What are you on about, music school? Her mother threw the colourful leaflet Annie had brought home from school onto the kitchen table with a thud. Absolutely not. Dont even think about it.
Annie stood frozen in the doorway, clutching her rucksack to her chest. Her throat swelled with emotionshe couldnt speak, couldnt swallow.
Mum, I just
She wants, she wants, her mother mimicked in a stinging tone. You dont understand a thing, Annie. Youll be going to study accounting. Its a fine profession, a decent one. Youll never be short of money.
Her father sat quietly at the table, saying nothing, but Annie knew silence meant agreement with her mother. It always did.
Dad, she tried, turning to him with a glimmer of hope. Dad, you said yourself Ive got talent.
He looked up briefly, met his wifes eyes, and then stared down stubbornly at his plate.
Your mother is right, Annie. Music isnt a career. Its just a hobby, really.
The hot sting of tears rose, burning and angry. Annie wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her school jumper, smudging both tears and pride.
There she goes again, crying, her mother sighed, lips pursed tight. Look at Laura, your cousin. An accountant, you know. And whats so bad about that, eh? Got her own flat, good husband, living decently. Do you want to spend your life strumming your guitar in bus shelters?”
Laura. Always Laura. Aunt Sarahs darling and Mums favourite niece. Laura the golden standard. Laura with a mortgage at twenty-five and Annie, who, according to her mother, couldnt even do the washing up properly.
I dont want to be like Laura, Annie whispered. I want to make music.
Thats enough, her father pushed his plate aside and rose heavily from the table. Its settled. Youll do economics at university and thats final. Your mum and I wont steer you wrong.
Annie stared at both of themher mother, ever frowning, her father retreating, washing his hands of the conversation. They stood together, unyielding, and Annie realised she had nothingno money, no say, just a dream theyd crushed flat on the kitchen floor, right along with the colourful leaflet.
She nodded, wordless, scooped the wrinkled pages from the tiles, smoothed them just to toss them in the rubbish…
…Five years at university blurred into a grey smear. Annie trudged through lectures, memorised accounts, slogged through exams. Nothing inspired her; nothing truly made sense. Debits, credits, endless ledgerseverything pressed in, heavy, suffocating.
At graduation, her mother beamed like shed won a prize. She snapped photos of Annie by the university pillars, rang Aunt Sarah to boast.
Has she got a job lined up, then? her aunt chirped over the phone. Annies mother smiled triumphantly.
Yes, sorted already! A solid company wants her. Mark my words, our Annie will go far.
Our Annie. As if Annie was a family investment, not her own person.
Annies first day at work went exactly as shed feared: a tiny, windowless office, humming monitors, piles of paperwork, the bitter stench of instant coffee. Her colleaguestwo women in their fortiesgossiped about supermarket deals and someones messy divorce.
She stared at spreadsheets for eight hours, the numbers swimming and blurring into nothing. By evening, her head throbbed and she ached to cry.
Her first pay arrived on the twenty-eighth. Annie checked the figure on her phone, counted up in her head. Just enough. If she took a box-room on the outskirts, scrimped on food, didnt buy anything extrajust enough.
That night, Annie quietly packed her old suitcase. Her mother entered as Annie zipped it up.
What on earth are you doing?
Im moving out.
Her mum just stared, uncomprehending, before her face bloomed red with anger.
Moving out? Have you gone mad?
No, Annie replied, hefting the case. Ive made up my mind.
And what about a flat? Or a car? Your father and I had it all planned! Save up for a deposit, get a mortgage, get married
That was your plan, said Annie, brushing past her into the hallway. But this is my life. Not yours.
Her father intervened.
Annie, dont be daft. Where will you go?
Anywhere, she replied.
She opened the front door, stepped over the threshold, and the door snapped shut behind hera draught ending an era.
The suitcase thudded against her legs as she clambered down the steps. A dog barked somewhere below, the radio blared from abovea perfectly ordinary evening in a perfectly ordinary street. Annie breathed in the sharp, evening air and marched towards the bus stop. Her wages in her pocket, her life in a suitcasea blank, unpredictable page lay before her.
…For months after, calls and messages never ceased. Her mothers texts swung between threats and pleading, novel-length. Her dad rang in the dark as Annie returned to her cramped, rented room.
Come home, he’d sigh. Please. Were family.
Annie listened, shaking her head though he couldnt see.
No, Dad. I cant come home.
