We Didn’t Let Our Daughter Cross the Threshold — But why didn’t you let her in? — Veronica finally asked the question that had haunted her for days. — You always used to let her in before… Her mother gave a bitter smile. — Because I worry about you, Nicky. You think we don’t see how you shrink into a corner whenever your sister barges in in the middle of the night? How you hide your textbooks so she won’t ruin them? She’s angry just by looking at you — angry because you’re normal. You’ve still got a life ahead of you. She long ago drowned hers in a bottle… Veronica hunched over her open textbook, frozen — another row was starting in the next room. Dad hadn’t even taken off his coat. He stood in the hall, clutching his mobile and shouting. — Don’t you give me your excuses! — he roared down the line. — Where’s it all gone? Two weeks since payday! Two weeks, Larissa! Tanya peeked out from the kitchen. She listened for a minute to the tirade, then asked, — Again? Valerian just waved her off and switched on speakerphone — sobs instantly crackled from the phone’s tiny speaker. Larissa, Veronica’s older sister, had a natural gift for wringing pity out of stone. But after so many years of torment, the parents had grown a tough skin. — What do you mean, “he’s thrown you out”? — Valerian began pacing the narrow hallway. — Good! Someone finally had it with your constant state of ‘uselessness’? How many times have you looked in the mirror? You’re thirty, but you’ve got the face of a battered dog. Veronica cracked the door to her room a few centimetres. — Dad, please… — The sobs abruptly cut off. — He’s dumped all my things in the stairwell. I’ve nowhere to go. It’s cold, it’s raining… Let me stay for a couple of days. I just need to sleep. Mum lunged to grab the phone, but Valerian jerked away. — No! — he said sharply. — You’re not coming in here. We both agreed after you pawned the telly last time while we were at the cottage — this door is closed to you! — Mum! Mum, tell him! — the voice wailed. Tanya covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking. — Larissa, how could you… — she whispered, not looking up at her husband. — We took you to see the doctor. You promised. They said the last treatment would last three years. It barely lasted a month! — Those treatments are a scam! — Larissa snapped, instantly switching from pleading to angry. — They’re just after your money! I’m not well! I’m burning up inside, I can’t breathe! And you’re moaning about the telly… like he actually cares! I’ll buy you a new one! — With what? — Valerian stared at the wall. — With what, when you’ve frittered everything away? Borrowed again from those mates of yours? Or nicked something out of that boyfriend’s flat? — Doesn’t matter! — Larissa shouted back. — Dad, I’ve got nowhere! What, you want me to sleep under a bridge? — Go to the council shelter. Or anywhere else — you’re not coming here. I’ll change the locks if I see you near the house. Veronica hugged her knees on her bed. Usually, when Larissa’s dramas pushed their parents beyond breaking point, their anger ricocheted onto her. — What are you doing sitting there? On your phone again? You’re going to turn out just as useless as your sister! — for three years she’d heard those lines. But tonight, they forgot her. No one shouted, no one complained. Dad hung up, finally took off his coat, and the parents retreated to the kitchen. Veronica crept into the hallway. — Val, you can’t be like this, — Mum pleaded. — She’ll end up on the street. You know what she’s like when she’s… like that. She can’t control herself. — And am I supposed to control her? — Dad banged the kettle on the stove. — I’m fifty-five, Tanya. I just want to come home and sit in my chair. I don’t want to hide my wallet under my pillow! I’m sick of complaints from neighbours who find her in the stairwell with dodgy friends, giving them abuse! — She’s our daughter, — Mum said quietly. — She was a daughter till she was twenty. Now she just drains us dry. She’s a lush, Tanya. It can’t be cured if she doesn’t want it. But she doesn’t. She likes it this way. Wake up, find a bottle, drink herself into oblivion! The phone rang again. Silence, then Dad’s voice. — What is it? — Dad… — Larissa again. — I’m at the station. The police are here, they’ll grab me if I stay… Please… — Listen, — Dad interrupted. — You’re not coming home. Full stop. — What, want me to kill myself? Is that what you want? Want a call from the morgue? Veronica froze. That was Larissa’s trump card, always pulled when everything else failed. It used to work. Mum would cry, Dad would clutch his chest, and her sister would get money, a bed, food, a scrub-down. But tonight Dad didn’t bite. — Don’t threaten, — he said. — You love yourself too much for that. Here’s what we’ll do. — What? — Hope flickered in Larissa’s voice. — I’ll find you a bedsit. Cheapest in town, on the edge. I’ll