Nothing had changed.
I slipped into the flat with a buoyant step, a cardboard box cradling a cake bought especially for Mum and Nigel.
From deep within the walls faint music floated, under it muffled chatter.
My name, whispered by my stepdad, made me freeze in the hallway.
How much longer must I endure your Elsie? Nigels voice crackled with irritation. Shes a stone lodged in my throat.
I held my breath, pressed flat against the wall. My heart thumped so loudly I imagined they could hear it.
Dont make a fuss. Let her fund my jubilee, then she can go rot. In the meantime keep your tongue as quiet as a mouse beneath the grass.
The words stole the air from my lungs. My fingers clenched the cardboard so hard the box nearly turned to a wafer.
So thats it what they wanted from me, a thought flickered through my mind.
I shuffled toward the door, trying to remain unseen. As soon as it shut behind me I rolled down the staircase like a stumbling marble.
Outside the sun shone just as bright, but the world had suddenly drained of colour.
I sank slowly onto a bench in the park opposite the terraced house. The cake box rested on my knees; I stared at it in a futile attempt to grasp what had happened.
Five years of silence
Five long years I had not crossed the threshold of my parents house. I had not heard Mums voice, not seen her face.
And now a phone call, an invitation to a jubilee.
Nigel had entered our lives when I was fifteen. Small, with a sly squint and a perpetual grin.
Elsie! he shouted, winking at Mum. Our slim little thing, bone and skin, I swear shell be blown away by the first wind!
Mum burst into laughter at his jokes, gazing at him as if he were reciting the greatest truths of humanity.
Nigel, youre a proper lark! she clapped. What a joker!
I sat, eyes down on my plate, trying to become invisible.
Mum, hes overdoing it, I finally could not bear.
Oh, youre such a child, she waved aside. Its just jokes.
Each day Mum drifted farther from me, an invisible wall rising between us. I clung to memories of Dad, who always protected me, who believed in me. He had been gone for two years, yet he had arranged a bank account that received a monthly stipend for my education. My dream was to finish school, head to Manchester, and enter universityto start a new life without Nigel and his jokes that turned my world upside down.
I believed. I waited.
The graduation
After the farewell party I felt as if I were soaring on wings. School behind me, a fresh life ahead.
When I opened the flats door, I stared, stunned. Ten strangers sat around a festive table.
The air smelled of roasted meat and something cloyingly sweet. Glasses chimed, laughter boomed.
Nigel, perched at the head of the table with Mum beside him, spotted me first.
Ah, our graduate finally graces us! he boomed. Come, beauty, lets celebrate a double occasionyour school finish and my new boat!
I shuffled to the table, bewildered. Someone slid over, making space.
Ladies and gents, Nigel gestured, meet Elsie, my stepdaughter. Ive poured my heart into her, raised her as my own!
His friends nodded, while I froze, fork trembling in my hand.
Images flashed: him forcing me to wash his car in the cold, mocking my grades, insisting Id end up hawking at the market after school.
Elsie, our little sprout, Nigel continued, schools done. Ready to work, dear?
I stayed silent, poking at my salad.
Come off it, Nigel, a guest laughed. Let the girl study.
What study? Nigel squinted. Works what matters now. Ive already struck a deal with Mr. Hargreavesshell be a shop assistant in his store. Standing behind a counter isnt exactly Newtons theorem.
The table erupted in guffaws, and I felt a boil rising inside me.
Betrayal
When Mum slipped away to the kitchen, I followed.
Mum, I need to talk, I whispered.
She looked a little tipsy, eyes glittering, movements exaggerated.
What is it? she said, clumsily stacking plates.
I plan to go to university in Manchester, my voice trembled. I need the money from my account.
Mum froze, then turned slowly.
What money? she frowned.
The one Dad saved for my education, I repeated.
Oh, that, she waved a hand as if brushing away dust. Theres none left.
The world tilted beneath my feet.
How can there be none? I whispered. There was
Theres none, she cut in. Nigel needed a boat, and the feast was extravagant.
I stared at her, not recognizing the mother who used to read bedtime stories.
You spent my money? I could not believe my ears.
Well, technically it was in my name, Mum shrugged. Nigel does so much for us. He deserves a boat and a holiday.
At that moment the man of the celebration burst into the kitchen.
Elsie! he shouted. Ive struck a deal with Mr. Hargreaves. From Monday youll be the cashier! He laughed loudly, proud of himself.
I turned and slipped out of the kitchen, heading to my room. My trembling hands yanked open dresser drawers, rifling through boxes.
Where were Dads gifts? Gold earrings, a chain with a pendant, Grandmas ring
I found them at the bottom of an old shoe box, untouched.
Nigel never arrived. For now, Manchester would have enough.
I sat on the bed, looking at Dads photograph on the nightstand.
Ill manage, Dad, I whispered. I promise.
The unexpected call
Five years sped by like a single day. Manchester welcomed me with rain, fog, and the warm camaraderie of new friends. University, a nightshift at a café, a flat with a roommate named Lucy.
Life settled, and I tried not to dwell on the past.
