15th September
I suppose I should have realised what was coming when my Aunt Gloria rang out of the blue. I was running a bath, the scent of new paint still lingering in my freshly refurbished hallway. The keys to my own flat were barely a month in my hand, after nearly three years of scrimping, counting every penny, mending a battered kettle instead of buying a takeaway coffee, and spending weekends in paint-stained dungarees learning more about flooring and skirting boards than any reasonable woman ought to. This was my crowning achievement: my sanctuary, sparkling clean and perfectly ordered, where Id planned to spend my first quiet weekend in years doing nothing but enjoying a good book and the view over the rooftops, undisturbed.
Natalie, have you gone deaf? I said, weve got the tickets already. The train gets in at Paddington just after six Saturday morning. Dont you dare oversleep! Come and collect us, wont you? I mean, well have loads of bags, and youve always had that big old estate, plenty of room. And dont forget, Sophies bringing the twins, Aunt Glorias voice boomed through the phone, drowning out even the running water.
I froze, phone pressed to my ear, my mind trying to catch up. What train? What tickets? No one had so much as hinted about visiting, let alone come en masse. I hadn’t invited anyone.
Sorry, Aunt Gloria, did you say which train? Sorry, what exactly are you talking about? I havent invited anyone this weekend.
It was quiet on the other enda heavy, charged silence. Then Gloria took a deep breath; I could almost hear it whistling down the line like a warning siren.
What do you mean, you havent invited us? Natalie, dont be daft. Theres a reason, honestlyUncle Mikes seventieth, remember? He lives right in your neck of the woods, you know. The whole clans coming. So why fork out for a hotel when our niece has her posh place done up, eh? Your mum told us you got a three-bed, all freshly decorated. Itll be me, Uncle Colin, Sophie and her husband, and the twins. Thats only six! Well squeeze. You dont need to fusssome blankets on the floor will do. Were not fussy.
I perched on my new bar stool, feeling the beginnings of a headache throbbing at my temple. Six of them. Aunt Gloria, who snores like a chainsaw and likes to take charge in other peoples kitchens. Uncle Colin, whos never said no to a whiskey and smokes on balconiesmy new balcony, mind, now a part of the living room housing my best armchair. Sophie and her husband, Pete, and the infamous twin-tornadoes, five-year-olds who seem to be raised under the principle that every surface is their canvas and anything bounceable must be bounced.
Aunt Gloria, I said as firmly as I could, gazing at my pristine ivory kitchen. Im sorry, but Im just not able to host you. The place isnt even fully furnished yet, and Im still busy with work. I need my weekends to catch up on reports.
Oh, dont be ridiculous! Gloria huffed, Weekends are for family! Besides, well bring our own bedding, were not princesses! After all weve done for you, youre not about to bar us from your new home, are you? Dont forget, I gave you that beautiful porcelain dolly for your fifth birthday!
That wretched dolla bartered one-legged thing from the jumblehad somehow grown into family legend, trotted out every time Aunt Gloria wanted a favour.
Aunt Gloria, I understand, but the answers no. The flat is new, Ive only just finished decorating, and Im not ready for visitorsespecially six at once. Uncle Mike lives on the other side of London from me, thats hours for you anyway. Honestly, it would be more sensible to get a short-term let nearby. I can send you some links.
Well I never! Gloria shrieked, Links! Listen to you! You get yourself a London flat, and suddenly youre too posh for all of us? Dont forget where you come from! If it werent for us
Aunt Gloria, I cut in, feeling a cold determination rising in me. Im not being snobbish. Im saying I simply cant do it. Please dont buy tickets expecting to stay with me. I wont open the door.
I hung up before I could hear the rest. My hands shook a bit. I knew, of course, this was only the opening volley. The artillery would arrive soon enough.
Ten minutes and sure enough, Mum called.
Natalie, what is wrong with you? she started, voice sharp and wounded. Glorias beside herself, says you threw them out. Shes in tears, says her blood pressures through the roof!
I didnt throw anyone out, Mum. I explained I cant put up a whole circus for a weekend. Ive got new floors, pale walls And you know exactly what Sophies kids get up to. Last time they ruined Grandmas telly and turned her cat green with poster paint, and all Sophie did was stare and laugh. I dont want that in my home.