pay one month’s rent. Give you food money. Then you’re on your own. Find a job, stop messing around, and you can live. Otherwise, you’re on the street — and I won’t care. — A ROOM? Not even a flat? Dad, I can’t do this alone. I’m scared. And the neighbours might be dodgy. And how am I supposed to cope, I’ve not even got any bedding, he kept it all! — Your mother’ll pack bedding and leave it at the front desk. You come and collect it. Don’t come up — you’re not allowed. — You monsters! — Larissa shrieked again. — Your own daughter, shoved out into a dump! You’re sitting all comfy in your three-bed while I have to scurry around like a rat? Mum snapped and grabbed the phone. — Larissa, enough! — she yelled, making Veronica jump. — Dad’s right! This is your only chance. Bedsit or the street. Choose now, tomorrow even that’s off the table! Silence from the other end. — Fine, — Larissa grumbled. — Send me the address. And put some money on the card — I’m starving. — No money, — Valerian said firmly. — I’ll buy food and leave it in the bag. I know exactly what kind of ‘food’ you’ll spend cash on. He ended the call. Veronica decided it was time. She crept into the kitchen, pretending she just wanted a drink. She braced herself for an avalanche of irritability. Dad would look at her T-shirt and comment on her messy appearance. Mum would snap that she didn’t care about anything — with so many problems, she just wandered about the house. But they didn’t look up. — Veronica, — Mum called quietly. — Yes, Mum? — There are old sheets and pillowcases in the top of the cupboard. Put them in that blue bag in the closet, would you? — Of course, Mum. Veronica found the bag and emptied out the junk. She couldn’t imagine how Larissa was meant to live alone. She couldn’t even cook pasta. Her habit… Veronica knew her sister wouldn’t last two days without a drink. She brought the linen to her parents’ room and started packing. — Don’t forget towels! — Dad shouted from the kitchen. — Already in! — She replied. She watched as Dad put on his shoes and left without a word, probably to find that “dump”. She went into the kitchen. Mum hadn’t moved. — Mum, do you want a pill? — Veronica asked softly. Mum raised her eyes. — You know, Nick… — her voice was dull — When she was little, I thought: when she grows up, she’ll be my helper. We’ll chat about everything. Now all I want is for her not to forget the address. Just to get there safely… — She’ll manage, — Veronica perched on a seat. — She always does. — Not this time, — Mum shook her head. — There’s nothing left in her eyes now. Just emptiness, like she’s a shell that needs constant topping up with… poison. I can see how scared she makes you… Veronica went quiet. She’d always thought her parents didn’t notice her fear, too busy saving “lost” Larissa. — I thought you didn’t care about me, — she whispered. Mum stroked her hair. — We do care. We just have no strength left. You know how on planes they tell you — put your own oxygen mask on first, then your child’s? We tried Larissa’s mask for ten years. Ten years, Nick! Clinics, treatments, everything. And in the end… we nearly suffocated. There was a ring in the hall. Veronica flinched. — Is it her? — she asked fearfully. — No, Dad has the keys. It’ll be the groceries — he ordered some things. Veronica went to get the door. The deliveryman handed her two heavy bags. She brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking. Rice, tins, oil, tea, sugar. The bare basics. — She won’t eat this, — Veronica said, putting the buckwheat aside. — She likes ready meals. — If she wants to live, she’ll learn to cook, — Mum said, with a sudden firmness. — No more babying her. We’ll kill her with kindness at this rate. An hour later, Dad came back, looking utterly exhausted. — Found a place, — he said, tight-lipped. — Keys are with me. Landlady’s strict, ex-teacher. She said if there’s so much as a whiff or noise — out, no argument. I told her: “Please, chuck her out right away if needed.” — Val… — sighed Mum. — What, Val? No point lying to people. She should know. He grabbed the bag of linen and food and headed out. — I’ll drop these with the concierge. I’ll call her and say where to pick it up. Veronica, lock up. And don’t answer the home phone if she calls. He left. Mum locked herself in the kitchen and broke down in tears. Veronica’s heart ached. How could it come to this? She’s not even living, just existing from one drink to the next, making life hell for her parents… *** Their hopes didn’t pan out — a week later, Valerian got a call from the landlady: she’d had Larissa chucked out with the police. Larissa had brought three men and partied all night. Again, the parents couldn’t abandon their daughter — Larissa was sent to a residential rehab centre. Closed, tightly supervised — a year’s treatment promised to finally cure the drunkard. Maybe, at last, a miracle will happen…

