The dream began with a voice, firm and unyielding, cutting through the haze. Youll be cooking for my sisters family too, her husband declaredwords he would soon wish he could swallow back.
Emily stood by the window, watching an overloaded white van roll into the driveway. Her chest tightened. She knew what this meant. For days, Thomas had been pacing their London flat with a guilty look, bracing himself for *the talk*.
Em, hed started cautiously the night before, remember I told you Alice is having trouble with her lease?
Emily remembered. His sister had rented a modest two-bed in Croydon for years, living there with her husband, James, and their two kidstwelve-year-old Oliver and seven-year-old Lily. The flat was fine, the landlord decent, but there was a hitch: the landlords son was getting married, and the newlyweds needed the place. The tenants had to go.
Theyve asked to stay with us a bit, Thomas continued, avoiding her eyes. Just until they find something
Emily nodded silently. What could she say? Alice was his only sister; they were close. You dont turn family away. And the situation *was* direyou cant turf out a family with two kids.
How long? was all she asked.
Two, maybe three weeks tops, Thomas said quickly. Theyre looking hard. James even hired an estate agent.
Now, as boxes, suitcases, a childs scooter, and a cat carrier tumbled out of the van, Emily knew three weeks was a fantasy.
The kids charged in firstOliver lugging a backpack and football, Lily dragging a giant teddy bear, chattering excitedly. The adults followedAlice clutching the cat carrier, James with suitcases, Thomas balancing boxes.
Em! Alice beamed, crossing the threshold. Thank you *so* much for having us. Well be out of your hair soon
Emily hugged her sister-in-law, pitying her. Alice had always been sweet but hopelessly softmarried young, kids early, her world small. She freelanced in graphic design, but James still called the shots.
Mum, where do we sleep? Lily asked immediately, scanning the flat.
Emily and Thomass two-bed was cosy but cramped. The master bedroom was theirs, the smaller one a lounge with a sofa and armchair, the kitchen barely six square metres, the loo separate. Perfect for two; a circus for six.
Well take the sofa bed, Alice said quickly. The kids can sleep on air mattresses in the lounge?
Theres already a sofa there, Thomas pointed out. Theyll fit.
What about Mittens? Lily fretted.
Mittens stays in the hall, James decided. Plenty of space for her litter tray.
Within hours, the flat morphed into a cross between a hostel and a storage unit. The lounge became a childs domain, the hallway a luggage compartment, the bathroomtemporarilythe cats sanctuary. The air thickened with the scent of strangers, foreign food, another life.
Emily watched her space dissolve. What stung most was how effortlessly they claimed it. As if her home were communal land.
Em, wheres the loo roll? Alice asked, popping into the bathroom with a makeup bag.
Under the sink.
Can I borrow a towel? We didnt bring enough.
Of course.
By evening, it was clear: normal life had vanished. The kids played tag, Mittens yowled, the adults debated flat-hunting strategies.
Tomorrow well check that agency near Victoriatheres a brilliant bloke there, James said. Then well drive around Bromley in the afternoon.
Nothing too pricey, Alice sighed. Were on a tight budget.
Well sort it, Thomas said confidently. Worst case, you stay a bit longer.
Emily whipped her head toward him. *Longer?* Their eyes metThomas flushed and looked away.
Right, Ill start dinner, Emily said, retreating to the kitchen.
She rifled through the fridge, mentally calculating portions. She shopped for two, three at a push. Now there were six mouths to feed, including kids who ate like grown men.
Whats for tea? Oliver asked, peering in.
Dunno yet, Emily admitted.
At home, Mum makes bangers and mash, Lily chimed in.
Were out of sausages, Emily said, checking the freezer.
For six, she had a chicken, pasta, some veg, and yesterdays leftover soup. Would it stretch?
Em, dont fuss, Alice said, breezing in. Well eat anything.
Yeah, but there might not be enough.
Well hit the shops tomorrow.
Emily nodded silently, chopping the chicken. Something told her *shed* be the one stocking up.
Dinner was meagre. Chicken and pasta for six isnt the same as for two. The kids devoured it; the adults pretended they werent still hungry.
Lovely, thanks, Alice said sweetly.
Top-notch, James added.
Afterwards, Emily cleaned alonethe others were busy settling the kids.
Hows it going? Thomas asked, entering the kitchen.
Fine, Emily clipped.
Dont stress. Theyll find a place soon.
Mhm.
Thomas heard the ice in her voice but let it lie. Enough drama for one day.
Dawn broke with shrieks and stomping. The clock read 6:30. Emily usually rose at seven, but the kids had other plans.
Quiet, quiet! Alice hissed. Auntie and Uncle are sleeping.
Too late. Emily was awake for good.
In the kitchen, she found a tower of dirty dishessomeone had made midnight tea, and the kids had raided the biscuits.
Morning! Alice chirped. Meant to wash up, but Im not sure where everything goes.
Ill do it, Emily said automatically.