My phone rang early on a Tuesday. An unknown number.
Usually I ignore such calls, but something made me press the green button.
Hello?
Elsie! Darling! How wonderful to hear you! a voice cooed. Are you there, love? Can you hear me?
Yes, I replied briefly. I hear you.
How are you? Hows life? her tone was oddly tender. Ive missed you a lot!
Five years I havent thought of it, and now you pop up, a thought raced through my mind.
Everythings fine, I answered dryly. Studying, working.
Oh, brilliant, dear! she gushed. Im planning a jubilee soon. Ill hit fiftycan you imagine?
Id love you to come, she said.
I almost laughed at the surprise.
Seriously? After everything?
Oh, stop dredging up the old, she snapped, irritation slipping in. Its a new thing. Everyone makes mistakes.
Im sorry, I really want us to be a family again, I said, eyes closing. Nigels smug grin flashed behind my eyelids.
Is Nigel coming too? I asked.
Of course! Hes been asking about you nonstop, she answered too quickly. He worries.
Alright, I said, surprising myself. Ill come.
Really? she exclaimed, genuine wonder in her voice. When should I expect you?
In a week, I think.
After the call I stared at the window, wondering why Id agreed, what I hoped to find. Part of me wanted to see Mum again. Maybe shed truly have changed.
A week later I stood on the doorstep of the family flat. Mum swung the door open and threw her arms around me.
Darling! Look how youve grown! Youre a beauty! she babbled.
We sat in the kitchen, sipping tea, Mum chatting about neighbours, acquaintances. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added:
Elsie, Ive realised my jubilee is near and Im flat broke, she said, eyes dropping.
I want a proper celebration, not the cheap kind, she muttered, but Nigel you know hes not exactly generous.
I took her hand, met her gaze.
Dont worry, Mum. Ill cover it.
The net tightens
After a long sit on a park bench, mulling everything over, I straightened my back and walked back into the house with resolve.
Theyll get what they deserve, I promised myself.
I slammed the flats door, loud enough to make them hear.
A moment later my mother emerged, a strained smile painted on her face.
Elsie! I was wondering where youd vanished to! she sang. Come in, lets have tea.
I smiled back, handing her the cake box.
Here, a little treat, I said, voice unusually bright. And Mum, I have a brilliant idea!
What is it? her eyes lit up.
Ive booked a swanky restaurant out of town for your jubileeimagine a fountain, live music! I declared. I even ordered a coach to ferry all the guests!
Mum clapped her hands like a child.
My dear, youre my golden girl! she cried, hugging me. And Nigel will love it too!
Yes, I think hell be thrilled, I replied.
We settled at the kitchen table while Mum listed the invitees. I listened halfheartedly, then casually added:
By the way, my friend Svets grandmother has nowhere to stay. Im thinking of selling my halfshare of the flat to her.
Mums smile vanished, eyes narrowing.
Whats that about? she asked coldly.
Dont worry! I waved it off. You dont want to buy it yourself? Shes quiet, never leaves the room, wont bother anyone. Ill give you half the proceeds for living expenses.
Mums face shifted instantly.
If thats so how much are we talking?
I named a sum that made her eyes widen.
That much?! she gasped. Fine then, let her move in.
I pulled out a scrap of paper, scribbled hurriedly.
Sign the notice of sale, I said, barely caring about the phrasing.
Mum snatched the pen, signed without reading.
Great, I smiled. Now lets pick a dress for your jubilee.
The reckoning
The jubilee day dawned warm and sunny. A large coach parked outside our house, guests in festive attire streaming in.
Nigel strutted through the crowd, gesticulating wildly, shouting something about his new boat.
Spotting me, his grin widened.
Ah, our benefactor arrives! he cried. Elsie always knows how to reward us for a happy childhood!
Someone laughed; I offered a polite smile.
Everyone ready? I asked Mum.
Yes, dear, she replied, eyes sparkling. Arent you coming with us?
Ill take a taxi later, I said. Got a few things to settle first.
Oh, how caring of you!
The guests boarded the coach. I had arranged payment with the driver: fifty percent up front, the rest on return.
When the coach vanished around the corner, I grabbed my phone.
Hello, Victor? Its Elsie. Could we view the flat today? As soon as possible, if youre free.
I imagined the crowd, led by Mum and Nigel, arriving at the countryside restaurant, only to find no one waiting for them. Their phones would ring unanswered, and theyd have to chip in for the ride back.
Half an hour later a broadshouldered man in a work coat pulled upmy buyer, Victor Harrington, a weightlifter with a friendly grin and a gaze that missed nothing.
Everything as agreed, he said. Ill move in today.
Excellent, I replied. Im sure youll get along with the neighbours quickly.
After he left, I walked through the flat Id grown up in, memoriesgood and badswirling. Dads photograph still sat on the shelf in my room; I slipped it into my bag.
Leaving, I pictured Nigels face when he learned about the new neighbour, and Mums reaction when she realised no one would be waiting at the restaurant, that shed never see the money from my share.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
When I shut the flats doorone I would never enter againa gentle warmth settled in my chest.