Refused Her at the Door

Why didnt you let her in this time? asked Rebecca, unable to keep in the question that had been torturing her all day. You always used to before

Her mother gave a bitter, sad sort of smile.

Because Im scared for you, Becca. Do you think we havent noticed how you flinch when your sister barges in during the night? How you hide your textbooks so she wont ruin them? She looks at you and it makes her furious. Shes angry that youre normal, that you might have the life shes thrown away at the bottom of a bottle.

Rebecca hunched over her open book, barely breathing, as yet another row started in the next room.

Her father hadnt even taken off his coat; he stood in the hallway, clutching his mobile and shouting down the line.

Dont try and spin me tales! he barked. Wheres all your money gone? Its only two weeks after payday, Jane! Two weeks!

Rebeccas mum, Patricia, poked her head out of the kitchen, listening for a moment before sighing and asking quietly: Again?

Stephen simply waved his hand and put the call on speaker. Instantly, wailing came blaring out.

Jane, Rebeccas older sister, had an uncanny gift for getting sympathy, enough to wring tears from a stone.

But her parents, battered by years of pain, had built up hard shells.

What dyou mean, hes thrown you out? Stephen began to pace up and down the cramped hallway. Serves you right. Whod put up with you like that, night after night? Dyou even look at yourself lately? Youre thirty years old, Jane. Face like a whipped dog.

Rebecca cracked her door open a few inches.

Dad, please the sobbing stopped abruptly. Hes chucked all my things into the stairwell. Ive got nowhere to go. Its raining, its freezing Cant I come home for just a couple of days, just to sleep it off?

Patricia moved towards the phone, but Stephen turned away sharply.

No! he snapped. Youre not setting foot here. We made an agreement after you pawned the telly while we were away at the cottageafter that, the doors closed for you!

Mum! Mum, please, talk to Dad! Janes voice screamed through the speaker.

Patricia covered her face with her hands and started shaking.

Oh, Jane how did it come to this? she whispered to no one in particular, tears squeezed between her fingers. We took you to the doctor. You promised youd try. They said the last round of treatment would work for at least three years.

You didnt even last a month! Stephens voice shook with anger.

All those treatmentsrubbish! Jane snapped, her voice turning sharp and defensive in an instant. They just want your money! Dont you see? I cant breathe, Im burning inside, and all you care about is your stupid TV. If it means that much, Ill buy you a new one!

With what? Stephen stopped pacing and glared at the wall. What money? Youve squandered everything. Borrowed off your so-called mates again, or sold off something from that boyfriends flat?

It doesnt matter! Jane yelled back. Dad, Ive got nowhere to go! Do you want me sleeping under a bridge?

Go to a shelter, go wherever you like, his voice was suddenly calm in a way that made Rebeccas skin crawl. Youre not coming back. If you turn up at the door, Ill change the locks.

Rebecca, perched on her bed clutching her knees, went still. Usually at moments like this, when Jane had worked their parents up to white heat, all the frustration would bounce onto her.

Well, what are you sitting there for? On your phone again? Youll end up just like your sisteruseless! That was the kind of thing shed been hearing for three years now.

But tonight, it was as if she didnt exist.

No shouting, no blame. Her father hung up, finally took off his coat, and he and Patricia shuffled away to the kitchen.

Rebecca crept into the hall.

Steve, we cant do this, her mother wailed. Shell be lost for good. You know what shes like, when shes like that. She cant help herself

And should I help her instead? Im fifty-five, Pat. All I want is to come home and sit in a chair. I dont want to hide my wallet under my pillow. I dont want to get earfuls from the neighbours about her hanging round the stairwell with a bunch of rough types and mouthing off at them.

Shes our daughter, Patricia said quietly.

She was a daughter until she was twenty. Now shes just something sucking us dry. Shes a drunk, Pat. You cant fix someone who doesnt want help. And she never wanted to. She likes living this waywake up, find a drink, knock it back, then nothing

The phone rang again. Everything went silent for a moment before Stephen answered.

Yes?

Dad Janes voice again. Im sitting at the station. Theres police everywhere. Theyll pick me up if I stay here. Please

Listen carefully, Jane, Stephen cut her off. You are not coming home. Thats final.

You want me to end it, then? Janes voice rose, full of challenge. Is that what you want, so they call you from the morgue?

Rebecca froze. Jane always played this card when nothing else worked.

It used to do the trick. Patricia would break down sobbing, Stephen would press a hand to his heart, and Jane would be sent money, let in, fed, tidied up.

But not tonight. Her father wouldnt be manipulated.

Dont threaten us, he said. You care too much about yourself. Heres what will happen. Ill find you a roomthe cheapest I can, out on the edge of town. Ill pay the first months rent. Ill send a bit for food and thats it. From then on, youre on your own. Find a job, sort yourself out, and keep going. If you dont, in a month youll be back on the street, and I wont care.

