My niece has turned up at my flat, but shes pouting because Im not feeding her.
I live in London while my sister is in Manchester. Her daughter, Ellie, hopes to get into the University of London, which is right here. Shell be staying in a hall of residence eventually, but for now shes come for a couple of weeks to sort out some paperwork either an exam or just the enrollment forms. I havent bothered with the details; I just know that showing up before starting university is normal. My sister has agreed that Ellie will lodge with me for a while.
We never talked about who should put food on the table. If her mother stays silent on the matter, they sort it out between themselves. I walk into the living room and find Ellie sitting glum. I ask whats wrong. She says she thought Id treat her to a hot lunch. I snap back, Im not going to feed you, and Im running on my own schedule. I have to dash now! Call your mum and ask her to transfer some money onto your card, then go buy some biscuits, a roll and have them with tea. And get tea too Ive run out! Come on, youre practically an adult, youre 18 now!
Her mum, Margaret, hasnt spoken to me in ages and doesnt know that since the kids flew the nest, my husband disappeared for whoknowswhere and I threw myself into work. My job has a brutal timetable, so Im only home irregularly and Ive lost the energy for domestic chores. A proper nights sleep would be a miracle.
Im not planning to sacrifice anything for a guest. Its lovely to see Ellie; shes grown up and become quite ladylike, but Im no longer the carefree, plucky Aunt Lydia who could whip up a feast in no time, never mind an elephant. Let her shop for groceries, chop, boil, fry or steam. Better yet, have her buy something readymade so she doesnt wreck the cooker or the flat.
Now shes sulking, quiet and angry each day, apparently expecting a fullboard stay with mum. Maybe things will settle down. Its hard to switch off the nice and helpful mode overnight after years of keeping peaceful relations with everyone around me. Even now Im still fairly amiable: Ive offered a free place to sleep, albeit without the fullservice element. Ive gone to a therapist for advice on how to gently explain to my family that Im no longer as functional as I used to be. They need to expect a little less from me.
