—Morning,— muttered Daisy, stepping into the office and sinking into her chair. She switched on her computer, her gaze drifting to the window where thick clouds blurred into the damp sky. She didn’t even glance at her colleagues.
—Morning,— replied Victoria and Emily, exchanging a look and shrugging. Normally cheerful and chatty—Daisy’s warmth was the talk of their department—she sat stiff-lipped and silent. It was as if the rain outside had seeped into her soul, drowning everything in grey.
Three women worked in their shared office: Daisy, thirty, married with one son, quiet and meticulous; Victoria, the eldest at thirty-six, with two children, always buzzing with energy; and Emily, the youngest at twenty-seven, living with her boyfriend but never married. Victoria, true to her role, was the one who sparked breaks and conversations.
—Girls, how about a cuppa?— She broke the silence, rising towards the corner where the kettle waited. —Be right back.
—Go on,— Emily agreed. Daisy said nothing.
Minutes later, Victoria returned with a tray bearing three mugs. She handed them out. Daisy gave a silent nod, no smile, no thanks. Emily tried to lighten the mood:
—Ta, Vicky! You’re a proper lifesaver.
They shared a laugh, but Daisy’s smile was fleeting. Victoria exhaled sharply.
—Daisy, love, what’s wrong? You’ve got us thinking we’ve done something.
—No, it’s not you,— Daisy shook her head. —Just… home’s a mess. Well, not home. Family.
—Marissa again?— Emily frowned. —Honestly, how much more can you take? Ignore her. Bottling it up isn’t good for you.
—How do I ignore her when we’re practically sharing walls? Two houses on the same plot. My Tom acts like he doesn’t notice, and his brother Jack’s alright. But Marissa… She’s a nightmare. Last night, I finally snapped. Told her everything. Now I don’t even know how we’ll live like this.
When Daisy married Thomas, his father had built two identical homes in the garden—one for his elder son, Jack, the other for Tom. After the wedding, Daisy and Thomas moved into theirs, neighbours to Jack and his wife, Marissa. But barely days after the celebration, tragedy struck: Tom and Jack’s parents died in a car crash. The brothers were left alone, side by side, with their families.
At first, things were fine. Both women had children around the same time. Life seemed parallel, harmonious. But slowly, Daisy realised how different she and Marissa were.
Marissa was loud, brash, never content. Daisy was the opposite—reserved, craving quiet mornings with coffee and music, peace in her own space. Tom was just as steady. In that way, they fit perfectly.
—I’ve never liked crowds. My family’s my world,— Daisy had once told her colleagues. —Just Tom and our boy. We don’t need anyone else.
Marissa didn’t see it that way.
—We’re all family, we should stick together. What’s with this distance?— she’d insist.
If only it were just talk. From the start, Marissa acted like she owned the whole garden. Their house, their choices—nothing was off-limits. She’d barge in without knocking, even when Daisy was feeding or putting their son to bed.
—Oh, thought you were up! Never mind then!— And the door would slam.
On weekends, when Daisy rose early to enjoy her coffee alone, Marissa would appear at the window like clockwork:
—Making coffee? Pour me one, won’t you?— And within minutes, she’d be planted at the kitchen table.
—Sometimes I just want to be alone,— Daisy confessed to Tom. —But she’s like a storm crashing into my quiet.
But speaking up felt wrong. Good manners held her back. Even Jack, Marissa’s husband, had scolded her:
—Leave Tom and Daisy be. You wouldn’t like it if someone barged in on you.
One evening, after a gruelling week, Daisy ordered sushi—a small celebration for their son’s straight A’s. The moment she stepped out to collect it, Marissa flew from next door:
—Sushi?! You ordered sushi and didn’t tell me? Why d’you always keep secrets?— The tirade that followed was venomous.
Daisy froze. Tom tried to defuse it, but Marissa made a scene for the whole street. Jack dragged her inside, but the shouting echoed through the walls long after. Daisy shut the door behind her and wept.
—Why must I justify every bite I take, every breath I draw? That was our evening! Our family! I don’t answer to her!— Her voice cracked. —She’s always there, always noisy. We just want peace.
The next morning, she arrived at the office hollow. When she shared it all, her colleagues could only shake their heads.
—Ten years of this?— Victoria flung her hands up. —I’d have kicked her out long ago. I couldn’t bear it.
—You’ve got your own family. Tom, your boy. That’s yours. The rest? Let them call themselves ‘family’ all they like—they can live how they please,— Emily added.
—Yeah…— Daisy breathed out. —I’ve always stayed quiet. Always yielded. But now… enough. Next time, I’ll stand my ground. Manners be damned.
Outside, the rain still drizzled. But for the first time in years, something brightened inside Daisy. Because she’d finally understood: she had every right to silence. To peace. To herself. Without someone else’s noise bleeding through the walls.