But Natalie, theyre family! Mums voice took on that tone reserved for stating the obvious to the terminally slow. Its only for a couple of days. You could cover up the nice things, move the rugs. Better that than have everyone think youre stone-hearted, and you know Gloriashell tell everyone.
I dont care if she does, I replied. Why am I the one expected to put my comfort and belongings in jeopardy so Aunt Gloria can save a few pounds? Its Uncle Mikes big day, theyre spending on gifts and train tickets. Theres no reason they cant book a place to stay.
Youre selfish, just like your father, Mum sighed, the familiar accusation. He was always more interested in his own peace and quiet too. Carry on, youll end up all alone, no one to make you a cup of tea in your old age.
Better make my own tea than scrub someone elses mess off my walls, I muttered, and switched my phone off.
The week dragged, nerves set on edge. Silence from the lot of them. No angry messages from Sophie, no calls from Aunt Gloria. I started to hope, maybe theyd come to their senses. I’d been clear, after allno means no.
Saturday dawned beautifully. I woke refreshed, brewed coffee, pulled on my best silk dressing gown, and padded into the lounge. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the city below still waking up. Id planned to read, perhaps order a nice lunch, maybe run a bath with a scented candle later.
At nine, the door buzzer shattered the peace.
I nearly spilled coffee all over my cream rug. Heart hammering, I went to the entry phone, dreading what I already knew Id see. There, on the tiny screen, was the mass of them, all bulging holdalls, Glorias flushed red face looming, Uncle Colins cap askew, and already the twins frantically pushing every available button.
Natalie, open up! Surprise! Gloria crowed at the camera. Were gasping, honestly, let us in for a cuppa at least!
I leant against the wall, pulse racing. Theyd come anyway. Theyd ignored everything Id said, counting on sheer presence to wear me down. This is the old family techniqueput you in a corner and dare you to say no to their faces.
I counted to five, then pressed talk.
I told you not to come. Please go to the cafe next door if you need the loo, I said in my calmest voice. I wont be letting you in.
Oh, stop this nonsense! Gloria swatted the air. You had your strop. Were your family. Let us in, the little ones cant wait any longer.
Theres a cafe next door. Free toilets. Im not opening the door, I said.
Gloria pressed her face to the lens, her nose a distorted blob. Are you serious? With all our bags? Your own flesh and blood standing here? Your mum knows were here! Ill shame you in front of the whole block!
Do as you like, I said quietly. I said no. I sent you addresses of guesthouses. Goodbye.
I cut the call and disabled the intercom.
Next, the pounding on my front door began. Someone mustve come in while a neighbour left.
Natalie! Sophies voice cracked from the other side. Have you lost your mind? The kids are exhausted! Open the door!
Open up, you selfish cow! Uncle Colin roared, We brought goodiessome bacon and fresh gherkins!
Cold fear mixed with humiliation. For a second, all I wanted was to open up, to silence the uproarwhat would the neighbours think? But then I pictured it: six people tramping dirt across my clean floors, bags gouging my walls, musty coats and stale perfume permeating every room. And wondered how Id feel living with that.
No.
Loudly, through the door, I said: Im calling the police. If you dont leave now, Ill report a disturbance and attempted forced entry.
It went still.
Youll be the death of your own mother! Gloria wailed. The police! Against your own aunt! May your tongue rot!
Im counting to three, I said, phone in hand. One.
Mum, shes nuts. Lets go, she will call the police for real. Well be a laughing stock, I heard Sophie mutter, voice suddenly defeated.
Two.
Stuff you! Colin thundered, kicking the door for effect. Enjoy your precious flat. Rot in it!
Three.
A flurry of movement, angry footsteps, a childs meltdown, and then the stomping slowly faded down the stairwellapparently the queue for the lift was too much.
I stood breathless, listening to the silence return.
At last, shaking, I slid down against the wall until I was sitting on the warm ceramic tiles. Tears streamed down my facenot for them, but for the sheer strain of standing my ground. For once, Id defended my own space.
Back in the lounge, my phone vibrated endlesslymissed calls from Mum, Aunt Gloria, and a few unknown numbers (no doubt other inflamed relatives stirred up for effect). I switched it off completely, poured myself a glass of water, and looked out the window to see them loading into a black cab below, gesturing and pointing at my windows.
