Emily, has Tom already told you? the motherinlaw began. Listen, therell be about twenty guests, so well start the preparations in the evening. Ill be there early, around six.
What? In the evening? Emily asked, skeptical. I never agreed to that.
Hold on, Im not finished. Ive already sent Tom a shopping list; he promised to buy everything.
Tom had always been the one to look after his older sister Susan. By the time she turned thirty she had married twice and divorced twice, each breakup blamed on the wrong man. Their mother, Margaret Bennett, had reminded her son since childhood:
A sister needs help.
And Tom obliged. He lent money when Susan was temporarily out of work, repaired the flat she rented, and hauled her belongings after every split.
Then Tom married.
Catherine, his wife, endured at first. But when Susan, for the fifth time that year, asked to borrow the car for a few days because it had broken down again, Catherine said gently but firmly:
Tom, isnt it enough? We need the car this weekend too. I thought we had plans
Whats the problem? Cant you walk?
No. I cant walk to my parents cottage. Theyve picked two buckets of cucumbers for us. I thought youd heard me mention it.
Yes I heard, but you understand Susan has an emergency.
Again? What kind?
Im not sure, Tom muttered, but she needs it more.
No, Tom. This time it wont happen! Either you refuse your sister, or you buy me a car. Im tired of the bus when you could drive us where we need to go.
For the first time Tom hesitated, ready to call Susan to say no, when Margaret swooped in:
Are you going to abandon your sister for your wife? She has no one else but you.
So Tom went back to helping, despite the quarrels with his wife. One night they didnt speak for days; finally Tom could stand it no longer.
Why are you silent? Did you take offence?
What, you need three days to work that out? Emily snapped.
I just cant see what you want me to do.
Emily laughed at his confusion:
Really? You dont get it? Your little sister has taken you away for the whole weekend because she needed to get to a friends country house. I thought youd just give her a lift, and you ended up staying two days. Does any of that bother you?
Whats there to be bothered about? A couple of drinks, her exboyfriend was there, we chatted. I didnt need to stay longer, did I? That would have been crass.
You could have at least phoned.
You could have called too, Tom retorted.
I did! Your phone was switched off. Imagine that! I was on edge, wondering where my husband was. And he simply decided to take a break from me, Emily erupted.
Dont make that up, Tom waved her off, gesturing that the phone was ringing.
He stepped onto the balcony and only there answered. He knew his wife would not appreciate another chat with his sister.
Hello, brother! Susans bright voice crackled. My anniversary is in two weeks! Thirty years! You know what I mean, right?
Tom cast a careful glance at Emily, who was ladling soup.
So what do you want? he asked.
How you always understand me! Susan giggled. I want to celebrate at your place! You have a big sittingroom. Mine is cramped and the landlord would protest. A restaurant is too pricey.
Maybe we could use a café? Ill add whatever you need, Tom suggested.
Are you out of your mind? Susan snapped. Its an anniversary! You expect me to pay for a venue when you have your own flat? And youll still have to foot the bill. Im not a millionaires daughter.
Let me talk to Emily first. Its her flat too. Maybe she has her own plans.
Too late! Susan cut him off. Ive already told everyone the party will be at your house. Clear the flat for the whole day, alright? Mum will handle the cooking.
Tom sighed and covered his face with his hand, trying to think of an escape. The phone buzzed again, this time a message from his mother:
Susan asked me to draft the menu. Heres the list of dishes. We still need to buy the groceries. Tell Emily to help. She can also lend a hand in the kitchen.
At that moment Emily, unaware of Susans upcoming celebration, settled into her armchair with the television remote, ready to watch her favourite series. When Tom entered the room, eyes lowered, she understood instantly.
What now? she asked calmly, pausing the show.
Emily, listen Susan anniversary, you know. Thirty years. She wants to mark the date.
Emily looked up.
Let her celebrate then. Are we going to stop her?
Tom scratched his head.
Its not that. She wants to celebrate at our place.
What? Emily leapt from the chair. In our flat?
Yes, but just for one evening. She says a restaurant is too expensive and her own place is too cramped
And what? You agreed?
I said Id talk to you first! But Susan has already invited everyone. Mum is already planning the menu
Emily closed her eyes, breathed heavily.
Tom, are you a grown man or just a messenger for Susans wishes?
What are you starting?
Im starting, Emily said, holding up her phone with a hint of sarcasm. And no one even called me? This is my flat, not a transit point for your relatives. Susan wants to party in my home, Im supposed to help her, assist your mum, and nobody even asked me!
At that moment Emilys phone rang.
Ah, the cherry on the cake, she hissed. Your mother, she waved the handset in Toms face.
