These arent my childrenhelp your sister if you like, but not at my expense. She tore her own family apart, then decided to foist her children on us while she rebuilt her life elsewhere.
What a lovely home you two have made, Harry. Im quite envious, really.
Felicity ran her finger along the edge of the tablecloth, her glance gliding over the kitchen as if she were an auctioneer weighing up a rare antique. Bridget set the big salad bowl on the table and sat across from her husband. Harry grinned at his sister, oblivious to the way Bridget clutched her napkin in her fist.
We put some work in. Searched for months for somewhere decent.
Theyd sold the flat and moved here, to York, closer to Harrys family. Their own little patch, a proper veg plot, silence but for the blackbirdsBridget had dreamed of this for three years. Now, two months on, the dream was beginning to take shape.
Couldnt hold my family together, though, sighed Felicity, staring morosely at her plate. Its been three months, but its all a haze. I wake at night, no one there. The kids ask where their dad is. What am I supposed to say?
Dame Pamela, at the head of the table, reached over to pat her daughters hand. The gesture seemed to float through the air, as if underwater.
Itll come right, my dear. Main thing is the children are fit and well. And that rascal will be sorry he legged it, just wait.
Little Charlie, four years old, slid from his chair and pelted off to the lounge. A moment later there was a crashsomething had tumbled from a shelf.
Charlie, careful! Felicity call out, making no move to fetch him.
Rosie, just turned three, began to whimper in Felicitys lap. Felicity jiggled her absent-mindedly on one knee, continuing the conversation.
Its good, youre near now. Mums barely up and about since her opno one else to help.
Could hardly get here myself, Dame Pamela chipped in, rubbing her knee distractedly. Fourth floor, no lift, blood pressure all over the place. Id barely got upstairs before I thought Id keel over. Cant look after grandkids in that state.
Bridget stood, heading to fetch the main course. On the windowsill the seed trays, tiny green tomato plants curling bravely from compost. Another month and theyd go in the ground. Her first tomatoes, ever.
I hope its all right if I leave the kids now and then? Felicitys voice caught Bridget beside the hob, thin and echoing. Just in emergencies. Seldom. Ive got to start work, go to doctors, meet the solicitor about the divorce. Where else can I put them?
Bridget looked back. Felicity was gazing at her brother, eyes huge with helplessnessa look Bridget now recognised all too well. Twenty-seven and she played the same old tune.
Harry nodded, sympathy painted across his face.
Course, Liss. Well help you out, wont we, Bridge?
All eyes swung to herthree pairs, expecting, requiring the right answer.
Of course, Bridget said. Whenever you really need.
Felicity beamed.
Saviours! I genuinely wont be longcouple of hours, tops.
It was gone eleven when they left. Harry had called a cab for his motherhe helped her off the steps, her grumbles echoing with every painful tread. Felicity loaded two sleepy children in her battered Ford and waved, calling Youre the best! from the window as she drifted away.
Bridget cleared the table, stacking plates in the sink. Harry hugged her from behind, kissing her hair.
See? What a cracking evening. Mums pleased, Felicitys cheered up. Moving here was right.
She shrugged.
Bit tired, thats all.
She kept to herself the nagging feelingthe little phrase, in emergencies, rarely, only when I must, echoing in her mind. Bridget knew well how this turned into every day, because its easier.
A week later, Felicity rang early.
Bridge, can you help? Got to see the GP, urgent, and Mum cant take the kids. Just three hours, Ill be back by lunch.
Bridget glanced at her laptop. Quarterly report, open and urgent. The client expected it by Friday.
Liss, Ive got a deadline
Theyre so quiet, honestly. Pop the telly on, theyll amuse themselves. Please, Bridge, Im desperate.
Thirty minutes later, she was looking after both children. Lunch came and wentno sign of Felicity. Evening slipped quietly in.
At six, Harry came through the door, glanced at the lounge to see the children in front of the TV.
Felicity not back yet?
No. Promised to collect by lunchtime. Said she was running late.
No big deal. Harry shrugged, pulling a beer from the fridge. Its family, love. They can stay a bit.
Bridget said nothing. By then, Charlie had spilt juice on the rug, Rosies spare nappies had run outthered only been one in their little backpack.
Felicity breezed in at nearly nine, cheeks flushed, coffee-scented, smiling.
Sorry! Everything was such a whirlwind. Thank you, honestly!
Bridget finished the report at three in the morning, her head foggy, childrens shrieks echoing in her mind.
Four days later, there she was again: job interview, really important. Children dropped off at nine. Harry, home after a night shift, woke around noon and shuffled into the kitchen.
Theyre still here?
Looks like.
