The niece turned up at my flat, cheeks flushed, only to be hurt when I didnt set a plate for her.
I share a house with my sister, but in different towns. Susans daughter has her heart set on a place at the university in my cityManchester. Shell be moving into halls later, but for now shes stayed a couple of weeks to sort out exams or perhaps just hand in paperwork. I never got the details; I only know that a preuniversity visit is normal. Susan arranged for Poppy to crash with me.
Who should foot the bill?
We never talked about meals. If her mother stays silent on the subject, they sort it out between themselves. I walk into the living room and find Poppy fuming, arms crossed. Whats wrong? I ask. She snaps, I thought youd at least give me a warm lunch. I fire back, Im not going to feed you, and Im living on my own schedule. I have to leave in a flash! Call your mum and have her transfer some money onto your card. Go buy some biscuits, a scone, and a cuppa. And get tea, toomy supplys run out! Youre eighteen now, not a child!
Her mum, Helen, hasnt spoken to me in ages; she doesnt know that once the kids fled the nest, my husband vanished, and I threw myself into work. My job runs on a relentless timetable, so Im home only sporadically, and the energy for domestic chores has simply abandoned me. A proper nights sleep is a luxury I cant afford.
Im not about to sacrifice anything for a guest.
Seeing Poppy is, of course, a pleasure. Shes grown, more ladylike, but Im no longer the sprightly Aunt Lydia who could whip up a feast in a heartbeat, never mind an elephant. Let her shop, chop, boil, fry, and steam herself. Better yet, let her buy something readymade so she doesnt scorch the stove or the flat.
Shes turned sour, simmering in silence each day, apparently expecting a full board with mums blessing. Maybe things will settle. Its hard to drop the role of the everready, easygoing aunt after years of keeping the peace with everyone close to me. Even now Im still amiable: Ive offered a free bed, albeit missing the nourishment element. Ive seen a therapist for advice on how to gently, lovingly explain to my family that Im not as functional as I once was. Theyll have to expect less from me.
