Theyll Stay Temporarily
Listen, darling, theres a bit of a situation
I braced myself. Whenever Mum began a conversation with that slow, deliberate drawlliiistenit was never good news.
Do you remember Sophie? Aunt Veras daughter? My third cousin, sort of your distant relative.
Sort of Mum, I met her just once. At Grandmas funeral, mustve been ten years ago.
Whats the difference? Family is family. Anyway, shes in trouble. She and her husband and son are being kicked out of their flatthe landlords are selling up. Can you imagine?
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Outside the window, the London afternoon faded into a grey December, and the coffee in my mug cooled as steadily as my patience.
Mum, Im sorry for her, but what does it have to do with me?
Wellyour flats huge, Oliver. Three bedrooms, and you live there all by yourself! They just need a place to stay. Temporarily. A month or two, until they find
No.
It slipped out before I could check myself.
No?! Mum was taken aback by my bluntness. You havent even heard me out!
Mum, Im not going to let people I barely know move in. Especially with a kid. Especially for God knows how long.
Its not God knows! I said temporary! A couple of months, tops. Sophies husband has a job. Theyll save up for a deposit and move on. Ollie, their boy is eight. Hell be on the street if you dont help.
They can rent a room. Or get a hostel. Or a cheap hotel. Something.
With what money? Theyre skint! Theyre being turfed out with nothing! Dont you get it?
Thats not my problem.
Suddenly, Mum started crying. Quietly, with shaky breathsnot dramatic, just sad. I closed my eyes.
I dont recognise you, she whispered. My sons turned cold. Distant. Your own family is in trouble and you dont care.
Theyre not my family. Theyre yours.
If theyre mine, theyre yours. Or have you forgotten what family means? Forgotten how to help your own?
Mum, I work from home. I need quiet. I need my own space. I cant live with strangers.
Its only for a bit! For goodness sake, what does it matter? Three bedrooms! Three! And youre on your own like a hermit. Not even a cat. At least then the flat would do some good
It does do me good. I live there.
Selfish, Mum sniffed. Raised a selfish son, didnt I? Never thought my own kid would deny family a roof over their head.
Im not denying them bread. Im saying no to strangers in my home.
The same arguments, round and round. Mum pleaded; I repeated my answers. After nearly an hour, I caught myself agreeing to think about ittwice. And eventually, maybe it wouldnt hurt to try.
One month, I said at last. Max two. If anything goes wrong, theyll have to leave straight away.
Of course, of course! Ollie, thank you, love! Youve no idea how grateful I am!
Nausea welled up inside, of the sort you get when you know youve just made a huge mistake.
* * *
The next morning the bell rang at seven. Half asleep and grumpy, I opened the door to a deluge of suitcases, holdalls, boxes, and a screaming child.
Ollie! Youre a star! Sophie burst in and kissed me on the cheek. Thank you-thank you-thank you! Youve saved us!
Her husband, a hulking bloke in trackies, and an eight-year-old boy stormed in behind herthe lad immediately tearing around to explore.
Alex, bring the big bag in! Sophie hollered.
I counted seven suitcases, four boxes, and two giant plastic crates. For a couple of months, it was impressively excessive.
Well settle in quickly, Sophie assured me. You wont even notice us.
* * *
The first two weeks were manageable chaos. I hid in my room, tried to work while the telly blared from the lounge and the kid thundered down the hallway. I kept telling myself: its only temporary, no big deal.
Then Sophie rearranged my kitchen because its easier this way. Alex claimed the balcony for a chill spot. Max broke the bathroom door handle and no one fixed it.
Sophie, I caught her in the kitchen, We need a chat. Youve been here nearly a month. Hows the flat-hunting going?
Were looking, were looking, she said, barely glancing up from her phone. Everythings so expensive, you wouldnt believe. But well find something soon, honestly.
I need actual dates.
She gave me a looksomething subtle had changed in her face.
Ollie, where are we supposed to go? On the street? With a child?
