“Listen carefully,” her mothers partner continued, his voice sharp. “Either your daughter hands over the car, or she moves out. I wont live in a house where Im disrespected!”
“And where exactly is she supposed to go?” her mother replied, strained.
“Not my problem. Shes grown. Time she learned to stand on her own two feet.”
Emily stood in the hallway of her parents house, listening as her mother explained through the bathroom door why she had to give up her car.
“Emily, love, use your head! Andrew needs it for work every day. Youre just a studentcant you manage with the bus?”
The girl leaned against the wall and shut her eyes. The car had been a gift from her grandad for her twentiethold, but hers. Her first. Hed said, “So you dont have to rely on anyone. So you can decide where to go yourself.”
“Mum, the cars in my name,” Emily replied calmly.
“So what? Were family!” Her mothers voice pitched higher. “Andrews like a father to you. Remember how he helped with your A-level maths?”
Emily remembered. She remembered the shouting over every mistake, the textbook slammed on the table when she didnt grasp something immediately.
“Thick as two short planks! Just like your mother!” hed snap.
The hum of a hairdryer buzzed from the bathroomher mum was clearly getting ready to go out. In five minutes, shed emerge, and the conversation would continue. Emily didnt want that.
“Ill think about it,” she lied, retreating to her room.
But there was nothing to think about. She wasnt giving up the car. What to do next, thoughthat was the question.
Emily was in her final year at university, tutoring English on the side. Money was tight, but she got by.
If you ignored the fact that “getting by” meant living in a house where every step she took was scrutinised and criticised.
Andrew had entered their lives when Emily was eleven. Her mum met him at worktall, bearded, always talking, always sure of himself.
Her mum liked that. Her dad had been differentquiet, thoughtful. After the divorce, hed moved to London and rarely called.
At first, Andrew tried. Brought sweets, asked about school, even took her to the cinema a few times. Emily had thought, “Maybe hes alright.” But it didnt last.
Once Andrew settled in properly, everything changed. He began ordering her aroundnot asking, not suggesting, commanding. As if she were a housemaid, not the daughter of the woman who owned the place.
“Make tea. Clean up after yourself. Dont stomp. Dont slam doors. Turn the telly down.” The list of demands grew daily.
And her mum? Her mum became Andrews greatest advocate. Any complaint he made, she echoed and amplified.
“Emily, love, Andrews tired from work. Cant you walk quieter?”
“Emily, hes right, you know. Must you play music so loud?”
“Emily, think of others.”
“Others” meant Andrew. Because when Emily was revising for exams and begged them to lower the TV volume, no one cared.
“Were not in a library,” Andrew would scoff. “If you want quiet, stay in your room.”
Her room was tinya converted storage space with just a bed and a desk. When she hid there, the walls pressed in, the air felt thin. But there was no other escape.
Eventually, Emily learned to be invisible. Came home when Andrew was asleep or out. Ate in the kitchen when no one was there. Avoided family conversations.
It workeduntil the car debacle.
The next morning, her mum knocked on her door.
“Emily, are you awake? We need to talk.”
Emily sat up. Her mum wore a new dressclearly not cheaphair neatly styled. She was going somewhere.
“Im listening.”
“Andrew was upset last night. He thought youd agree about the car.”
“Why would he think that?”
Her mum sat on the edge of the bed, gazing out the window.
“Emily, you must understand Andrew and I are planning a wedding. We want it to be nice, invite guests. But moneys well, you know how things are.”
Emily stayed silent.
“Andrew needs the car for work. Hes got a new role, more responsibility. Hell be driving all over. Buses arent practical.”
“Then he should buy his own.”
“With what?” Her mums voice rose, then she caught herself. “Emily, were not strangers. Were family! Andrews done so much for you”
“Like what?”
Her mum faltered. Hesitated.
“Well he helped raise you. Like a father. Tutored you”
“You mean shouted at me.”
“Dont you dare!” Her mum stood abruptly. “He tried! And youyouve always been ungrateful. Your dad spoiled you, thats the problem.”
The room went quiet. Emily stared at her mother and barely recognised her. Once, theyd been close. Once, her mum had defended hernot some strange man.
“Im not giving him the car,” Emily said.
“Then find somewhere else to live,” her mum replied coldly, walking out.
Emily sat alone, chest tight, breath shallow. Shed never imagined it would come to this.
That evening, when Andrew returned from work, the drama resumed. Through the thin walls, she heard it all.
“Well? Did you talk to your daughter?” Andrew asked.
“I did. She wont budge.”
“Right. Shouldve been stricter with her. Too much coddling.”
“Andrew, shes young. She doesnt understand.”
“And when will she? When shes a mother herself? No, Linda. If we dont put her in her place now, shell walk all over us.”
Her mum murmured something too quiet to hear.
“Listen to me,” Andrew pressed. “Either she hands over the car, or she goes. I wont live where Im not respected!”
“But where will she go?”
“Not our problem. Shes an adult. Time she acted like one.”
Emily didnt sleep that night. Just lay there wonderingwould her mum really choose him?
The answer came two days later. Her mum entered her room, face solemn.
“Emily, Andrew and I have decided. If you wont compromise, youll have to live elsewhere.”
“Youre serious?”
“Dead serious. Youre workingyou can afford rent.”
Emily studied her mother a long moment.
“Fine. Ill leave.”
Her mum clearly expected tears, begging, maybe a row. Not this calm acceptance.
“Emily are you sure?”
“Whats there to think about? Youve made your choice. Now Im making mine.”
It took less than a week to find a placea room in a shared house near campus. Cheap but clean, with a kindly elderly landlady who didnt pry.
As Emily packed, her mum lingered in the doorway.
“Maybe this is a mistake”
“Mum, dont. Its the right thing.”
“But I didnt mean to push you out. Its just Andrew”
“Andrew matters more. I get it.”
Her mum started crying.
“Dont say that. Youre my daughter.”
“Was,” Emily replied flatly, stacking books into a box.
The first weeks in the shared house were hard. Not because of the logisticsshe adapted quickly. Hard because her mother had chosen a stranger over her.
But life settled. More tutoring clients came. Money stretched to rent, food, even little luxuries.
She could eat when she wanted. Play music. Have friends over. No one ordered her about, criticised, or staged scenes.
Her mum rarely called. Mostly on holidays.
“How are you, love? Everything alright?”
“Fine.”
“Maybe visit sometime?”
“Well see.”
But Emily never did. And her mum knew why.
Six months passed. Emily had adjusted when her mum phoned late one evening, voice oddtired or upset.
“Emily, can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Sure.”
Her mum arrived within the hour, looking awfuldrawn, dark circles under her eyes. Sat at the table in silence.
“Whats happened?” Emily asked.
“Andrews left.”
“What?”
“For another woman. Someone from work. Ten years younger.”
Emily poured tea, slid a mug across.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago. At first, I thought hed come back. Yesterday, he came for his things and said hes filing for divorce.”
Her mum cried thennot dramatically, just exhausted.
“I was a fool, wasnt I?”
Emily didnt answer. What could she say?
They drank in silence. Then her mum asked,
“Can I stay tonight? I cant face going home
