“I will not be a servant to strangers, no matter their name,” she thought. “I am no ones maid, not even for family.”
That evening, after a weary day at the chemists, she dragged her feet into the lift, dreaming only of a hot bath, a soft nightdress, and a quiet cup of tea. Yet before she could even change, her husband, Thomas, called out. His voice, calm and unbothered, announced:
“Get ready, Eleanorweve guests tonight. My sister, Harriet, is coming to stay for a few days!”
A hollowness opened inside her. It was no request, no discussionjust a fact. Her time was no longer her own. She was stunned. Which Harriet? Why had no one told her? Ah, yeshis younger sister, whom she had never met nor exchanged a word with. All she knew were a few storiesa country girl from near York, still in sixth form, sensible and resourceful, as one must be on a farm. But hearing of someone is one thing; having them appear unannounced in your home is quite another.
Thomas, as if nothing were amiss, was already chatting with her in the kitchen when she arrived. They were drinking tea, and Harriet seemed perfectly at ease, as though she belonged there. After supper, she began wandering the flat with poorly concealed curiositystepping into each room as if it were a museum, lingering especially in their bedroom, which plainly pleased her. She even snapped a few pictures, spread out Eleanors cosmetics, and tried on some of her jewellery. Eleanor stood frozen.
“Harriet, excuse me, but this is my private space. You walked in without asking and touched my things. I dont like that,” she said, calm but firm.
Harriet ducked her head, feigning innocence.
“I didnt know itd bother you I only wanted to see how you lived.”
Eleanor said nothing and went to bathe. When she readied for bed, she found not a single tea bag leftthey had drunk them all. No tea, no peace, and above all, no understanding. Before sleep, Thomas added:
“Perhaps you could think of what we might do with Harriet this weekend. Shell be dreadfully bored on her own!”
She swallowed a sigh. Why should she alter her plans for a girl shed only just met? She had meant to spend the day shopping, lunching, and walking with her dearest friend, whom she hadnt seen in nearly a year. Now? Cancel everything for a teenager not even her own mother had troubled to accompany?
The next morning, as she still pondered breakfast, Harriet was already made up, in a bedazzled pair of jeans, phone in hand by the door.
“Well, shall we go? I fancied the shopping centre, then perhaps a restaurant?”
Eleanor looked at her and replied evenly:
“Listen, Harriet. Youve a phone with GPS. Heres a spare keygo where you like. But please, dont disturb me.”
“What?!” Harriet gaped. “I thought you and Thomas would come with me. Ive no moneyMum didnt give me any, I was counting on you”
“We can walk about without spending. And if youre hungry, you know where the fridge is.”
Silence. Harriet slumped at the kitchen table, sulking. Eleanor gathered her things and left for the shops. Simply because she refused to feel a stranger in her own home.
By evening, the whole family had descended. Too late, she understood it was a collective inquest: why had she wounded poor Harriet? Why refuse her money? Why was she so selfish? No one let her speak. They shouted over each other. Harriet, in the next room, played the martyr, the victim of Eleanors supposed cruelty.
She listened, then said:
“I am no servant. I owe no one anything. Harriet is nothing to me. I did not invite her. My wages scarcely cover my own needs. If you care so much for your niece, sort it out amongst yourselves.”
Thomas stayed silent. Only late that night, once everyone had gone, did he murmur:
“Youre right I didnt want to quarrel with them.”
The end. She was not selfish. She was merely a woman who demanded respect. And if anyone thought “family” meant free labour and servitude, let them first look in the mirror and ask if they had the right to invade anothers life uninvited.
