These aren’t my children. If you want to help your sister, do so, but not at my expense. She broke up her family and now she’s dumping her children on us while she sorts out her own life.
Youve made your home so lovely, brother. Im honest, I envy you a bit.
Janet traced her finger over the lace on the tablecloth, casting a searching look over the kitchen. Susan placed the salad bowl on the table and sat down across from her husband. Stan smiled warmly at his sister, entirely missing the way his wife clenched her napkin in her fist beneath the table.
We tried. Took us half a year before we found a decent place.
Theyd sold their London flat and come to Bedford, to be closer to Stans side of the family. Their own bit of land, a vegetable patch, peace and quietSusan had longed for this for years. Just two months before, her dream had finally come true.
Couldnt manage to hold my own family together, though, Janet sighed, staring into her plate. Three months on and its still like living in a fog. I wake up in the night and theres no one beside me. The children ask where their fathers gone. I never know what to say.
Their mother, Mrs. Barbara Watson, sat at the head of the table and reached a comforting hand to her daughter.
Dont fret, love. Itll come right. The main thing is the children are healthy. That scoundrel will regret leaving, mark my words.
Four-year-old Kevin, Janets son, tumbled off his chair and ran for the sitting room. There was an almighty crasha telltale sign something had fallen from the shelf.
Careful, dear! Janet called, though she didnt move from her seat.
Three-year-old Alice began to whimper in her mothers lap, demanding attention. Janet gently bounced her knee, only half-listening as she continued,
At least youre close by now. Mums barely managing after her hip operation. Theres no one left to lend a hand.
I barely made it over in the taxi, Barbara said, rubbing her knee. Fourth floor, no bloody lift, blood pressures playing upby the time I climbed the stairs I thought Id drop then and there. I can hardly look after myself, let alone the grandchildren.
Susan rose to fetch the main course. Tomato seedlings stood on the kitchen windowsilltiny green shoots in peat pots. Just a month more and theyd be ready for the garden. The promise of her first home-grown tomatoes in all her life.
I hope you wont mind if I have to leave the children with you sometimes? Janet called across the kitchen. Only in emergencies, really. Ill keep it rare. Ive got to find work, see the doctor, meet the solicitor about the divorce. And I cant take the children everywhere, can I?
Susan paused and turned. She saw in Janets eyes that same vulnerable look shed come to know too well over the years. Twenty-seven, and she still played her strings like a violin.
Stan nodded at his sister with gentle sympathy.
Of course, Jan. Well help out, wont we, Sue?
All eyes turned to her; three expectant gazes, awaiting the right and only answer.
Yes, of course, Susan said. If its really needed.
Janet beamed.
Youre lifesavers! I really wont be long, honest. Couple of hours, tops.
The guests departed around eleven. Stan called a taxi for his mother and helped her down the stepsshe groaned on every tread, clutching the handrail. Janet bundled sleepy children into her battered Ford Escort and drove off, leaning from the window to shout, Thanks for a lovely evening. Youre the best!
Susan cleared the table in silence, stacking crockery in the sink. Stan came behind her and wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on her hair.
See? A lovely evening. Mums happy, Jans cheered up. Definitely the right move, coming here.
Mm.
Youre tired, love?
A bit.
Susan didnt say what was really eating at her. Sometimes, if its desperate, kept going round in her head. She recognised too well how rarely that really meant rarely at all, but every day, because its easier for me.
A week later, Janet rang early in the morning.
Sue, help me out, will you? Got to see a doctor, its urgent, Mum cant cope with the kids on her own. Only three hours, I promise, Ill collect them at lunch.
Susan eyed her laptop, with its open spreadsheetsthe end-of-quarter report was due by Friday, and the client was waiting.
Jan, Ive got a deadline
Theyre angelic, honestly, theyll just potter about! Pop the telly on, you wont hear a peep. Please, Sue, I really need this.
