Hey love, you wont believe the drama that went down at the flat. So, Im Emma, right, and my sisterinlaw Charlotte just pinged me a photo from my own couch. Ive already moved into your place all settled, she wrote, smiling on that familiar green sofa we spent weeks picking out in a tiny shop in Notting Hill.
I was still standing by the fridge, holding the door like it might run off, when my mum Margaret, who was rummaging through the fridge, shouted, Did you forget the milk again?! I asked you this morning, you even called!
I tried to explain, Mum, I was swamped at work, my phone died, I just got it back! She snapped, Everything flies off you, Emma! How am I supposed to have coffee in the morning?
I huffed, Make it black or Ill dash out now! She rolled her eyes, Its nine already, shops are closed! I tossed my shoes, shuffled into the kitchen, and flopped onto a chair. My phone finally powered up after a dead battery at the office.
Messages started popping up ads, work chats, then a text from Charlotte. I opened it, eyes glazed over the picture of her stretched out on that exact green couch, the one Jack and I chose after driving half the city around for it.
My love, Ive already moved in. Look! she wrote.
I read it once, twice, three times. My heart dropped. I called out, Mum, did you hand the keys to anyone?
What keys? Margaret turned, puzzled.
Did you give the flats keys to?
To whose flat?
To ours! The one Jack and I share! she asked, eyebrows up.
No, of course not! Why would I? I said, staring at the phone. Charlotte on my couch? In my flat? How?
I typed back, Charlotte, whats going on? Which flat?
She replied instantly, The one on Saffron Street! Jack said you were fine with me staying at Mums for a while, so Im here. Perfect, isnt it?
I leapt up, grabbed my coat, and bolted for the door. Where are you going? Margaret blocked the entrance. Emma, whats happening?
Charlottes in our flat! Jack let her in!
Which Charlotte? The one whos always moaning?
The very one! I shouted, fleeing down the stairs, hands shaking as I hailed a taxi. The driver kept asking for the address, I kept shouting the street name, feeling like Id been waiting forever.
In the back seat I kept replaying Charlottes story the younger sister of Jack, a selfproclaimed perpetual unlucky one. Shed been through three marriages, bounced between jobs, always getting the boot. When I first met her, she was sweet, smiling, congratulating us on the wedding. Then the calls started: broken relationships, no money, nowhere to live. Jack kept bailing her out, giving cash, offering a couch. At first I thought we were being generous, but it became clear she was exploiting us.
Shed pop up once a month, stay for weeks, dump her stuff everywhere, turn the kitchen into a war zone, and babble on the phone for hours. Jack kept saying she was alone and needed help. The last time she stayed, I finally snapped, told Jack we needed our own space. He asked Charlotte to move out, she sulked for three months, then vanished.
Now here she is, uninvited, in my living room, munching crisps, watching telly.
Emma! Youre home! Jack told me youd be at Mums all month! she chirped.
All month?! My blood boiled. Charlotte, what the hell are you doing here?
Im living here. Jack gave me the okay. He said youd be at Mums. She shrugged.
I’m not okay with this! Wheres Jack?
Hes at work, on a shift. Hell be late. I rang him, no answer. Tried again, still nothing. I texted, Why did you let Charlotte into our flat?
His reply came a minute later, Emma, cant talk now, meeting. Ill explain later.
I told Charlotte, Pack up and leave. She snapped, Where am I supposed to go? My flats flooded, repairs will take months. Jack said I could stay here!
I never gave you permission! I shouted.
She shot back, I dont need yours. Jacks the owner, the lease is in his name!
I clenched my fists. Yeah, the lease was in Jacks name wed bought it before we married, hed put more cash in, and I trusted him. I told her, This is our flat too. I didnt agree to you living here.
Then why should I listen to you? Im his sister, Im family! Youre just the wife, and wives come and go! she snapped.
What?! I was stunned. You think youre the first? Jack dated Lucy before me, three years! She dumped him.
What does Lucy have to do with anything? Charlotte huffed. Jacks a flirt, youre just a temporary wife! Im his sister forever!
I could barely hear her over my own shaking voice. Enough. Youre out by tomorrow morning. She screamed, Im not moving! Jack said I could stay a month!
I slammed the door, went down to the landing, sat on the bench, my hands trembling, throat tight.
Jack finally got back an hour later, saw me standing there, and asked, Emma, whats going on?
Im waiting for you to explain why Charlotte is in our flat. He tried to calm me, Take it easy, love. Well sort it out.
I exploded, You let your sister move in without asking me! You told her Id be at Mums for a month. Where did you get that?
He muttered, You said Mum was alone, she needs visits I cut him off, Visiting, not moving in! This is my home too!
He tried to defend, Shes got nowhere else, the flat was flooded, I couldnt just turn her away. I cried, You should have asked me first!
He fell silent, then whispered, I didnt know shed do this I thought I was being kind. I said, Now Im forced to choose between you and my peace.