Fair enough, he poured himself tea and set up the telly. Dont stress, Ive got it.
But mostly, he watched football, leaving Bridget to shuttle between the laptop and the children. Charlie approached his uncle twiceWill you play with me?but Harry hardly looked up: Later, mate, match on.
Felicity reappeared at eight in the evening.
By the end of week three, it was routine: threesometimes fourtimes a week. Doctors, solicitors, interviews, friends to catch up with. The couple of hours was always an entire day.
One late night, after the children finally left, Bridget sat opposite her husband.
Harry, I cant do this anymore.
What do you mean?
Three times a week. I cant get my work done.
He scowled.
Bridge, shes in a tough spot. Husbands gone, two little ones. Thats family.
I get it. But she promises to come by lunch and its always late evening. This isnt help, its
What?
She wanted to say cheek, taking advantage. But looking at his face, she swallowed the words.
Mum rang today, Harry went on. Said Felicity needs space. Shes young, her worlds fallen apart. Im her brother, I have to help.
And what about me?
Youre my wife, he said, as if it were obvious. Were one family.
Bridget turned to the window. Dusk had fallen. On the sill, the seedlings were long and thin, aching to be replanted. Tomorrow, shed do itshed promised herself.
But arguing was pointless.
On Friday, Harry came home from work and called out as he came through the door:
Felicity rang. Asked if wed watch the kids tomorrow. Shes off to another interview, and her cars acting upwants to get it checked.
Bridget closed her laptop, looking at Harry.
Harry, weve talked about this. I cant spend every weekend like this.
Oh, do be reasonable, he threw his jacket on a chair and went to the fridge. Shes my sister. Whats the big deal? Youre at home anyway.
Im not just at home. I work here, too. It matters.
Get some work done while the kids watch cartoons. No drama.
Bridget stopped herself, seeing his facetired, prickly. Tomorrow was Saturday. Shed planned on replanting the seedlingsthey were ready.
All right, she murmured. Let her bring them.
Felicity arrived just before eleven. She was decked out in a new dress, hair set, makeup as if for a party not a job interview.
Youre absolute lifesavers! Felicity pushed Charlie and Rosie through the door. Ill collect them by five, six at the latest.
Their bag? Bridget called.
Ohstill in the car, be right back!
She returned a minute later, shoving the half-empty backpack into Bridgets arms.
Spare clothes, nappiesbye now, Im late!
Felicity vanished. Harry was in the garage fiddling with his car.
By one, Charlie was bored and was racing about the house, Rosie whining for food, water, cuddles. Bridget was splitting herself between child and kitchen, trying to conjure up lunch.
At two, Harry poked his head in.
Hows it going?
Fine, Bridget said, wiping her hands. Will you watch them? I need to get those seedlings planted before its too late.
Just a ticklet me wash up.
She slipped outside, lined up the pots, readied the trowel, and squatted by the border. She was making little holes when a crash thundered from indoors, followed by wailing.
She ran back.
In the lounge: Harry slumped on the sofa, phone in hand. In the middle of the floor, Charlie eyed her, surrounded by shards of a broken clay pot, compost everywhere, tomato seedlings trampledthose same delicate plants shed nursed for weeks.
What happened?
He climbed onto the sill, Harry muttered, eyes on his phone. Couldnt stop him.
Bridget stared at the messthe tiny green plants flattened and wasted. Shed tended them daily, now just a mass of crushed stems and earth.
Auntie Bridgeare you cross? Charlie looked up, frightened.
No, she replied, kneeling, picking up shards. Go to Uncle Harry.
Harry finally looked up.
Its only tomatoes, love. Plant some more.
She said nothing. To her, it wasnt just tomatoes. It was the life shed wanted, forgotten, yet again, for someone elses children.
Felicity didnt appear at five. At six, she texted: Just a bit longer. At sevensilence. Bridget calledno answer.
At eight, a car purred outside. Bridget looked out: a glossy black Land Rover at the gate, not from any mechanics. The passenger door swung openFelicity, flushed, giggling, teetering on heels. Driving, a man in his forties, all leather jacket and aftershave.
Ta, Alan! she waved. Catch you later!
He pulled away and Felicity turned to the porch, noticing Bridget at the door.
Ohhello! Sorry, last minute. Ran into an old mate after the interview, he gave me a lift.
Bridget caught a scentwine and sweet cocktails, maybe both. No interview. No car. Felicity had dumped her kids and gone out to play.
How was the interview? Bridget asked evenly.
Hmm? Oh, fine. Theyll let me know.
And the garage?
Felicity faltered, but only for a heartbeat.
Booked for next week. Big waiting list.
A bald-faced lie.
