My niece Harriet has turned up at my flat, but shes sulking because I havent offered her food.
Emma, my sister, lives in Birmingham while Im based in Manchester. Her daughter has her sights set on the university here, so shell be moving into halls of residence later this year. For now shes stayed for a couple of weeks to sort out a few things either some lastminute exams or just to hand in paperwork in person. I havent bothered with the details; I just know that its normal to pop over before starting university. Emma has arranged for Harriet to crash on my couch.
We never talked about who should put food on the table. If her mum stays quiet about it, they sort it out between themselves. I walk in and find Harriet lounging in the lounge, looking annoyed. I ask whats up. She tells me she thought Id serve her a proper lunch. I snap back, Im not going to foot your meals, Ive got my own schedule. Ive got to dash, so call your mum and have her transfer some cash to your bank account, then you can buy some biscuits, a scone or whatever, and have tea. By the way, buy tea too Im out! Youre eighteen, arent you?
Carol, Harriets mum, hasnt spoken to me in ages, so she doesnt know that when my kids left the nest, my husband vanished and I threw myself into work. My job has a brutal rota, so Im rarely home and Ive lost the energy for any domestic chores. All I want is a proper nights sleep, and thats already a luxury.
Im not about to sacrifice anything for a guest. Its lovely to see Harriet shes grown up, looks more feminine but Im no longer the freewheeling Aunt Lucy who could whip up a feast in an instant. Let her shop for herself, chop, boil, fry or steam whatever she wants. Better yet, let her buy something readymade so she doesnt ruin the stove or the flat.
Now shes fuming, simmering in silence each day, apparently expecting a full board with mums help. Maybe things will settle down. Its hard to go from being the easy, accommodating aunt Ive been for years to this new, more distant version. Ive always kept the peace with everyone around me, and even now Im trying: Ive offered a free bed, albeit without the usual extra comforts. Ive booked a session with a therapist to learn how to explain gently that I cant be as functional as I used to be. She needs to expect a little less from me.
