Nothings changed. I stepped into the flat feeling oddly buoyant, a cardboard box cradling a birthday cake Id bought especially for Mum and Basil.
From somewhere deep inside the apartment faint music drifted, accompanied by muffled chatter.
My name, called out by my stepdad, made me freeze in the hallway.
How much longer do I have to put up with your Poppy? Basils voice was edged with irritation. Shes a real pain in the neck.
I held my breath, pressed my back flat against the wall. My heart pounded so loudly I could have sworn theyd hear it.
Dont get your knickers in a twist, Basil snorted. Shell foot the bill for the anniversary, then hit the road. In the meantime, behave like a mouse, quieter than a mouse in a field.
His words stole the breath from my lungs. My fingers clenched so hard the cardboard box nearly flattened into a pancake.
So thats how it is I thought. Exactly what they wanted from me.
I tiptoed toward the exit, trying to stay unseen. The moment the door shut behind me I tumbled down the stairs like a sack of spuds.
Outside the sun shone just as bright, but the world suddenly went mute of colour. I slumped onto a bench in the park opposite the houses, the cake box resting on my knees, and stared at it, trying to make sense of everything.
Five years of silence
Five long years I hadnt crossed the threshold of my parents house. I hadnt heard Mums voice, hadnt seen her face.
And now a phone call and an invitation to an anniversary.
Basil had wormed his way into our lives when I was fifteen, a skinny lad with a mischievous squint and a permanent grin.
Poppy! hed shout, winking at Mum. Our slim beauty, bonethin, I swear. The first wind will sweep her away!
Mum would burst into giggles at his jokes, watching him with the reverence one reserves for a philosopher.
Basil, youre something else! shed clap her hands. What a joker!
Id sit, eyes glued to my plate, trying to become invisible.
Mum, hes going too far, I finally blurted one day.
Oh, give it a rest, love, she waved me off. Just jokes, dear.
Day by day Mum drifted further from me, as if an invisible wall had risen between us. I clung to memories of Dad, who always had my back, who believed in me.
Dad had been gone two years now, but hed looked after my future. Hed set up an account that each month received a tidy sum for my education. My dream was to finish school, head up to Manchester, and get into university a fresh start without Basil and his jokes that turned my world topsyturvy.
I believed. I waited.
The leavers dinner
After the leavers night I felt like Id sprouted wings. School behind me, a brandnew life ahead.
When I opened the flats door, I was taken aback. Ten strangers sat around the festive table.
The air smelled of roast and something overly sweet. Glasses clinked, laughter roared.
Basil, perched at the head of the table with Mum beside him, spotted me first.
Ah, our graduate has finally graced us! he bellowed. Come over, lovely! Lets doublecelebrate your school finish and my brandnew boat!
I shuffled to the table, a seat being cleared for me.
Ladies and gents, Basil gestured grandly. Meet Poppy, my stepdaughter. Ive poured my heart into her, raised her like my own!
His mates nodded in mock solemnity, and I froze, fork in hand.
Images flashed through my mind: him making me wash his car in the dead of winter, mocking my grades, insisting Id end up selling fruit at the market after school.
Poppys a bit of a headcase, Basil continued. Shes just finished school. Time to get a job, right, love?
I stayed silent, poking at the salad.
Come off it, Basil, a guest laughed. Let the girl have a chance.
Whats she studying for? Basil narrowed his eyes. Works more important now. Ive already struck a deal with Mr. McAllister hell take her on as a shopassistant. Standing behind the counter isnt exactly Newtons law of motion.
The table erupted in laughter, and I felt my insides boiling.
Betrayal
When Mum slipped away to the kitchen, I followed.
Mum, I need to talk, I whispered.
She looked a touch tipsy, eyes glittering, movements a little loose.
Whats up? she asked, awkwardly stacking plates.
Im applying 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 set aside for my education, I repeated.
Oh, that, she waved a hand as if dismissing a trivial matter. Theres none left.
The ground shifted beneath me.
How can there be none? There was?
Its gone, she cut in. Basil needed to buy a boat. And look at the feast weve thrown.
I stared at her, unrecognisable. Where was the caring mum who used to read me bedtime stories?
You spent my money? I couldnt believe my ears.
Technically it was in my account, Mum shrugged. And Basil does so much for us. He deserves a boat and a holiday.
Just then the culprit of the celebration burst into the kitchen.
Poppy! he shouted. Ive sorted it with Mr. McAllister. From Monday youll be his cashier! He laughed boisterously.
I turned and slipped out of the kitchen, headed to my room. My hands shook as I rummaged through drawers and boxes.
Where were Dads gifts? Gold earrings, a chain with a pendant, Grandmas ring
Found them, hidden at the bottom of an old shoe box, untouched.
Stepdad never got them. Enough for a start in Manchester.
I sat on the bed, staring at Dads photograph on the nightstand.
Ill manage, Dad, I whispered. I promise.