I thought back to five years ago: a student in unfamiliar London, no university halls, funds running low. Id asked Aunt Gloria if I could stay for just a week or two. Her reply? Sorry, love, were having the house done, dust and all that, wouldnt be good for you. Sophies got her boyfriend staying, you know how it is. Youll have to sort yourself out. Id spent three nights on a bench at Euston, clutching my backpack, until I found a room with an old widow in exchange for walking her poodle and making her tea.
Blood, apparently, didnt count then.
Now, with me the one with a half-decent flat, it suddenly did.
Not this time, I muttered. With a sigh, I put on some soft jazz, brewed another coffee, and tried to salvage my day. At least the flat was undamaged.
That evening, after I turned my phone back on, the avalanche hit.
Youre no longer our cousin, sister, or niece!Gloria.
How could you do that to Mum, after all shes done!Sophie.
Im ashamed I ever gave birth to you.Mum. That one stung the worst.
I stared at the screen for ages. Part of me wanted to reply, to remind them of Euston and Aunt Glorias refusal, to explain that I was entitled to boundaries. But I realised it was useless. Theyd never see me as anything but a resource that had bitten back.
I messaged Mum just once: I love you. But Im an adult, and this is my homemy rules. If you want to visit, just let me know first, and youre welcome anytime alone. No more using family as blackmail. Gloria showed me what family meant to her when I needed it most. Ive done nothing more than repay the favour.
No reply.
The weeks passed. Life settled into its new rhythm. My relatives froze me outno invitations to birthdays or Christmas, removed me from the WhatsApp family group. Oddly, I felt lighter. No obligatory gifts for distant cousins kids, no unwanted advice about getting married, no meddling about my job or salary.
A month later, Mum rang. Her voice was flat, but calm. She asked about work, whether I was keeping up with my bills. Glorias name didnt come up. I didnt mention it either.
Family gatherings carried on without me. I caught my neighbours curious glances in the lift, but nothing was said. One young woman with a Yorkie winked at me once and said, Happy moving in! Solid front door youve got!
Half a year laterChristmas nearly upon usmy doorbell rang. Sophie stood there, by herself. No Pete, no children. She looked a wreck, streaked makeup and puffy eyes.
I let her in.
Hi, she said, voice small, Can I come in?
I hesitated for a second, then stood aside.
Come in. Shoes off by the mat.
She moved to the kitchen and sat, awkward on the edge of the chair.
Ive left Pete, she blurted. He was drinking a lot started getting violent. I took the twins to Mums. I have nowhere to go. Mum blames me, says I drove him away. Gloria said I should stick it out for the family. I just cant.
She looked up, tears streaming down her face.
Natalie, please. Just for a couple of nights. Ill keep out of the way, honestly. Ill sleep on the floor.
I looked at herfor a moment, I saw not the bitter face at the entry camera months back, but just a scared, broken woman.
You dont have to sleep on the floor, I sighed. The sofa pulls out.
She sat stunned.
You after all that?
Yes. But ground rules, I said, pouring her a cup of tea. First, no kidsits not childproof here. Second, youve got one week, max, while you find a place. Ill help you find a room. Third, no talking to Aunt Gloria about me, no gossip. Break that, youre out.
Thank you, she whispered. Honestly, thank you. We were just jealous, you know. You got free, got your own place, made something for yourself. The rest of us are stuck.
Jealousy destroys, Soph, I said. Drink your tea, Ill make up the sofa.
She stayed five days. She was quiet, almost invisible, did her own dishes, and kept to her corner. On the sixth day, she found a bedsit and moved out.
It was the beginning of a turning point. Sophie changed bit by bit. She filed for divorce, got a job, limited contact with her mum and Aunt Gloria. We started meeting for drinks or the odd film.
Aunt Gloria never forgave me, but I found I didnt care. Sitting on my own settee with a book and a glass of red, I thought about that old saying: An Englishmans home is his castle. Its more than a platitude. Its a survival strategy. And sometimes, if you want peace in your castle, you simply have to keep the drawbridge upeven if your own name is shouted from the other side.
Thats the lesson, really. Compromise is fine, but not at the expense of the life you built, brick by precious brick. And youre not obliged to open your doorjust because the person knocking shares your blood.