Actually, Felicity began, glancing at her phone, could you do Wednesday? Another interview.
No.
The word came out flat, final. Felicity looked up sharply.
What?
I cant do Wednesday.
But why? Youre at home
Im not just at home. I work here. Ive plans of my own.
Felicitys brow twisted, lips trembling, eyes slick with tears.
Bridget, you know how hard this is. Alone with two kidsI thought you and Harry had my back. Youre all Ive got. And you wont even help for a single day
I have helped. Three weeks nonstop. But Im not a nanny. Or a nursery.
Whats wrong with you? Felicitys voice iced over. So you watched them. Theyre not strangers!
Theyre not mine. Bridget was surprised how calm she sounded. Theyre your children, Felicity. Your charge.
Harry appeared in the doorway. Hed caught the end, and his face was dark.
Whats happening?
Felicity turned, her voice wavering in that familiar way.
Harryyour wifes refusing to help. Just one day Im asking, and she
She sniffed, pressing her hand to her chest. You all know my situation. I thought family looked after each other. Apparently not
She cut herself off, waved her hand, and stomped to the car. At the porch she turned back.
You ought to be kinder, Bridget. Kinder.
She sat outside, refusing to look at anyone, phone glued to her ear. When her cab arrived, she scooped up two sleeping children and left, not a word more.
Bridget stood on the step, something sour gnawing insideguilt or shame; was she too harsh?
Harry watched the car disappear and turned to his wife.
Did you have to be like that?
How?
She was just asking. And you He trailed off and walked inside.
It was quiet for a week. Then Harry came home and called out from the hall.
Felicity rang. Another big interview. Could you, just this once? Ill have words if she drags it out again.
Bridget gazed at him, tired and lost, caught between sister and wife.
All right. One last time.
Next morning, Felicity flew in, kissed the children, and darted out.
Thanks, thanks, Im late!
Bridget, halfway through sorting lunch, pulled up her phone. Her feed rolled onthere was Felicity: new photos in a café, laughing among friends, a mans arm slung across her shoulders. The caption read: Reunion with old school friends! How Ive missed a normal life.
Posted twenty minutes ago.
Bridget stared at her phoneeverything slotted mercilessly into place. No interviews, no appointments. Felicity simply dropped the children off to buy herself a good time. As for her ex-husbandperhaps he hadnt been such a cad after all. Maybe hed just had enough.
She rang Harry.
Come home. Look after your niece and nephew yourself.
Whats the matter? he stuttered. Im at work.
So get your mother round. Im done.
What on earths happened?
Have a look at your sisters social feed. Then lets talk.
A pause, then: Ill try leave early.
Harry got home two hours later. He looked at the sleeping kids, then at Bridget.
I saw the photo.
So?
Maybe it was just school friends
Harry, she comes back tipsy, always makes things up about doctors and jobs. Cant you see?
Theyre my niece and nephew, he said, voice rising. Theyve done nothing wrong.
And what about me? Anger tightened in Bridgets chest. Theyre not my children. Im not obliged. If you want to help her, you do itnot me.
Shes my sister!
She made her own mess, and now shes dumping her kids on us while she goes gallivanting.
Thats not fair
Its the truth. Every time, shes come home after drinking, spun a story. Im done. Are you?
Harry was silent, rubbing his eyes.
All right. I get it.
Felicity returned late, the children already sleeping under a blanket on the sofa. She crept in, starting some excuse about traffic and a dead phone, but Harry stopped her.
Felicity. Its over.
What do you mean?
Dumping the kids and vanishing all day. Were not childminders.
She looked between Harry and Bridget. Bravado flickered, recognition in her eyes.
Shes made you say that, hasnt she?
No. My choice.
A huff. She grabbed Charlie and Rosie and stomped out, the slam shivering every window pane.
The next morning, Harrys phone rang. Mum flashed on the screen.
He answered. Bridget could just make out the shrill voice through the speaker.
Whats this? Cant even help your sister? You know I cant manage
We cant, Mum. We have our own lives.
Well! Buy a house and lose your heart, is that it? I see how it is!
Dial tone. Harry put the phone down.
Shes upset.
I noticed.
They sat quietly. Sun shone in, the empty pot on the window ledge. Bridget stared at it. A month ago, shed come here for quiet, their own home, their own garden, their own life. Instead, they gained other peoples children and the debts of kin.
Harry put his hand over hers.
Sorry, Bridge. I shouldve stopped this sooner.
Bridget didnt answer, just squeezed his fingers. It wasnt a victory. Pamela was sulking, Felicity was furious, months of chilly silence ahead. But for the first time, Bridget felt, not exhaustion, but something like relief. Shed said no. And Harry had heard.
The rest could wait.