Well then youre not our daughter, pronounced her mother, snatching the phone. Do you hear me? Forget where we live. Weve no daughter anymore.
The line went dead. Annie stared at the screen, set the phone on the windowsill, and sat silently in the dark, watching the strange new city lights flicker outside. No tears, no painjust an empty ring beneath her ribs that slowly faded.
…Ten years flew by. Annie shuffled through three flats, five jobs, endless nights hunched over sheet music and sound software. She taught herself, in snatched hours after work while the city slept. She took any jobpennies for adverts, soundtracks for student short films, anything at all. Step by step, she fought her way through.
Now her name rolled in the credits of three feature films and two hit drama series on national TV. Her home studio filled a whole room in her airy flat. A wedding band glinted on her finger, shining for the past three months.
Ben entered just as Annie was finishing a new track, setting a mug of steaming coffee beside her keyboard.
Someones buzzing downstairs, he said, kissing her hair. Are we expecting anyone?
The buzzer rang again, sharp and insistentsomeone certain she was home.
Annie pulled off her headphones and went to the intercom. The grainy screen revealed two older figuresa woman with an old-fashioned coat, a man in a worn jacket. Annie recognised her parents instantly, aged by ten hard years. Her mother slouched, hair now silver; her father padded and tired.
She pressed the speak button.
What do you want?
Annie, love, open up, please. Her mother leaned towards the lens.
Annie didnt move. Ben rested a hand on her shoulder.
Are those your parents? he asked softly.
She nodded, then pressed the button again.
How did you get our address?
Through friendsLaura saw something online about your wedding, they said the area, and then…
I see.
Annie cut her off and stared at the screen. Her parents shuffled in silenceten years, not a single word, no calls, no letters, not even checking if she was alive. Now here they were, fidgeting, peering at a monitor.
Ill go down, she said to Ben. Wait here.
On the ground floor landing, Annie steadied herself at the door, then opened it, blocking their entry with her stance.
Annie! her mother exclaimed, hands to her face. Youre so beautiful! Were so proud! The wedding was stunning, we saw the photosyour husbands so handsome, from a good family
Why are you here?
Her mother faltered, glanced at her father. He cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets.
Were your parents, Annie, he began gruffly. Whats past is past. Youve landed on your feet now; you could help out.
Help out?
He shrugged. The house needs repairthe bathrooms a mess. Thought maybe a holiday sometime, by the seanow youre settled with your husband, all that
Her mother tugged his sleeve, whispering crossly, but he waved her off.
Whats wrong with asking? Shes our daughter. She ought to help.
Annie leaned against the frame, arms folded, lips quirking into a cold smile.
Ought to, is it? She spoke slowly. Thats rich. For ten years you had no daughterforget our address, all that. And now, now Ive made something of myself, you want to remember were family?
We only wanted you to see sense, to come home, her mother babbled. We just wanted whats best
Whats best, Annie echoed. You know, I achieved everything because I chased what I dreamed of. I didnt become an accountant, like you wanted. I havent spent my life drowning in numbers, stuck in an airless office. I did it my way, and this is where it brought me.
She gestured to the bright lobby behind her.
So what do you actually want from me? Money for the bathroom? A holiday? After ten years of silence you show up and ask?
Enough now, her father snapped. Why drag all that up?
Im not dragging up the past. Im stating facts. You cut me out when I refused to live your way. Now that my life turned out better than you planned, you want back in? Thats convenient.
Her mother sniffed, eyes glossy with tears.
But were your parents, Annie. We loved you, raised you
Do you want whats best? Annie interrupted, her voice hard. Then leave. Forget me. Forget this place. Carry on as you did when you said you had no daughter.
She stepped back and pulled the door gently shut. Her father made to follow, but she stopped him with a look.
Annie
Goodbye.
The door clicked softly behind them.
Annie went back upstairs to her flat. Ben was waiting, concern colouring his face.
All okay?
Yes, she breathed, collapsing into his embrace, forehead on his shoulder. Now it is.
He held her close, stroking her back, asking nothing further. And Annie realisedit wasnt about being better than Laura, her cousin, in a flat or a marriage or a career. She had all that now. But that wasnt the point. Not at all.
Shed spent ten years clawing her way herefalling, rising, working until her head spun. But now, at last, she was truly happy. Full to the brim, electrified with joy. And that mattered more than anything her family had ever planned for her.
