they toasted in the kitchen.
«Em,» Daniel said. «About that night… saying youd cook? I was a prat.»
«Water under the bridge,» Emily said.
«Nah. I was being a dictator. Wont happen again.»
«Good.»
«Actually… maybe we should make a rota for us too? Split things properly?»
Emily smiled.
«Now youre talking.»
When the flat was quiet again, Daniel asked,
«Regret being so hard on us?»
«Not a bit,» Emily said. «If I hadnt, nothing wouldve changed. Youd still be ordering, theyd still be taking, Id still be miserable.»
«Fair.»
«Families arent armies, Daniel. No orders. Just teamwork.»
«I get that now.»
«And if you ever forget?» Emily said lightly. «Remember the suitcase.»
Six months later, at Sarahs birthday, she grinned.
«Guess what? The kids tidy their own rooms now. *Themselves.* Marks learned to make a roast. And Ive tamed the hoover.»
«Brilliant,» Emily laughed.
«All thanks to you. If you hadnt kicked our butts…»
«Kicked? I *suggested* you rethink.»
«With a suitcase,» Daniel muttered.
«Worked, didnt it?» Sarah said. «Our place runs like clockwork now.»
«No,» Emily corrected. «Your familys *fair* now. Thats the key.»
And it was. From then on, no one gave orders. Decisions were shared. Chores split evenly. And «*youll cook*» was never said like a command again.
Because everyone remembered the day Emily packed that suitcase and proved one thing: in a family, you dont *order*you *agree.*
And Daniel? He *definitely* regretted that tone. And he never forgot the lesson: real families dont have bosses. They have *partners. And Daniel? He never forgot the lesson: real families dont have bosses. They have partners.