Im not saying the street, Im just
Were looking! she raised her voice, What more do you want? Want us sleeping at the station?
Alex came in.
Is there a problem?
I looked at both of themtheir faces no longer grateful, no longer embarrassed.
No, I said. No problem.
And left.
* * *
Problems did exist, of course. Every day multiplied them. Alex hogged the bathroom precisely when I needed to get ready for calls with clients. Sophie shifted my food to the bottom shelf of the fridge, putting theirs on top because its easier. Max discovered how to blast cartoons at full volume at seven oclock on weekend mornings.
My work suffered, snatching whatever quiet moments I could. I fell asleep to the background drone of the TV in the lounge and woke to thumpingthe usual, Alex dropping something in the hall.
One day I came home from Sainsburys to find my desk strewn with Maxs toys. Sophie sat in my chair, scrolling on her phone.
Oh, youre back, she said, not budging. Any chance of faster WiFi? Yours is rubbish.
Thats my office.
So? Max has nowhere to play. His rooms tiny.
I gathered the toys up and dumped them in the corridor. Sophie snorted, but said nothing.
Then the utility bill came. The amount had doubled. I put the invoice on the kitchen table when everyone sat down for tea.
We need to talk about costs.
Alex chewed, eyes fixed on his plate. Sophie cut up a sausage.
What costs?
Utilities. There are three of you, one of me. Its only fair we split them.
Sophie put down her fork.
Are you serious, Ollie? Were family. You want money off us?
Id like us to share expenses. Its normal.
Normal? Alex finally looked at me. Normals helping your family. Not squeezing money out of people in a tight spot.
Youve stayed for two months. For free. Used my internet. Im not even talking about rentjust bills.
Tell you what, Sophie stood up, If youre that stingy with a few quid, just say. Dont act like a saint.
I watched them leave the kitchen; watched Max grab the last slice of bread; watched Alex mutter, Miser.
I sat there until midnight. Thinking. Recalling Mums sermon about family duty. Counting every pound spent on these uninvited guests. Wondering how much longer Id last.
The next morning, I walked into the lounge, where Sophie and Alex lounged by the telly.
Youve got one week.
Sophie didnt turn around.
What?
One week to find somewhere else and move out.
Now they both looked at me.
Are you mad? Alex shot up. Where do you expect us to go?
Thats not my concern. I gave you two months. No searching, no paying, no respect for my space. Im finished.
And who do you think you are? Sophie leapt up too. Big shot, just because youve got a flat? Queen of the castle?
Im the owner. And I want you gone.
Does your mum know how you treat family? Alex stepped forward. Should I call her?
Go on.
Sophie grabbed her phone. I didnt flinch. If she called, let Mum rage, let her plead and blame meId made up my mind.
A week, I repeated. If youre still here after seven days, Ill call the police.
Sophie sputtered in fury. How dare you! We helped you! You
You didnt help me. You lived off me. Theres a big difference.
I turned and locked myself in my room. Sitting on the bed, arms wrapped around my knees, heartbeat thundering. Yet oddly, I felt calm.
That final week was hell. Sophie left her mess everywhere, Alex accidentally broke the shelf in the hallway, and Max scribbled on the wallpaper. I documented everything on my phone.
On the seventh day, they moved out. Alex grumbling his way down the stairs with the suitcases. Sophie paused at the door.
Hope it all comes back round to you! Karma and that!
I closed the door behind them.
I wandered through the flat, cleaning up their remnants. Threw open all the windows, aired out the smell from the balcony. Moved the kitchen furniture back to where it belonged.
By evening, my flat felt like home again.
I poured myself a glass of wine and flopped onto the sofa. My phone was silentMum, I guessed, was still recovering from Sophies complaints. Shed survive.
Kindness is a virtue. But kindness without boundaries turns into weakness. And people exploit weakness.
I swore to myselfnever again. No more family obligation. No more temporary stays. No strangers living in my home.
I finished my wine, washed up the glass, and went to bedfor the first time in months, in absolute peace.
