Kept Out at the Door
Why didnt you let her in? Emily dared to pose the question that haunted her most. You always used to let her in before
Her mother let out a bitter chuckle.
Because Im frightened for you, Em. You think we cant see how you cower in the corner whenever your sister crashes in the middle of the night? The way you tuck your schoolbooks away so she wont ruin them? She looks at you and gets angry, so angry just because youre normal.
Youve a different future ahead, while she drowned hers in gin years ago
Emily hunched over her open textbook, barely breathing. From the next room, the commotion began once again.
Her father hadnt even bothered to take off his coat he stood in the hallway gripping his mobile, shouting.
Dont you dare feed me your rubbish! he bellowed into the phone. Wheres it all gone, Sally? Two weeks since payday and youre skint? Two weeks, Sally!
Mum poked her head round from the kitchen. She listened to his tirade for a moment before asking, wearily,
Not again?
Malcolm just waved a hand, pressed speaker the room filled instantly with sobs.
Emilys older sister Sally was naturally skilled at wringing tears from stone.
But year after year of heartache had given their parents a coat of mail.
What dyou mean “hes thrown you out”? Malcolm paced the narrow hallway. Good for him.
Whod put up with your never-ending drunken stupor?
Have you even looked at yourself in the mirror?
Youre thirty, and you look like a dog thats had the boot put to it.
Emily creaked her door open, just a crack.
Dad, please Sallys weeping cut off as quickly as a snapped string. Hes put all my things out on the landing. Ive got nowhere. Nowhere to go.
Its raining, Im cold… Could I come over for a few days? Just to sleep.
Mum surged forwards, wanting to grab the phone, but Malcolm turned his back, fast.
No! he snapped. Youre not coming here.
Didnt we come to an agreement last time? After you pawned the telly while we were away at the cottage, we said you werent allowed through this door again!
Mum! Mum, say something! Sally howled.
Mum hid her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook.
Sally, oh… she managed, not looking at her husband. We took you to the doctor, you promised. The last treatment, they said, would last three years.
You didnt even make it a month!
Those treatments are a joke! Sallys tone turned sharp, her whining melted away. They just want your money!
I feel dreadful, cant breathe, its burning inside me!
And youre on about the telly… Hes more sad about the telly!
Ill buy you a new one!
With what? Malcolm halted, eyes fixed to a point on the wall. How, when youve blown everything?
Borrowed off your so-called mates again? Or nicked something from that blokes flat?
Doesnt matter! Sally yelled. Dad, Im homeless! What do you want me sleeping under Waterloo bridge?
Go to a shelter, wherever you like his voice went dreadfully quiet. Youre not coming in here.
Ill change the locks if I so much as see you on the step.
Emily sat on her bed, knees hugged tight.
Usually, when Sally drove her parents to the boil, their anger would bounce off her, too.
What are you playing at? On that phone again? Youll end up just like your wastrel sister! familiar words, repeated for years.
But tonight, theyd forgotten her.
No shouting, no blame. Dad hung up, took off his coat, and both retreated to the kitchen.
Emily tiptoed into the hall.
Mal, we cant just do this Mum moaned. Shell wind up lost, completely lost. You know what shes like, when shes like that.
She cant help herself.
And Im meant to help for her, am I? Dad clattered the kettle onto the hob. Im fifty-five, Tess. I want to come home and sit in my chair.
I dont want to stash my wallet under my pillow or hear the neighbours moaning shes been round again with some dodgy blokes shes been rude to!
Shes our daughter Mum whispered.
She was our daughter till she was twenty. Now shes something that bleeds us dry.
Shes an out-and-out alcoholic, Tessa. Nothing fixes it if they dont want to be fixed.
And she doesnt. She likes it. Wakes, hunts for booze, drinks herself stupid, and passes out!
The phone rang again.
For a moment, silence. Then Dad answered.
Yes?
Dad Sally again. Im at Victoria station. Police keep walking round, if I stay theyll nick me.
Please…
Listen Dad cut across her. Youre not coming home. End of discussion.
So what, you want me to top myself? Sallys voice was all threat. Is that it? Want a call from the mortuary?!
Emily froze. This was Sallys ace of spades, always played when she was desperate.
In the past, it worked. Mum would sob, Dad would double over, and Sally would be handed cash, allowed to crash, fed and washed.
But tonight, Dad didnt bite.
Dont scare me he said youre too fond of yourself for that. Listen. Heres the deal.
…What? Even Sally sounded hopefull.
Ill get you a room. The cheapest, at the edge of town. Ill pay for the first month, bring you a bit of food. Thats all. Then youre on your own.
Get a job, sort yourself out, youll manage.
If not in a month youre out, and I couldnt care less.
A room? Not a flat, Dad, I cant Im scared by myself.
What if those neighbours are dodgy?
And I’ve nothing for moving in! Not even bedding, he kept it all!
Mumll put together some sheets. Well leave it with the concierge. Come and fetch it. Dont come up, Ive told you.
Youre monsters! Sally shrieked. Your own daughter, sent off to a hovel! You sit in your three-bed, and you want me scuttling like a rat!
Mum couldnt bear it. She snatched the phone.
Sally, that’s enough! she screamed so loud Emily jumped. Listen to your father!