An unexpected call
Five years flew by like a single day. Manchester greeted me with rain, fog, and the warmth of new friends. University, a night job in a café, a dorm room with flatmate Lucy.
Life settled and I tried not to dwell on the past.
My phone rang early Tuesday morning. An unknown number.
Usually I ignore such calls, but something made me press the green button.
Hello?
Poppy! Sweetheart! Its so lovely to hear you!
I stayed silent, gathering my thoughts.
You there? she asked. Poppy, can you hear me?
Yes, I replied shortly. I hear you.
How are you? Hows life? Her voice was oddly affectionate. I miss you more than you can imagine!
Five years of not thinking about this, and suddenly Im missed, I thought.
Everythings fine, I said dryly. Studying, working.
Oh, brilliant, dear! she cooed. Im gearing up for my anniversary. Turning fifty, can you believe it?
Id love for you to come.
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
Really? After everything?
Oh, stop fussing about the past, she replied, a hint of irritation slipping through. Everyone makes mistakes.
Im sorry, I really want us to be a family again!
I closed my eyes, and Basils smug grin flashed in my mind.
What about Basil? I asked. Does he want to see me too?
Of course! she blurted. He asks about you all the time. Hes worried.
Alright, I said, surprised at my own agreement. Ill come.
Really? she sounded genuinely surprised. Oh, Im thrilled! When should I expect you?
In a week, I think.
After hanging up, I stared out the window, wondering why Id agreed. What was I hoping to find? Part of me wanted to see Mum again. Maybe shed really have changed.
A week later I stood on the doorstep of my parents flat. Mum flung the door open and threw her arms around me.
Darling! Look at you! Youve grown into such a beauty! she babbled.
We sat in the kitchen, sipping tea, and Mum chatted about neighbours, friends, and the like.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she added:
Poppy, Ive been thinking my anniversary is coming up, and Im broke, she said, eyes dropping guiltily.
She wanted a proper celebration, not the shabby ones the family usually managed. Basil, as you know, isnt exactly generous.
I took her hand, met her gaze.
Dont worry, Mum. Ive got it covered.
After a while on a park bench, I straightened up, resolved.
Theyll get what they deserve, I promised myself.
Back inside, I slammed the door shut for effect.
A moment later Mum popped out, smile stretched wide.
Poppy! I was wondering where you vanished to! Come in, tea?
I returned the smile, handing her the cake box.
Thought Id treat you, I said brighter than usual. And Mum, Ive got a brilliant idea!
Whats that? her eyes lit up.
Ive booked a swanky restaurant out of town for your anniversary think fountains, live music!
I even arranged a coach to ferry all the guests.
Mum clapped her hands like a schoolgirl.
Goodness, Poppy, youre my golden child! Basil will be over the moon!
Well see about that, I muttered.
We lingered in the kitchen while Mum listed the invitees. Halflistening, I slipped in:
By the way, my friend Svets granny has nowhere to stay. Im thinking of selling my share of the flat to her.
Mums smile vanished, eyes narrowing.
Whats that about? she asked coldly.
Dont worry! I waved it off. She barely leaves her room anyway. Ill give you half the proceeds for living expenses.
Mums face twisted.
How much are we talking?
I named a sum that made her eyes bulge.
That much? Well then, let her move in.
I fished a piece of paper from my bag and scribbled.
Sign the transfer, I said, as casually as a grocery list.
Mum snatched the pen and, without a glance, signed.
Great, now lets pick your dress for the big day, I chimed.
The anniversary
The day was sunny and warm. A big tourist coach was already parked outside, guests in festive attire spilling out.
Basil, in full parade mode, strutted among them, gesturing wildly.
Spotting me, he beamed.
Ah, our benefactor has arrived! he shouted. Poppy always knows how to thank us for a happy childhood!
Someone laughed; I offered a polite smile.
Everyone ready? I asked Mum.
Yes, love, she replied. Arent you coming with us?
Ill catch a taxi later, I said. Need to sort a few things first.
Oh, youre such a darling!
The guests piled into the coach. Id arranged a fiftypercent upfront payment with the driver, the rest on return.
When the coach disappeared around the corner, I pulled out my phone.
Hello, Victor? Its Poppy. Could we view the flat today? Right now, if possible?
I imagined the crowd, led by Mum and Basil, arriving at the countryside restaurant that no one had actually booked, their phones dead, having to foot the bill for the return journey.
Half an hour later a broadshouldered man in a tracksuit my buyer Victor Stead, a weightlifting enthusiast pulled up.
Everything as agreed, he said. Im moving in today.
Brilliant, I smiled. I think youll get along with the neighbours just fine.
After he left, I walked once more through the flat where Id grown up. Memories, both sweet and sour, swirled around. Dads photograph still sat on my shelf; I slipped it into my bag.
As I closed the front door, I pictured Basils face when he learned about the new neighbour, and Mums realization that the restaurant would be empty and the money from my share would never reach her.
They say revenge is a dish best served cold.
But as I shut the door on the house Id never return to, a warm feeling settled in my chest.