Half an hour later, the children were delivered to her door. Lunch passed, but Janet didnt return; afternoon slipped quietly into evening.
At six, Stan came home from work and stuck his head in the sitting room, spotting the children in front of the television.
Jan still not picked them up?
Noshe promised at midday, then messaged shes running late.
No matter, he shrugged, opening a beer from the fridge. Theyre not strangers. Let them stay as long as they need.
Susan said nothing. Kevin had already spilled juice on the carpet, and she was down to the last nappy for Alicethe rucksack only held one.
Janet arrived at nearly nine, cheeks pink, smiling and smelling of coffee.
Sorry, got held up! Youre absolute stars, both of you!
Susan was up till three finishing her report, mind fogged, childrens shrieks still echoing in her head.
Four days later, it happened again. Important job interview. Janet dropped the children off at nine and promised to return by three. Stan was home, catching up on sleep after a late shift. He surfaced at noon and shuffled into the kitchen.
Still got the kids?
As you can see.
Never mind, he said, brewing tea and switching on the football. Dont let it get to you. Im here.
He waswatching football in the sitting room while Susan ran between laptop and children. Kevin kept coming to himUncle Stan, play with mebut Stan only waved a hand, Later, mate, big match on.
Janet collected the children at eight in the evening.
By the third week, the visits had become routine. Three times a week, sometimes four. Doctors, solicitors, interviews, friends. Just a couple of hours always grew to fill the whole day.
One late evening as the children finally left, Susan sat across from Stan.
Stan, this cant go on.
What cant?
Three times a week. I cant keep up with work.
He frowned.
Shes had a bad time, Sue. Her husbands left her, shes on her own with two little ones. Shes family.
I know that. But she promises lunchtime and comes at ten at night. Thats not helping
What is it, then?
Susan wanted to say taking liberties, living off us. She bit her tongue at the last moment and said nothing.
Mum rang today, Stan continued. She says Janets young, she just needs a bit of time. Im her brotherits my duty to help.
And me?
Youre my wife, he replied, as if that explained it all. Were one family.
Susan turned to the window. Outside, the night was drawing in. The seedlings stretched on the sill, waiting for her to plant them on Saturday, as shed planned.
There was no point arguing.
Friday evening, Stan came home from work and announced at once,
Janet rang. Asked if we could watch the children again tomorrow. Shes off to two job interviews and the cars playing upwants to leave it at the garage.
Susan closed her laptop and looked at him.
Stan, weve talked about this. I cant spend every weekend doing this.
Dont be like that, he tossed his coat onto a chair, heading for the fridge. Shes my sister. Whats the harm? Youre at home anyway.
Im not just sitting at home. I work from home. Thats really not the same.
Oh, you can work while the kids watch their cartoons. Its no big deal.
She nearly argued, but caught the stricken, weary look on his face and stayed silent. Tomorrow was Saturday. Shed saved it for the seedlingsthey were ready for planting, she couldnt put it off any longer.
Fine, she said, let her bring them.
Saturday morning, Janet arrived just before eleven. Susan opened the door and hesitated a moment: her sister-in-law was in a smart new dress, hair carefully done, made up like she was meeting a date rather than going to job interviews.
Thank you, you angels! Janet beamed, shoving Kevin and Alice into the hallway. Five oclock, six at the latest, I promise!
Jan, what about their bag?
Oh, in the car! Wait there.
Back in a minute, she thrust the rucksack at Susan.
Nappies, changes of clothes, all there. Right, got to dash, already late!
The door slammed behind her. Susan was left with two children and a half-empty bag. Stan, meanwhile, was in the garage tinkering with their car, having promised to help a neighbour.
By one, Kevin was bored with cartoons and tearing around the house. Alice was whining for food, then water, then to be picked up. Susan flitted between the kitchen and children, struggling to get lunch made.
At two, Stan poked his head in.
Hows it going?
