**Diary Entry**
I should have seen it coming. The moment James said, Youll be cooking for my sisters family too, in that tonelike it was a royal decreeI knew things were about to go terribly wrong.
I stood by the window, watching a cramped white van pull into our driveway. My chest tightened. For days, James had been skulking around with that guilty look, like a man preparing to drop bad news.
Liz, hed started cautiously the night before, remember how I mentioned Emilys flat issues?
Of course I remembered. His sister had rented a two-bed in Croydon for yearsher, her husband Mark, and their two kids, ten-year-old Oliver and six-year-old Poppy. The place was fine, the landlord fair, but the landlords daughter was getting married and needed the flat back.
Theyve asked to stay with us for a bit, James had said, eyes fixed on his shoes. Just until they find something
Id nodded. What could I say? Emily was his only sister. You dont turn family away.
How long? was all Id asked.
A fortnight, three weeks max, hed said quickly. Marks already got an estate agent on it.
Now, watching suitcases, bikes, and a cat carrier being unloaded, I knew a fortnight was optimistic.
The kids barrelled in firstOliver with a football under his arm, Poppy dragging a giant teddy, chattering excitedly. The adults followedEmily with the cat, Mark with the luggage, James with boxes.
Liz! Emily beamed, stepping inside. Thank you so much for having us. Well be out of your hair soon, promise
I hugged her, genuinely sympathetic. Emily was kind but hopelessly disorganised. Married young, kids straight after uniher world revolved around them. She freelanced in graphic design, but Mark still made most of the decisions.
Mum, where do we sleep? Poppy asked immediately.
Our two-bed terrace was cosy but small. The master bedroom was ours, the second room a lounge with a sofa bed, the kitchen barely big enough for two. Perfect for usnot for six.
Well take the sofa bed, Emily said. The kids can sleep on air mattresses in the lounge.
Already sorted, James added.
What about Muffin? Poppy piped up.
The cat stays in the hall, Mark decided. Plenty of space for a litter tray.
Within hours, our home felt like a student house share. The lounge was overrun with toys, the hallway lined with suitcases, the air thick with unfamiliar smellsother peoples lives crowding out mine.
The worst part? How easily theyd made themselves at home. As if my space was now communal property.
Liz, where do you keep the loo roll? Emily called from the bathroom.
Under the sink.
Mind if I borrow a towel? We didnt bring enough.
Go ahead.
By evening, it was clear our old routine was gone. The kids played tag, the cat yowled, the adults debated house-hunting strategies.
Well check that agency in Clapham tomorrow, Mark said. Nice woman there.
Nothing too pricey, Emily sighed. Budgets tight.
Well find something, James said confidently. Worst case, you stay a bit longer.
I shot him a look. *Longer?* He avoided my eyes.
Right, Ill make dinner, I said, retreating to the kitchen.
I stared into the fridge, mentally adjusting portions. Normally, I shopped for two. Now? Six mouths to feed, including kids who ate like horses.
Whats for dinner? Oliver asked, peering in.
Not sure yet.
Mum usually makes spaghetti bolognese, Poppy announced.
Were out of mince, I said, checking the freezer.
For six, I had a chicken, pasta, some veg, and leftovers. Would it stretch?
Liz, dont stress, Emily said, breezing in. Well eat anything.
Might not be enough.
Well pop to Tesco tomorrow.
I nodded, chopping the chicken. Something told me that we meant *me*.
Dinner was meagre. Chicken and pasta for six isnt the same as for two. The kids devoured theirs; the adults pretended they werent still hungry.
Lovely, thanks, Emily said.
Brilliant, Mark echoed.
After, I cleaned up aloneeveryone else was busy settling the kids.
All right? James asked, joining me.
Fine, I said tightly.
Theyll find a place soon.
Sure.
He caught my tone but let it go.
At half six the next morning, I was woken by shrieks and thundering feet.
Quiet! Emily hissed. Auntie Liz is still asleep.
Too late.
The kitchen was a bombsitedirty dishes everywhere. Someone had made a midnight snack.
Morning! Emily chirped. Id have washed up, but I didnt know where things go.
Ill do it, I muttered.
Breakfast was a military operation. James gulped coffee before work, Mark rushed out, Emily fed the kids, and I juggled toast and cereal.
Liz, any Weetabix left? Emily asked.
Think so.
Yoghurt?
One.
Poppy, have cereal, Emily said.
I want yoghurt like at home!
Theres only one, love, I explained.
Then Ollie cant have it!
Oi, I want it too!
Enough! Emily snapped. Cereal. End of.
By the time the men left and the kids were parked in front of *Peppa Pig*, I felt like Id run a marathon. And it was only day one.
Emily, dont you work? I asked.
From home. Ill log on now. The kidsll be quiet with telly.
I nodded, escaping to the bedroommy last sanctuary.
But peace didnt last.
Auntie Liz! Poppy knocked. Can I have juice?
I fetched it.
Twenty minutes later:
Auntie Liz, I need the loo!
Half an hour after that:
Mum says can we use the washing machine?
By lunch, I couldnt focus. The kids demanded attention, the cat yowled, Emily yakked on Zoom.
Liz, whats for lunch? Emily asked at one.
Dunno. What do you normally have?
Oh, well sort something. Got potatoes?
A few.
Chicken?
In the freezer.
Perfect, well do roast chicken.
She said well, but sat back on the sofa with her laptop.
You cooking? I clarified.