A room? Just a room, not a proper flat? Dad, I cant do it. Im scared. What if the neighbours are dodgy? And what am I supposed to live withhe walked off with all my things, not even left me a pillowcase!

Mumll pack some bed linens and towels in a bag. Well leave it with the concierge. Pick it up yourself. Dont try coming upstairs, I wont have it.

Youre brutes! Jane screamed. Your own daughter, packed off to the slums like a rat!

Unable to take it anymore, Patricia grabbed the phone.

Jane, enough! she shouted so sharply Rebecca jumped. Your dad is right. This is your only chanceeither the room or the street. Decide now, because tomorrow even the room will be gone!

Silence.

Fine, came Janes sullen mutter. Text me the address. And send me something, please. Im starving.

No money, Stephen shot back. Ill buy the food and leave it with your things. I know what youd spend the cash on.

He hung up.

Rebecca figured now was the time. She slipped quietly into the kitchen, pretending just to get a drink. She braced herself to be snapped atDad criticising her t-shirt, Mum accusing her of not caring while they had all this going on.

But neither even glanced up.

Rebecca, her mother said softly.

Yes, Mum?

Theres some old sheets and pillowcases on the top shelf in the wardrobe. Could you get them, love, and put them in that blue holdall from the cupboard?

Alright, Mum.

Rebecca headed off to do as she was told. She shook bits and bobs out of the old bag. She couldnt fathom how Jane was supposed to live aloneshe could barely boil pasta, her habits were hopeless.

Rebecca knew Jane wouldnt last two days without a drink.

Back in her parents room, Rebecca climbed on a stool and fetched the linen.

Dont forget the towels! called Stephen from the kitchen.

Already in! Rebecca replied.

She watched as her father came into the hallway, pulled on his shoes, and left, saying nothing. Off, presumably, to find some dingy bedsit.

Rebecca went back to the kitchen where her mother was still hunched in the same seat.

Mum, do you want a tablet? Rebecca asked quietly.

Patricia raised her head, eyes hollow.

When she was little, Becca her mother began in a dull, flat voice, I used to imagine, when she grew up, shed be my right-hand, someone to talk to about everything. Now I sit here thinking, I just hope she doesnt forget that address, I just hope she finds her way

She will, Rebecca perched on a chair edge. She always lands on her feet.

Not this time, Patricia shook her head. Theres nothing behind her eyes anymore. Shes just an empty shell, only alive for whatever foul stuff she drinks.

Rebecca went quiet. Shed always thought her parents never noticed how scared she was, too caught up in the struggle to rescue lost cause Jane.

I always thought you didnt care about me, she whispered.

Her mother reached over and gently stroked her hair.

We do care. Its just weve got nothing left. You know, like on an aeroplanethey say, put your own mask on before your childs? Weve spent ten years trying to save her firstdoctors, priests, expensive clinics, you name it. In the end, we nearly suffocated ourselves.

There was a ring at the door. Rebecca flinched.

Is that her? she asked, voice trembling.

No, your dads got the keys. Thatll be the food deliveryhe ordered some.

Rebecca opened the front door to a delivery man with two heavy bags. She carried them to the kitchen and started to unpackrice, tins, oil, tea, sugar, the bare minimum.

She wont even eat this, Rebecca pointed out, setting aside a pack of porridge oats. Shes only ever wanted ready meals.

If shes got any sense, shell cook, said Patricia sharply, a hint of old firmness appearing for a moment. Weve spoiled her long enoughitll be our undoing at this rate.

An hour later, Stephen returned, looking like hed just finished a twelve-hour shift.

Found the place, he grunted. Keys are here. The landladys as strict as they comeretired teacher. She said, any trouble, any noise, shell throw Jane out straightaway. I told her she ought to.

Oh, Steve Patricia sighed.

What? No more covering for her. Shed better have the truth.

He grabbed the bag of linens, picked up the shopping, and turned for the door.

Ill leave these with the concierge. Ill call Jane and let her know. Rebecca, lock up tight behind me, and dont answer the landline if it rings.

He left, and Patricia locked herself in the kitchen and began to sob.

Rebeccas heart ached. How did it come to this? Jane neither lived, nor let anyone else have a life; just drifted from one binge to the next

***

Her parents hopes were dasheda week later, Stephen got a call from the landlady saying the tenant had been thrown out with the polices help. Jane had dragged three men into the room and partied all night.

Again, Patricia and Stephen couldnt ignore their daughter. Jane ended up sent to a rehabilitation centrestrict, locked, and supposedly offering a year-long treatment.

Perhapsjust perhapstheres a chance for a miracle still.