Fine, Susan said, wiping her hands. Can you watch them a minute? I need to plant the seedlings before its too late.
Sure, just let me wash up.
She slipped into the garden, arranging pots, tools, kneeling by the vegetable patch to dig holes. But after ten minutes, a crash from inside, then a childs wail.
She dropped her trowel and rushed in.
In the sitting room, Stan lounged on the sofa, phone in hand. Kevin stood among the shattered remains of a clay pot, soil spilled everywhere, snapped tomato seedlings trampled underfootthe ones shed nurtured on the windowsill for two months.
What happened?
He climbed on the windowsill, Stan said, eyes never leaving his phone. Didnt get there in time.
Susan stared at the messsoil on the carpet, the broken green stems, all crushed. That plant was more than a hobby; it symbolised her hope for a better lifeone shed delayed yet again for the sake of someone elses children.
Auntie Susan, are you cross? Kevin looked up at her, pleading.
No, she knelt, gathering shards. Go to Uncle Stan.
Stan finally put his phone down.
Never mind, its only seedlings. You can plant some more.
She said nothing. Her throat tightened. It wasnt only seedlings; it was her hope, once again trampled for others.
At five, Janet didnt come. At six, she sent a messageJust a bit longer. Silence at seven. Susan called her, but the phone went straight to voicemail.
At eight, a car pulled up outside. Susan glanced out: a shiny, expensive black Land Rover at the gatecertainly not a garage loaner.
Janet tumbled out, flushed and merry, swaying slightly in her high heels. A man in a leather jacket sat at the wheel.
Thanks, Mark! Ill ring you! she called.
The car pulled away. Janet turned, spotted Susan on the steps.
Oh, hello, sorry Im late. Met an old mate after my interview, he gave me a lift.
Susan caught a whiff of herwine and something sweet, perhaps liqueur or a cocktail. There had been no interview, no mechanics garage. Janet had simply dropped off her children and gone off to enjoy herself.
How was the interview? Susan asked evenly.
What? Oh, fine. They said theyll get back to me.
And the garage?
Janet faltered ever so slightly.
Booked for next week, theres a waiting list apparently.
A lie, smoothly delivered.
Oh, by the way, Janet scanned her phone, Will you be able to manage them Wednesday? Another interview.
No.
It was a solid, unyielding word. Janets eyes snapped to her.
What do you mean, no?
Exactly that. I cant manage Wednesday.
But why? Youre at home anyway
I work from home. And I have other plans.
Janets face hardened, then suddenly crumpled; her lips wobbled, and her eyes grew bright with tears.
Susan, you must understand how hard it is for me now. Alone with two little ones. I thought you and Stan would stand by me. Ive no one else, really. You cant even spare me a day?
I have been helpingfor three weeks. But Im not a child-minder, or a nursery.
Whats got into you? Janets tone sharpened. Its no big deal to watch the kids! Theyre family!
Theyre not my responsibility, Susan was surprised how calm she sounded. Theyre your children, Janet. Your responsibility.
Stan appeared in the hall, catching the end of their exchange. He frowned.
Whats this about?
Janet immediately turned to her brother, the tears returning.
Your wife says she wont help me. I only asked for one day, and she
She choked, pressing a hand to her heart.
You know what situation Im in. I thought my own brother, my own family, would support me. But clearly…
She trailed off, waving her hand as she headed for the car. At the threshold, she glanced back.
You could try being kinder, Susan. Just kinder.
She dialled a cab, sitting on the step without a word to Susan. Then, gathering up her sleepy children, she leftwithout a goodbye.
Susan stood there feeling something odda prick of guilt, perhaps, or shame. Was she really too harsh?
Stan watched Janets car disappear down the lane, then turned back to his wife.
Was that really necessary?
What do you mean?
She was asking nicelyand you He left the sentence hanging as he walked inside.
A week of quiet followed. Then Stan came home and, as soon as he stepped over the threshold, began,
Janet rang again. Another important interview. Just let her, one last time? Please, dont be difficult.