Breakfast was a military operation. Thomas gulped coffee before work, James rushed out, Alice fed the kids, and Emily darted between them all.
Em, any cereal left? Alice asked.
Think so.
Yoghurt?
One pot.
Lily, have cereal, Alice told her daughter.
I want yoghurt like at home, Lily whined.
Theres one yoghurt and two of you, Emily explained.
Then Ollie cant have any!
I want it too! Oliver protested.
Enough, Alice cut in. Cereal. Full stop.
By the time the men left and the kids settled, Emily felt like shed run a marathon. And this was only *morning*.
Alice, dont you work? Emily asked.
I do, but remotely. Ill hop on my laptop now. The kids can watch tellytheyre quiet then.
Emily nodded and fled to the bedroomthe last scrap of her old life.
But peace was fleeting.
Auntie Em, Lily knocked. Can I have juice?
Emily fetched it and retreated.
Twenty minutes later:
Auntie Em, I need the loo.
Thirty minutes after that:
Auntie Em, Mum says can we use the washing machine?
By lunch, Emily admitted defeat. Working from home was impossible with kids underfoot, Alice on calls, Mittens mewling.
Em, whats for lunch? Alice asked at one.
No clue. What dyou usually have?
Oh, well cobble something together. Got any potatoes?
A few.
Meat?
Chicken in the freezer.
Perfect, well do roast chicken.
Emily noticed Alice said *well*, yet made zero move toward the oven.
Are *you* cooking? Emily clarified.
Oh! Yes, totally, Alice said absently. Just need to finish this project by three. Maybe you could start, and Ill jump in?
Emily turned to the stove without a word.
By evening, she was at breaking point. Shed cooked, washed up twice, soothed the cat, and fielded endless kid questions. Her own work? Neglected.
When the men returned, tension hung thick.
Hows it been? Thomas asked.
Depends, Emily said coolly.
At dinner, James reported on the flat hunt:
Saw two today. Ones a rip-off, the others a dump. Viewing more tomorrow.
No rush, Thomas said magnanimously. Plenty of space here.
Emily shot him a look. *Plenty?* In a two-bed with six people?
We wont outstay our welcome, Alice said weakly.
Course not, but no need to panic.
After dinner, as the kids slept and the adults lounged, Emily pulled Thomas aside.
We need to talk.
About?
This *situation*. Its worse than I thought.
How?
The kids are relentless, I cant work, Im cooking for an army, cleaning up after everyone
Em, just hang in there. Shes my sister.
I get that. But why is *everything* on me?
Who else? Alice handles the kids, the men work.
And me? Dont I work?
Well, youre home
Being home doesnt mean Im *free*!
Thomas sighed. Fine, Ill talk to Alice. Shell pitch in more.
And James.
And James.
But the next day, nothing changed. Alice was still swamped, the men busy, and Emily stewed in domestic chaos.
By day three, she snapped.
Right, Emily announced at dinner. Were setting up a rota. Cooking, washing upturns for everyone.
Absolutely, Alice agreed. Ill cook tomorrow.
And well share cleaning, Emily added.
Naturally, James nodded.
Yet come morning, Alice begged offUrgent deadline!and James left early. Thomas was tied up.
So its me again, Emily muttered.
That evening, shed had enough.
Thomas, this isnt working.
What isnt?
Ive become the live-in staff. Cooking, cleaning, babysitting. The rest of you treat this place like a B&B.
Youre overreacting.
Am I? Who made breakfast today?
…You.
Lunch?
You.
Dinner?
Still you. But
Who washed up?
Em, enough. I get itits tough right now.
*Tough?* Its *unfair*! Why am I running a hostel?
They wont be here forever!
Its been a week. No progress. Alice says the good listings wont pop up for *another month*.
So a month, two monthsbig deal.
Not for *you*! You swan off to work. Im stuck here
Youre *home*, so its not like its *hard*
*Stop.* Emily went white. I *work* from home. Or I *would*, if I werent cooking, cleaning, and entertaining your family!
Thomas backtracked. Okay, okay. Tomorrow, well sort the rota properly.
But the talk was all vague promises. No real change.
That night, the final straw landed.
Emily was cooking when Thomas approached.
Forgot to mentionOllie and Lily start school and nursery tomorrow. Well need early breakfasts.
Right.
And packed lunches.
Sure.
Alice says theyre out of clean clothes. Maybe you could do a wash?
Maybe *she* could?
She doesnt know how our machine works.
She can learn.
Thomas hesitated, then dropped the bomb:
Anyway, with more of us, youll need to cook bigger portions.
Emily froze.
What?
Well, theyll be eating here full-time now
And?
Youll be cooking for my sisters family too, Thomas said, tone finaland instantly regretted it.
Emily set down the knife. Slowly, she turned. Her expression was newand terrifying.
Say that again.
Say what?
About me cooking.
Thomas realised his mistake. Too late.
I mean youll cook since theres more of us
*Ill* cook, Emily repeated. Right.
She unhooked her apron, hung it up, and walked out.
