My niece turned up at my flat in Manchester, but she got cross that I wasnt feeding her. I live in a different city from my sister shes down in Liverpool and her daughter, Imogen, dreams of going to university here. Shell be staying in a halls of residence, but shes popped over for a couple of weeks to sort out some paperwork and perhaps a few exams. I havent bothered with the nittygritty of the enrolment process; I just know that showing up before starting a degree is perfectly normal. My sister has agreed that Imogen can crash on my sofa for the spell.
We never discussed who would foot the bill for meals. If her mum keeps quiet about it, they sort it out between themselves. I walk into the lounge to find Imogen looking annoyed. I ask whats the matter, and she says shed assumed Id treat her to a warm lunch. I snapped back, Im not going to keep feeding you, and Im on my own schedule. Ive got to dash now! Call your mum and ask her to transfer some money onto your bank card, then pop down to the shop for a packet of biscuits, some rolls, and a cuppa tea. By the way, buy the tea yourself Ive run out. Youre 18 now, love, not a little kid.
Her mother, Helen, hasnt spoken to me in ages; she doesnt know that once the kids flew the nest, my husband vanished for a job abroad and I threw myself into work. My timetable is a nightmare, so Im hardly ever home, and Ive lost the energy for any domestic chores. A proper nights sleep would be a miracle.
Im not about to sacrifice anything for a guest. Its lovely to see Imogen shes grown up, more ladylike now but Im not the freewheeling Aunt Lucy I once was, the one who could whip up a feast without a second thought. Let her buy her own groceries, slice, boil, fry, or steam whatever she likes. Better yet, she could pick up something readymade so she doesnt risk wrecking my stove or my flat.
Shes sulked, calmed down a bit, and now stews in silence each day, probably expecting a full board and motherly pampering. Maybe things will settle. Its hard to switch off being the everhelpful and convenient aunt after years of keeping the peace with everyone in the family. Even now Im still a bit diplomatic: Ive offered a free place to stay, albeit without the fullservice element. Ive seen a therapist to learn how to explain gently and kindly that Im not as functional as I used to be they should expect a bit less from me now.