Stan, we
Just once more. I promise. If she pulls that trick again, Ill see to it myself.
Susan met his eyes. He looked tired, lostcaught precariously between sister and wife.
All right. One last time.
The next day, Janet breezed in, planting kisses on her children as she went.
Thank you thank you, Im in a rush, theyre waiting for me already!
She was gone in the blink of an eye. Susan was left with Kevin and Alice.
At lunchtime, she checked her phone while waiting for an email from work. There was a familiar face on her social feedJanet. A new photograph.
Susan opened it. Janet, sitting at a café table, friends around her with wine glasses, a mans hand on her shoulder. The caption: Met up with old school friends! So good to feel like myself again.
Posted twenty minutes ago.
Susan stared at the screen. It all made sense. No interviews, no doctors, no garage. Janet simply left her children to live as she wanted, her own troubles set aside. And her husband who leftperhaps he wasnt all that much of a villain; maybe hed simply grown weary.
She rang Stan.
Come home and look after your niece and nephew yourself.
Whats got into you? his voice was puzzled. Im at work.
Then let your mother fetch them. But Im not doing this any longer.
Susan, whats happened?
Go on your sisters social feed. Check where she is right now. Then well talk.
He hesitated, then sighed.
Fine, Ill get off early.
Stan arrived two hours later, walked in, glanced at the children, then his wife.
Saw the photo, he muttered.
And?
Who knows, maybe it really was just a catch up
Stan, she turns up tipsy every time. Last time, some man in a flash car gave her a lift. Open your eyes.
Theyre my nephew and niece, he said, voice rising. Its not their fault.
And is it my fault? Susan felt her anger rise. Theyre not my children, Stan. I dont owe anyone my time, my work, my peace of mind. If you want to help your sister, do itnot at my expense.
Shes my sister!
Who made her bed, and now wants to dump her children and her mess on us so she can go out and enjoy herself.
Thats unfair!
Its true. Every time the same storychildren dropped off, lies about interviews and appointments. Ive had enough. Have you?
Stan was quiet. He rubbed his face.
All right, he said finally. Dont get worked up. I hear you.
Janet came for her children late that evening. They were sleeping on the sofa, tucked under a blanket. She came in quiet, about to spin a taleroadworks, flat phone batterybut Stan cut her off.
Jan, this stops now.
What do you mean? she blinked.
You cant keep leaving the kids all day and disappearing. Were not a day nursery.
Janet looked from him to Susan, something dawning on her face.
Did she put you up to this?
No, I made up my own mind.
Janet scoffed, scooped up Kevin.
Well, I see how it is. Some relations you turned out to be.
She left without so much as a thank you. The door banged behind her, rattling the windows.
Next morning over tea, the phone rang. Mum calling.
Stan answered.
Yes, Mum.
Susan caught only fragments of Barbaras voicesharp, clipped, crackling through the handset.
So thats it then? Cant help your own sister? I cant do it myself yet, you know
Mum, we cant either. We have our own lives.
Well, thats rich. Buy a nice house and forget your family! I see how it is!
She hung up. Stan set the phone down and looked at Susan.
Shes upset.
I noticed.
They sat in silence. Outside, the sun glowed warm; on the sill sat an empty flowerpot, a ghost of her cherished seedlings. Susan stared at it, remembering: theyd moved here seeking peace and quiet, for their own slice of life, their own land, their own moments. Instead, theyd inherited other peoples children and problems, and family that saw them only as perpetual debtors.
Stan reached for her hand.
Sorry, he murmured. I shouldve put a stop to it sooner.
Susan didnt reply, just gripped his fingers tightly. It didnt feel like a victory. Barbara was offended, Janet in a fury, and aheadmonths of uneasy silence. But for the first time in weeks, she felt relief, not exhaustion. Shed said noand her husband had truly listened.
The restwell, that could wait.