Em, where are you going? Thomas called.
Bedroom.
What about dinner?
*You* sort it. Youre the one giving orders.
She locked the door, hands shakingfrom rage, from exhaustion. In two weeks, shed gone from wife to skivvy. And her husband didnt even *see* it.
She yanked a suitcase from the wardrobe and began packing Thomass things. Shirts, trousers, socksall folded neatly, as always.
Later, she hauled the suitcase into the lounge, where the family lounged before the telly.
Sorry to interrupt, she said, plonking it down. Ive got a proposal.
All eyes turned.
Packed Thomass things. Think its best if you all stay at your mums cottage. Plenty of space.
Em, what the hell? Alice gasped.
Considering your comfort. The kids can run about, you wont be on top of each other.
But were settled here James protested.
*You* are. *Im* not. Two weeks as your maid is enough.
*Maid?* James spluttered.
Cook, cleaner, nanny, laundressall rolled into one.
Silence.
Em, Alice said carefully. If you feel weve taken advantage
Not *feel*. *Know.* For two weeks, Ive fed you, cleaned up after you, minded your kids. And tonight, I was *ordered* to keep doing it.
They all glared at Thomas.
I didnt *order* he stammered.
You *did*. Youll cook for my sisters family. No discussion.
Thomas shut up.
Exactly, Emily said. So off you pop to the cottage. When youve figured out how to share the load *fairly*, well talk.
This is *mad*, Thomas muttered.
Mad is you thinking you can boss me around in my own home.
An hour later, the car was packed. The drive to Dorset was silent.
Thomass mother, a spry seventy-year-old, greeted them on the porch.
To what do I owe the pleasure?
Mum, were staying a bit, Thomas mumbled.
*All* of you? For *how* long?
Until they work out how to share chores, Emily said brightly.
The older woman studied her daughter-in-law, then her son.
Ah, she said. Come in, then.
After unloading, Emily made to leave.
Em, Thomas caught her arm. This is *silly*. Lets go home and talk.
Nothing to discuss. You wanted me to be your servant? Fine. But on *my* terms. Meanwhile, draft a *fair* rotacooking, cleaning, kids. All shared. Signed by all.
And if we agree?
Then come home and show me.
The next day, Emily slept in. She had coffee in peace. Worked uninterrupted.
That evening, Thomas called.
Weve been thinking
And?
You were right. We dumped too much on you.
Go on.
Mum tore strips off us. Said we were acting like entitled brats.
Wise woman.
We made a rota. Want me to read it?
Bring it tomorrow. *Signed*.
They returned the next day, chastened.
Em, were *so* sorry, Alice said.
Didnt realise how bad it was, James admitted.
Thomas handed over the rota. Emily scanned it:
Breakfasts rotated. Lunches too. Whoever cooked, washed up. Cleaning shifts. Parents minded *their* kids.
Reasonable, Emily said. But words are cheap.
Well stick to it, Alice vowed.
Well see.
And they did. At first, everyone played their part. Alice cooked breakfasts. James washed up. Thomas hoovered. The kids stopped pestering Emily.
Of course, there were slip-ups. Alice forgot her cooking day. James missed the dishes. Thomas tried to fob off cleaning.
But now, Emily held firm.
Alice, your turn to cook.
Oh! Im swamped
Half an hour. Porridge isnt rocket science.
James, last nights dishes?
Sorry, got in late
Deals a deal.
Thomas, Saturday deep clean.
Im knackered
We all are. Do your bit.
Gradually, it stuck. Even the kids helpedtidying toys, setting tables.
A month later, Alice and James found a new flat.
Honestly? Alice confided before leaving. Im glad this happened.
Why?
At home, chores were a *mess*. James only worked, I only did kids, cleaning was a free-for-all. Now? Weve got a system. The kids help. Its *better*.
Good, Emily said.
Thank you. For not letting us walk over you.
Moving day was bittersweet. Over tea, Thomas apologised properly.
That night the youll cook thing I was a prat.
Yes, you were.
I dont want to be *that* guy. Maybe we should make a rota for *us* too?
Emily smiled. Now youre talking.
After they left, the flat blissfully quiet, Thomas asked:
Regret being so hard on us?
Not a bit, Emily said. If I hadnt, Id *still* be your maid. A family isnt a dictatorship. Its teamwork.
Lesson learned.
And Thomas? If you *ever* try to order me around again
Ill remember the suitcase, he sighed. And the cottage.
Months later, at Christmas, Alice proudly announced:
Ollie tidies his room now! *Himself!* James makes a mean roast. Ive even mastered the iron!
Brilliant, Emily grinned.
All thanks to you. If you hadnt put your foot down
Youd still be taking the piss, James laughed.
I didnt *put my foot down*, Emily corrected. I *levelled the field*.
And from then on, no one gave orders. Chores were shared. The words *youll cook* were never spoken like a command again.
Because Emily had taught them: in a family, you dont *command*.
You *cooperate*.