Its your one chance. Room or the street.
Choose because by tomorrow there wont even be a room.
Silence.
Fine Sally muttered. Text me the address. And send me some cash, now. Im starving.
No money Malcolm retorted. Ill buy groceries and send them in a bag. I know what sort of “food” youd spend it on.
He cut the call.
Emily decided that was her cue. She crept into the kitchen, pretending to want tea.
She braced, expecting her parents pent-up annoyance.
Dad would say she looked a slovenly mess, Mum would snap that she was as useless as her sister.
But they didnt even turn.
Emily Mum softly called.
Yes, Mum?
Theres old sheets and pillowcases at the very top of the wardrobe. Fetch them, and pack into that blue holdall from the cupboard.
Okay, Mum.
Emily found the bag, shook out all sorts of tat.
She couldnt wrap her mind around it: how would Sally live alone?
She couldn’t even make pasta. And her habit
Emily knew Sally couldnt last a day or two without drink.
She went to the parents room, climbed on a stool, and dragged out the bed linen.
Dont forget towels! Dad called from the kitchen.
Packed already Emily answered.
She saw Dad head for the hall, pull on his shoes, and leave without another word.
Off, she guessed, to hunt out that hovel.
Emily stepped into the kitchen. Mum was motionless, staring at nothing.
Mum, do you want a pill? Emily whispered, drawing closer.
Mum looked up.
You know, Em her voice sounded odd, thin and empty when she was little, I dreamed shed be my girl, my helper.
I thought wed gossip about everything and nothing.
Now I just hope she remembers the address for that room. Just gets there in one piece…
Shell get there Emily perched on a chair. She always manages, somehow.
Not this time Mum shook her head. Her eyes are wrong. Hollow. As if theres nothing left inside.
Just a shell forever hungry for that poison.
I can see youre scared of her
Emily fell silent. She’d always believed her parents didnt notice her fear, that they were too busy saving their lost cause Sally.
I thought you didnt care about me Emily whispered.
Mum reached out, stroked her hair.
We do. Were just worn down. You know, like on the plane?
Put your mask on first, then the childs.
We tried to save her for ten years. Ten years, Em.
We tried cures, folk healers, expensive clinics.
Look at us now we almost suffocated ourselves.
The buzzer rang in the hallway. Emily gave a start.
Is it her? she asked, scared.
No, Dads the only one with keys. Must be the delivery, he ordered groceries.
Emily went to the door. The delivery man handed her two heavy bags.
She carried them to the kitchen, began unpacking oats, tins, cooking oil, tea, sugar. Nothing extra.
She wont eat this Emily said, putting aside a bag of lentils. She only likes ready meals.
If she wants to live, shell learn to cook Mum cut in, old firmness flickering back. Pampering her will see her to her grave.
An hour later, Dad returned. He looked done in, like three shifts back to back.
Found one he muttered. Got the keys. Landladys a dragon, a retired headmistress.
She warned: stink the place out or cause a scene, and shell have her out on her ear.
Told her: Do it at once.
Oh Malcolm Mum sighed.
Whats to say? We can’t lie for her. She ought to know the truth.
He took the holdall and shopping bags for Sally, headed to the door.
Dropping these to the concierge. Ill ring her and say where to collect.
Em, lock the door up tight after me. If anyone rings the landline dont answer.
He left. Mum locked herself in the kitchen and sobbed.
Emilys heart shrivelled. Why? No real living, just shuffling from binge to binge and dragging everyone else into the shadows.
***
Their hopes crumbled a week later, the landlady called. Shed sent Sally packing, police and all.
Sally had dragged three men in and partied all night.
And still, Mum and Dad couldnt leave their daughter to it Sally was taken to a rehabilitation centre.
Private, all locked up they promised shed be sober in a year.
Maybe, in the drifting world where logic dissolves and time loops like a Möbius strip, a miracle will happen after allEmily came home from school, expecting another silent evening. But through the door, she heard laughterthin and shy, her mothers laugh, trying to remember how. On the wall by the kitchen, a calendar hung, paper crisp, squares ticked off. Mums neat script marked: Visit Sally. 2pm. Bring comic.
Sally phoned each Sunday from the centre. Her voice rasped, gentle as an old radio. The conversations were always shortsometimes about the weather, sometimes only sighsbut every time, Mum pressed the phone to her ear as if holding on to Sallys hand across an abyss.
The days turned slow and bright. Malcolm mowed the garden, whistled like he was younger. Emily found her schoolbooks safe, untouched on her shelf, and her mother spent afternoons beside her, correcting essays, brewing tea that actually tasted of tea.
One cloudless morning, a letter arrived, crooked handwriting on cheap lined paper. It was for Emily.
Em,
Im learning how to breathe again. They dont give wine gums or let us hide in the bathroom. Some days I still want to walk out. But I havent. If you want to visit, you can. Or not.
Im sorry I scared you, all those times.
Your big sis,
Sal
Emily sat at the window, her hands trembling, clutching that lettera fragile sign of hope, stubborn as spring in hard ground. Downstairs, Mum opened the back door, sunlight streaming in, calling her to lunch.
And, for the first time, Emily thought: maybejust maybeit was all right to open the door again.