Emily, has Tom already told you? the motherinlaw blurted out again. Look, therell be up to twenty people, so well start cooking in the evening. Ill be there around six tomorrow.
What? In the evening? Emily laughed skeptically. I never signed up for that.
Hold on, Im not done. Tom already has a list of groceries, he promised to buy everything.
Fine, Emily tossed back. And the money? Where will we get it?
Tom promised to help, Margaret replied shortly.
So you expect us to turn our flat into a restaurant and foot the bill? Emily could no longer hold back.
Susan isnt a stranger! Its not hard to lend a hand for a day chop some veg, make salads, sandwiches Youre the lady of the house!
Margaret, Emily interrupted, Ive just heard about the party. I never gave permission for Susans birthday to be held in my flat.
You keep saying my flat. You and Tom are married. Everything is shared! the motherinlaw snapped.
Dont say that. If the flat were Toms, youd speak differently. Then Id just be a kept woman.
Nonsense. Thats it, conversation over. By Friday we need to buy everything, Margaret said and hung up.
What was that? Emily asked Tom, hearing the brief beeps.
Enough playing the victim! Tom finally said. Youve been told youre wrong. Admit your mistake and stop digging your heels in.
Emily was stunned. She rose, opened the wardrobe and silently pulled out a large sports bag. She then went to the bedroom, opened the chest of drawers and began methodically folding Toms shirts and jeans.
Meanwhile Tom, feeling victorious, flung open the fridge, grabbed a bottle of ale, slammed the door and plonked himself in front of the telly as if nothing had happened.
He imagined Emily would cool off and everything would return to normal. A little grumbling, then peace. He even turned the football on, convinced shed soon call him to dinner. He was wrong.
Half an hour later Emily stood in the hallway with a bag in her hand, a sports bag bulging with Toms belongings beside her. Tom stepped out of the livingroom heading for the fridge, but stopped at the sight of his wife.
What now? he muttered. What sort of drama is this?
Emily stared at him coldly:
This isnt drama, Tom. Its the end. Im done being a shadow in my own life, a servant in my own flat, a backdrop for your mothers and sisters whims. If you want to be a good son and brother, go back to your mother. Prepare the feast together. Im sure shell gladly give you a corner of her sittingroom.
Are you serious? he took a step toward her. Im not going back.
Absolutely serious, Emily nodded. I dont want you returning. Ive tolerated enough that I even question myself now. Thats enough. If you havent learned to respect me in three years, the future wont improve.
Emily you cant tear everything apart in one breath! he pleaded.
You cant demolish whats already fallen.
Tom scoffed, still not grasping that Emily had made her final decision.
And so, Emily added, all your shirts and jeans are here. Youre welcome to take them. Leave now.
He opened his mouth, but Emily turned the front door. Tom stood, his cheeks flushed with anger, lips clenched. He still hoped Emily would give in, but her calm only fed his fury.
Well, good luck! he shouted. Think youll find someone better? Youll have to look far and wide for another like me!
Emily sighed and stepped back:
Someone like you, youll indeed have to look thank God for that.
Youll regret this! Tom roared, snatching at the bag. Youll be crawling on your knees when you realise no one wants to talk to you! Without me youre nobody!
If nobody means a person who lives in their own flat, works, doesnt cater to ageing relatives and wont put up with abuse, then Im happy being no one.
Tom left, and Emily was left alone. She took a deep breath, went to the window, pulled back the curtain and watched as her former husband shoved the bag into a taxis boot.
Months passed.
The divorce was bitter. Tom tried to paint Emily as greedy and mercenary. The biggest battle was over the car bought during the marriage. He insisted hed paid for it alone; Emily argued shed driven it.
Your Honour, I paid the full amount, the registration is in my name! he declared confidently. My wife contributed not a pence!
Emily calmly opened a folder of documents, laid out bank statements, transfer receipts, copies of invoices, even the signed deposit agreement.
Im not claiming his share, but I wont give up whats mine, she said quietly.
The court sided with fairness.
Tom was displeased. He had considered the car his. Now he had to sell it and split the proceeds. He left the courtroom with a scowl twisted by rage.
At home, no support awaited him, only a barrage of accusations.
You absolute fool! Margaret shouted. You handed over everything! The car! The flat! And you didnt even hire a decent solicitor!
To top it all, Tom had taken out a loan to pay for Susans anniversary dinner in a restaurant, after pushing her into his flat. Now he occupied a modest corner in Margarets spare room.
Emily, for the first time in ages, slept peacefully. She resolved that she was still young enough to walk away from men like Tom. Decent lads were plenty around; the real trick was learning, in time, who was who.
