Hell be living with us
A sharp knock at the door announced the arrival of someone unknown. Lucy slipped off her kitchen apron, wiped her hands on a tea towel, and went to answer. On the doorstep stood her daughter, Emma, with a young man on her arm. Lucy let them in.
Hi, Mum, Emma planted a quick kiss on her cheek. This is Jack; hell be staying with us.
Hello, the lad said politely.
And this is my aunt, Aunt Lucy, Emma added.
Lucy Thompson, the woman corrected her daughter.
Mum, whats for dinner? Emma asked.
Pea purée and sausages, Lucy replied.
I dont eat pea purée, Jack said, shrugging as he headed toward the hallway.
Mom, Jack doesnt like peas, Emma exclaimed, eyes wide.
Jack dropped his backpack on the sofa and sat down. This is actually my room, Lucy said, gesturing toward the opposite wall.
Jack, come, Ill show you where youll be sleeping, Emma called.
Im fine here, Jack growled, getting up from the sofa.
Darling, think of something to feed Jack, Lucy said.
Im not sure. Weve only got half a packet of sausages left, Lucy shrugged.
Thatll dojust add a dollop of mustard, a squirt of ketchup, and a slice of bread, Jack replied.
Alright then, Lucy muttered as she made her way to the kitchen. She remembered how, years ago, she used to bring home stray kittens and puppies, and now it was a soninlaw she was feeding.
She ladled a serving of mushy peas onto a plate, laid two fried sausages beside them, pushed a small bowl of salad forward, and sat down to eat with gusto.
Mum, why are you eating alone? Emma asked as she entered the kitchen.
Ive just come home from work and Im hungry, Lucy answered, chewing a sausage. Anyone who wants food can serve themselves. And I have a question for you. Why is Jack going to live with us?
Because, Mum, hes my husband.
Lucys fork clattered in her mouth.
My husband? she sputtered.
Yes, exactly. Emma is an adult now and can decide whether to marry or not. Im nineteen years old, you know.
You didnt even invite me to a wedding, Emma snapped.
There was no wedding; we just signed the papers. Since were now husband and wife, well be living together, Lucy said, glancing at her chewing daughter.
Congratulations, then. Why no ceremony?
If you have money for a wedding, you could give it to us; well find a way to spend it.
Got it, Lucy said, still munching. So why here?
Because they have a onebedroom flat and four of us would be cramped in it.
Did you consider renting?
Theres no need to rent when my room is free, Emma replied, surprised.
Understood.
Will you give us any food? Jack asked.
The pot of mushy peas is on the stove, the sausages are in the pan. If thats not enough, theres half a packet left in the fridge. Help yourselves, Lucy said.
Mum, youve got yourself a soninlaw now, Emma said, emphasizing the last word.
And what? I have to start dancing around for this? Lucy retorted, tired from work. If you need a dance, go do it yourself. You have hands and feet; look after yourselves.
Exactly why youre still single! Emma shot back, slamming the bedroom door.
Lucy finished her dinner, washed the dishes, cleared the table, and retreated to her own room. She changed into gym clothes, grabbed her bag, and headed to the local leisure centre. Shed always been independent, spending a few evenings each week at the pool and the gym.
By ten oclock she was back home, hoping for a soothing cup of tea. Instead she found the kitchen in disarray, as though someone had attempted to cook and failed miserably. The lid of the pot was missing, the mushy peas had dried and cracked, an empty sausage packet lay on the counter alongside stale, unwrapped bread. The frying pan was scorched, its nonstick coating scraped with a fork. The sink was piled with dishes, and a sticky sweet puddle stained the floor. The flat reeked of cigarettes.
Well, thats a new one, Lucy muttered. Emma never let this happen.
She opened the bedroom door. Two young people were lounging, a bottle of wine halfempty, cigarettes dangling from their lips.
Emma, tidy up the kitchen. Buy a new pan tomorrow, Lucy said, heading back to her room without closing the door.
Emma leapt up and chased after her.
Why should we clean? And where am I supposed to get money for a new pan? Im a student, not working. Do you even care about the dishes?
The house rule is simple: eat, then clean; make a mess, then clean; break something, then replace it. Everyone looks after their own mess. That pan isnt cheap, and now its ruined, Lucy replied calmly.
You dont want us to stay here, Emma accused.
No, Lucy answered evenly.
She didnt feel like arguing with her daughter; she had never seen Emma act like this before.
But this is my share too, Emma insisted.
No. The whole flat is mine. I bought it, paid for it, and Im the only one on the lease. Youre just on the register. Dont expect me to cover your problems. If you want to live here, follow the rules, Lucy said, her voice steady.
Ive lived by your rules all my life. Now Im married, and you cant tell me what to do, Emma shrieked. Besides, youre old enough to hand over the flat to us.
Ill give you the hallway outside and a bench in the garden. Youve married? I wasnt asked. Youll sleep here alone or with your husband elsewhere. He wont be living here, Lucy replied harshly.
Fine, keep your flat. Jack, were moving out, Emma shouted, beginning to pack.
Five minutes later, Jack burst into Lucys room, swaying slightly from the wine.
Alright, mum, dont shout and everything will be fine, he slurred. Emma and I arent going anywhere tonight. If you behave, well even be quiet in the night.
What makes you think Im your mother? Lucy snapped. Your parents are still at home. Take your new wife and get out.
Jack raised his fist, aiming it at her cheek.
Lucy clutched his wrist with manicured fingers, squeezing hard.
Let go, you madwoman, he snarled.
Mom, what are you doing? Emma screamed, trying to pull her mother away.
Lucy shoved Emma aside and kicked Jack in the groin, then elbowed him in the neck.
Ill report this assault, Jack cried, Ill take you to court.
Ill call the police now so they can record everything, Lucy said.
The couple fled the tidy twobedroom flat.
Youre no longer my mother, Emma shouted as she left, and youll never see my grandchildren.
What a tragedy, Lucy said dryly, Ill finally have some peace.
She glanced at her hands; a few nails were broken. Just losses from you lot, she muttered.
After they were gone, Lucy scrubbed the kitchen, tossed the ruined mushy peas and the battered pan, and changed the locks. Three months later, near her work, Emma appeared, looking gaunt, cheeks hollow, clearly unhappy.
Mum, whats for dinner? she asked.
Im not sure yet, Lucy shrugged. What do you want?
Chicken and rice, Emma whispered, eyes lingering on the thought of a salad. And a bit of chicken salad.
Then well get the chicken, Lucy said. Youll have to make the salad yourself.
Emma asked nothing else, and Jack never returned to their lives.