Oh! Yeah, sorryjust need to finish this. Maybe you start, and Ill take over?
I bit my tongue and headed to the kitchen.
By evening, I was done. Over the day, Id cooked, cleaned, pacified the cat, and played referee. My own work? Forgotten.
When the men returned, the air was thick.
Hows it been? James asked.
Peachy, I said flatly.
At dinner, Mark updated us:
Saw two places today. Ones a rip-off, the others a dump. More viewings tomorrow.
No rush, James said. Plenty of space here.
I glared. *Plenty?* In a two-bed with six people?
We wont outstay our welcome, Emily said weakly.
Course not, James said. Stay as long as you need.
After dinner, I cornered James in the kitchen.
We need to talk.
About?
This isnt working. The kids are loud, I cant work, Im cooking and cleaning for an army
Liz, its temporary. Shes my sister.
I get that. But why am I doing *everything*?
Who else? Emilys with the kids, were at work.
*I* work too!
From home, though
That doesnt mean Im free labour!
He sighed. Fine. Ill talk to Emily. Shell help more.
And Mark.
And Mark.
But the next day, nothing changed. Emily was too busy, Mark had meetings, and I was back in the trenches.
By day three, I snapped.
Right, I announced at dinner. Were splitting chores. Rotas. Starting now.
Absolutely, Emily agreed.
Ill cook tomorrow, Mark offered.
Brilliant. And we take turns cleaning.
But the next morning, Emily had a deadline, Mark left early, and guess who was back on duty?
That evening, James dropped the bomb.
Forgot to mentionOllie and Poppy start school and nursery tomorrow. So breakfast needs to be earlier.
Right.
And packed lunches.
Uh-huh.
Emily says theyre out of clean clothes. Maybe do a wash?
Maybe *she* can?
She doesnt know how our machine works.
She can learn.
He hesitated, then added:
And with more of us, youll need to cook bigger portions.
I turned slowly.
What?
Well, theyll be eating here full-time now
And?
Youll be cooking for my sisters family too, he said, like it was a given.
I put the knife down. Very calmly.
Say that again.
What?
What you just said. About me cooking.
He paled. Too late to backpedal.
I mean naturally, youll cook since theres more of us
Naturally, I repeated.
I took off my apron, hung it up, and walked out.
Liz, where are you going?
Bedroom.
What about dinner?
You said Ill cook. So I will. When I choose to.
I locked the door, hands shaking. Two weeks of thisplaying maid while everyone else lived their lives. And my husband couldnt even see the problem.
I yanked out a suitcase and started packing *his* things. Neatly, methodically.
Then I carried it into the lounge, where they were all watching *EastEnders*.
Sorry to interrupt, I said, plonking it down. New plan.
They stared.
Ive packed Jamess things. Youre all going to his mums in Kent. Big house. Plenty of space.
Liz, what? Emily spluttered.
Its simple. Im not running a B&B. At your mums, you can figure out how to share chores *fairly*.
This is mad, James said.
No, mad is expecting me to wait on six people without complaint.
Silence.
Liz, Emily tried, if you feel were taking advantage
*Feel?* For two weeks, Ive cooked, cleaned, and babysat. And tonight, I was *informed*not askedthat this is my new role.
They all looked at James.
I didnt mean it like that, he mumbled.
Then how *did* you mean it?
He had no answer.
Exactly. So off you pop. When youve worked out a fair rota, you can come back.
An hour later, they were packed into the car. No one spoke.
At his mums, she took one look at us and raised an eyebrow.
To what do I owe the pleasure?
Were staying a bit, James said awkwardly.
All of you?
Just until we sort things out, I said.
She eyed James. Ah. I see.
I helped unload, then turned to leave.
Liz, James caught my arm. Lets go home and talk.
No. You wanted me to be your live-in chef? Fine. But on *my* terms. Meanwhile, draft a chore rotasigned by all.
The next day, I slept in. Made coffee. Worked in peace.
That evening, James called.
Weve talked. Youre right. We took the piss.
And?
We made a schedule. Want me to read it?
Bring it tomorrow.
They returned, shamefaced.
Liz, were sorry, Emily said.
Proper bellends, Mark admitted.
James handed me the rota. Breakfasts, lunches, dinnersall shared. Dishes, cleaning, laundryrotated. Kids? *Their* responsibility.
Looks fair, I said. But words are cheap.
Well stick to it, Emily promised.
And they did. Mostly. There were slip-upsEmily forgetting to cook, Mark missing the dishes. But now, I held them to it.
A month later, they found a flat.
Funny thing, Emily said before leaving. This chaos was a blessing.
How?
At home, Mark never lifted a finger. Now? He cooks. The kids tidy. Were *all* pulling weight.
On moving day, James hugged me.
Im sorry. About that night. About the way I spoke.
Water under the bridge.
Actually maybe we should make a rota for us too?
I smiled. Not a bad idea.
After they left, James asked:
Regret being so hard on them?
No. If I hadnt, Id still be your unpaid skivvy.
He nodded. Lesson learned.
And it was. Six months later, at Emilys birthday, she bragged:
Ollie cleans his room now! Mark makes a cracking cottage pie!
All thanks to you, Mark laughed. That boot camp of yours.
James grinned. Never seen a suitcase packed so fast.
I smiled. Sometimes, youve got to shake things up.
Because families arent dictatorships. Theyre partnerships. And no one*no one*gets to say, Youll cook for everyone, like