He looked defeated. Ill kick her out.
Can you? I asked, bitter. Youre staying with Mum, Im going back home! He tried to reason, She said Im just temporary, shes the permanent sister. I grabbed my bag, threw a final look at the green couch, and walked out.
I caught a taxi to Mums flat in Brighton. Margaret opened the door, gave me a hug, and sighed, I told you Jack was a bit of a mamas boy. I burst, I tried to be nice to Charlotte, helped her, and now she calls me a temporary wife!
She laughed, Shes a proper piece of work. Remember at the wedding she wouldnt let Jacks hand go? She was clingy as ever. I asked, What now?
Nothing. Stay here, let Jack sort his head out. I collapsed onto the old bedroom sofa, phone buzzing nonstop. Jack kept texting, calling, but I didnt answer.
The next morning Charlotte messaged, Emma, dont be mad! I baked a pie, come over! I blocked her number.
The week went by. I kept going to work, popping back to Mums. Jack called every day, begging me to return, promising to confront Charlotte. I stayed silent.
Then Lucy, my old university friend, called, Emma, why arent you at the flat?
I told her, I saw Charlotte on the balcony, waving, shouting about a housewarming. She laughed, A housewarming? In our flat?
I drove to Saffron Street, climbed the stairs, and opened the door. The flat was unrecognisable new curtains, rearranged furniture, Charlottes knickknacks everywhere.
Emma! Miss me? she cooed in a bathrobe. Got the place all cosy.
Charlotte, what are you doing? I snapped.
Just moving in! Jacks fine with it. She asked, Wheres Jack?
At work. Why?
I went into the bedroom, where her bedding was spread on our bed. You sleeping in our bed now?
She rolled her eyes, Where else? Im not a guest, Im a resident!
Im the resident! I shouted, pulling the sheets off. Jacks the owner, not you!
She pouted, You have no right to kick me out! The lease is in Jacks name! I clenched my fists, So is it mine. I didnt give you permission.
She retorted, I dont need yours! Jack said I could stay as long as I want! I yelled, No, youre out!
She turned pale, You cant evict me! The flat belongs to Jack!
I threw her stuff out of the room, This is my flat too! Get out!
She shouted, I wont leave! My place is being renovated, Ive got nowhere! I replied, Find a flat, get a job! She snapped, Maybe I will, maybe I wont! I grabbed my bag, said, Live here alone if you must, but Im never coming back.
I stormed out, slammed the door, and parked the car. Jack called that evening, Emma, Charlotte said you came in, you yelled at her. I told him, She moved all the furniture, slept in our bed! He shrugged, Shes just more comfortable I exploded, Comfortable? What about me?!
He begged, Come back, well talk. I snapped, No more talks. Either she leaves, or Im out for good. He fell silent.
A month later Charlotte was still there. Jack kept showing up, pleading, but I stayed firm. Then Helen, another mate, rang, Emma, can we meet? Need to talk about Charlotte.
We met at a café. She was serious, eyes tired. Emma, I have to tell you something. Charlotte staged the whole thing. She deliberately flooded her own flat, broke the pipe, just so shed have a reason to move in with Jack.
I was stunned. What?
She confessed to me. She was fed up being alone, wanted to be close to her brother, blamed you for stealing him after her divorce. Shes been plotting this for ages. Helen showed me screenshots of Charlotte bragging about the plan.
I thanked her, asked for the messages, and she sent them over. I showed Mum, who shook her head, I told you Jack was a bit of a mamas boy. I called Jack, Come over, urgently. He arrived half an hour later, pale, reading the screenshots.
Is this true? he asked, voice trembling.
Its real. She flooded her flat to force her way in, then pretended to be a victim. He sank into a chair, eyes wide. I didnt know
Now you do. He whispered, Im sorry, Emma. I was a fool.
I cant believe she used us both, I said, tears welling. What do we do?
Kick her out. Right now. He nodded, got up, and left to sort it.
I collapsed on the couch, exhausted. Later Jack returned, looking haggard. Did you evict her? I asked.
Yes. She cried, swore everything was a lie, but I showed her the messages. She admitted she hates me. He sighed, Im done with her, shes not my sister anymore.
I looked at him, heart softening a bit. Jack, you almost lost me.
He held my hand, Ill never do that again. I promise.
I said, Ill come back, but only if Charlotte never steps foot in our house again.
I swear. He promised.
A week later I moved back in. Jack had cleared out Charlottes things, put the furniture back where it belonged, and even freshened up the place. He apologized again, I was blind, sorry.
Its okay now, I said, smiling. Well get through this.
Charlotte kept calling for a month, but Jack didnt answer. Eventually she vanished, got a job, moved into her own flat. I ran into Lucy once, and we both laughed, What a nightmare. Jack added, She chose her path, we chose ours.
We never talk about Charlotte again. Were building our life, and that green sofa we fought over three months ago sits right where it always did just the two of us.
Take care, love. Talk soon.
