Many years ago, in the quiet lanes of Sussex, lived a woman named Katherine. One evening, as she settled into her armchair with a cup of tea, her mother-in-law, Margaret, rang with urgent news.
“Katherine, has Thomas told you yet?” Margarets voice crackled through the receiver. “Listentherell be nearly twenty guests. Well start cooking the evening before. Ill come round at six sharp.”
“Evening?” Katherine frowned. “No, I never agreed to that.”
“WaitI havent finished. Thomas has the shopping list already. He promised to fetch everything.”
Thomas had always doted on his elder sister, Beatrice. By thirty, shed married and divorced twicealways, according to Margaret, because the men were “utterly unsuitable.” Since childhood, Margaret had drilled into him, “Your sister needs your help.” And so Thomas helpedwith money when Beatrice was “between jobs,” with repairs in her rented flat, with hauling her belongings after each failed marriage.
Then he married Katherine.
At first, she endured it. But when Beatrice askedfor the fifth time that yearto borrow their car “just for a few days” because hers had “broken down again,” Katherine drew the line.
“Thomas,” she said gently but firmly, “dont you think enough is enough? We need the car this weekend. I thought we had plans.”
“Whats so important? Cant you manage without it?”
“No. My parents cottage isnt a stroll away. Theyve set aside two crates of vegetables for us. Did you even hear me when I mentioned it?”
“Well vaguely. But Beatrice is in a bind.”
“Again? What bind?”
“Not sure,” Thomas hedged. “But she needs it more.”
“No, Thomas. Not this time. Either you tell Beatrice no, or buy me my own car. Im tired of taking the bus while my husband chauffeurs everyone but me.”
For once, Thomas hesitated. He nearly rang Beatrice to refuseuntil Margaret swooped in. “Youd abandon your sister for your wife? She has no one but you!”
So Thomas helped, despite Katherines protests. Once, they didnt speak for days. Finally, he snapped, “Why the silence? Are you cross?”
“Brilliant deduction,” Katherine said dryly. “Three whole days to notice?”
“I dont even know why!”
“Truly? Your darling sister commandeered you all weekendnot just a lift, but two days at her friends country house. You didnt think to call?”
“You couldve rung me.”
“I did. Your phone was off. Imagine my worrywheres my husband? Off enjoying himself without me.”
“Dont be dramatic,” Thomas muttered, waving his ringing phone dismissively.
He slipped onto the balcony before answering. Katherine wouldnt appreciate another call from Beatrice.
“Hello, brother!” Beatrice trilled. “My birthdays in two weeks! Thirty! You grasp the significance?”
Thomas glanced warily at Katherine, now ladling soup. “What do you want?”
“You know me so well!” Beatrice laughed. “I want to celebrate at your place! Your sitting rooms spacious. My landlord would fuss, and a restaurants too dear.”
“What about a pub? Ill chip in.”
“Are you mad? Its my thirtieth! Why should I pay when youve a perfectly good home? And youll contribute anywayIm not some heiress.”
“Let me discuss it with Katherine first. Its her home too.”
“Too late!” Beatrice cut in. “Ive already told everyone its at yours. Clear the flat for the day, wont you? Mums handling the food.”
Thomas sighed, rubbing his temples. As he scrambled for an excuse, his phone buzzed againMargarets text:
“Beatrice sent the menu. Heres the shopping list. Tell Katherine to assist. She ought to help cook, too.”
Meanwhile, oblivious, Katherine curled up with her phone, ready to watch her favourite show. When Thomas shuffled in, eyes downcast, she knew instantly.
“What now?” she asked calmly, pausing the programme.
“Kath Beatrices birthday. Thirtys a milestone. She wants to celebrate.”
Katherine looked up. “Let her. Whos stopping her?”
Thomas scratched his neck. “Well she wants it here.”
“Here? In our flat?” Katherine stood. “And you agreed?”
“I said Id ask you first! But Beatrice has already invited everyone. Mums planning the menu”
Katherine shut her eyes, inhaling deeply. “Thomas. Are you a grown man, or just Beatrices messenger?”
“Dont start”
“Im starting?” She waved her phone. “No one even consulted me! This is my home, not your familys event space. Beatrice wants a party, Im expected to cook, and your mothers giving ordersall without asking!”
Just then, her phone rang.
“Ah, the cherry on top,” she hissed. “Your mother.”
“Katherine, has Thomas told you?” Margaret blustered. “Twenty guests! Well cook the night before. Ill arrive by six.”
“Evening?” Katherines smile was icy. “No, that wasnt the arrangement.”
“WaitThomas has the shopping list. Hell fetch everything.”
“Fine,” Katherine said tightly. “Whos paying?”
“Thomas promised to help,” Margaret said briskly.
“So youve turned my home into a banquet hall, and were footing the bill?” Katherines restraint snapped.
“Beatrice is family! Cant you spare one day? Chop some veg, make sandwichesyoure the lady of the house!”
“Margaret,” Katherine interrupted, “I just learned of this. I never consented to hosting Beatrices birthday.”
“Must you harp on my flat? Youre married! Everythings shared!”
“Really? If this were Thomass flat, youd sing a different tune. Then Id just be the freeloader.”
“Dont be absurd. Have the shopping done by Friday.” Margaret hung up.
“What was that?” Katherine asked, hearing the dial tone.
“Enough of the victim act!” Thomas finally erupted. “Youve been told youre wrong. Admit it and stop being difficult.”
Katherine stared. Then, wordlessly, she fetched a duffel bag from the wardrobe and began packing Thomass clothes.
Meanwhile, Thomas, triumphant, cracked open a beer and flopped before the telly, certain Katherine would soon call him to dinner.
Half an hour later, she stood in the hallway, his packed bag at her feet.
“Whats this?” he grunted. “Some theatrical stunt?”
Katherines gaze was glacial. “No theatre, Thomas. This is the end. I wont play servant in my own home or prop for your familys whims. Be a devoted son and brothermove back to your mothers. Im sure shell gladly host your sisters party.”
“Youre serious?” He stepped closer. “I wont come back.”
“Quite serious.” She nodded. “I dont want you back. Ive tolerated too much already. If three years havent taught you respect, nothing will.”
“Kathyou cant throw everything away in a moment!”
“Nothings left to throw.”
Thomas scoffed, still not grasping her resolve.
“Your shirts and trousers are here,” she added. “No need to thank me. Leave now.”
He sputtered, but Katherine opened the front door. His face flushed with rage.
“Youll regret this!” he spat, snatching the bag. “Youll come crawling back when no one elsell have you!”
Katherine smirked, stepping back. “Men like you are rare indeed. Thank heavens.”
“Youre nothing without me!”
“If nothing means living in my own home, working, and no longer enduring your familys demands, then Im content being nothing.”
Thomas stormed out. Katherine watched from the window as he kicked his bag into a taxis boot.
Months passed. The divorce was bitter. Thomas painted Katherine as greedy, especially over the car bought during their marriage.
“Your Honour, I paid for it entirely!” he insisted. “She never contributed a penny!”
Calmly, Katherine produced bank statements and receipts, even the deposit agreement bearing her signature.
“I dont seek his share,” she said. “But I wont surrender mine.”
The court ruled fairly.
Furious, Thomas returned to Margaretsnow sharing her cramped spare room. Worse, hed taken a loan to fund Beatrices belated restaurant party, having “let her down” over the flat.
Meanwhile, Katherine slept soundly for the first time in years. She was young still, she reasoned. Worthy men werent scarceif one knew where to look.
