Are you serious, Simon? Ellen shouted, her voice shaking as she leaned against the hallway wall. Tell me this is some stupid joke. I just walked through the front door after a 26hour shift, my legs feel like theyve run a marathon in steel boots, and youre telling me your nieces and nephews will be here in an hour?
Simon shifted nervously from foot to foot, tugging at the hem of his old cotton Tshirt. In his eyes flickered that familiar mix of panic and the desperate urge to please everyonea blend that constantly drove Ellen mad. She slipped off her work shoe, sighing with relief as her swollen foot hit the cool laminate. As the senior sister in the emergency surgery ward, she knew no shift was easy, but today had been a nightmare: three critical arrivals backtoback, hostile relatives, and a severe staff shortage.
Lennie, listen, Simon blurted, trying to help her peel off her coat but only getting in her way. Its not all day. Olivia needs to sort some paperwork for her carshe said its a matter of life and death, though she didnt explain much, and her voice was frantic. And theres Freddie and Oliver. The nursery is closed, the babysitter is ill. Theyre family, blood.
Ellen shambled into the kitchen, gulped a glass of water as if it were the most delicious thing on earth, and checked the clock: nineoclock on Saturday. Her only day offthe one day she could simply lie in bed, stare at the ceiling and enjoy silence.
Simon, she said quietly but firmly, Freddie is five, Oliver is four. Theyre like two little tornadoes that can wreck a flat in fifteen minutes. The last time we watched them for a couple of hours they smashed my favourite vase, doodled on the hallway wallpaper with markers, and fed the cat Baxter plasticine. I didnt sleep for two days after that, and then spent another two scrubbing the whole place. I cant endure that again. Physically I just cant.
But Ill help! Simon exclaimed, his cheeks flushing. Ill look after them. You just go to the bedroom, shut the door and rest. Well quietly play with the building blocks in the sittingroom. You wont even hear us.
Ellen gave a sour smile. Simons naïveté sometimes bordered on foolishness. He adored his sister and her kids with a blind devotion, ignoring the fact that Olivia had long since become a burden on their lives.
Quietly? Ellen scoffed. Their volume isnt adjustable. Theyll scream, run, bang things, demand cartoons, food, a bathroom. And Olivia? Did she say when shed be back?
She shell try to finish before evening, he stammered.
Evening?! Ellen slammed the glass onto the table, startling Simon. So Im supposed to spend my only day off in a childrenshome while your sister deals with urgent business? Did you even ask why her business had to fall on a Saturday? Why cant she just take the kids with her for some carpaperwork?
Lenn, theres a queue, its cramped, its hard on the kids Dont be selfish. Olivia is the only one pulling them, your husbands paying her token alimony. She needs help. I already promised.
You promised without asking me. In my house. On my day off.
A long, insistent knock echoed through the hallway, the kind that meant someone was desperate to get in. Simons face went pale and he sprinted to the door. Ellen stayed in the kitchen, a cold fury building inside. She recognized that knockOlivia always rang like a wolf chasing its prey.
From the hall came cheerful shrieks, tiny footfalls and Olivias highpitched voice.
Oh, Simon, you saviour! Hello! Wheres Lena? Sleeping? No worries, Ill get the kids dressed quietly. Boys, behave, listen to Uncle Simon!
Ellen took a deep breath, smoothed her hair and stepped into the corridor. The scene was a picturepostcard disaster: shoes scattered on the floor, jackets piled on a pouffe, and two rosycheeked brats dashing toward the sittingroom where a brandnew TV stood. Olivia, a brightblonde in a stylish coat, was fixing her makeup in the mirror.
Hey, Lena! she called, spotting her sisterinlaw. You look exhausted. You need eyepatches and a mask. Ive got an appointment at ten, cant be late.
Appointment? Ellen blocked her path. You told Simon you had car paperwork.
Olivia faltered for a heartbeat, then beamed, Right, the paperwork but first a manicure and lashes, then the council office, and maybe coffee with the girls later. Im a single mum, I deserve a life, dont I? You just sit at home, no kids, so you can practice. Kisskiss, Ill be out by eight!
She tried to slip past, but Ellen held her. A crash soundedthe floor lamp toppled. Simon shouted and bolted toward it.
Take the kids, Olivia, Ellen said in icecold tones.
What? Youre joking! Im already late! Olivias eyes widened.
I dont care. I just finished a shift. I want to sleep. I didnt sign up to be a free nanny while you get dressed. Simon promised without asking me. Thats his mistake, not my health.
You hate my children! Olivia shrieked, her face flushing red. Simon! Come here! Your wife is throwing the nieces out!
Simon rushed out, holding the broken lamp pieces. He looked pitiful.
Lenn, honestly Olivias already here Let them stay, Ill watch them, I swear! Ill hang a blanket over the bedroom door so you can hear nothing. Olivia, go well manage.
Olivia sneered, shot Ellen a murderous glance and fled, shouting, Their lunch is in the backpackjust chips, make them a proper soup!
The door slammed. Ellen stared at Simon, who stood amid shattered glass, then at the chaos seeping from the hallway: flour dusting the floor like a white trail to the kitchen, the scent of burnt food and lavender oil hanging heavy.
In the sittingroom, Freddie and Oliver were wrestling with Baxter, the orange tabby, who hissed and curled under a chair.
Are you really going to look after them? Ellen asked quietly.
Yes, love, Ill do everything. Just dont scold me. Go to bed. Ill put on cartoons, feed them, everything will be fine.
Ellen turned toward the bedroom, but not to lie down. She grabbed a small gym bag and, with swift, practiced motions, packed fresh underwear, jeans, a new Tshirt, a paperback, a phone charger, and a makeup case.
Lenn, where are you off to? Simon called from the doorway, clutching a struggling Freddie by the collar.
I’m going to rest, Simon. As I planned.
Another room?
No. Somewhere else.
She slipped into her jeans, shed her housecoat, and slung the bag over her shoulder. Fatigue roiled inside her, but anger gave her strength. She knew she wouldnt sleep here and listen to the screaming, waiting for something to break or for Simon to return with a plaintive question about where the pasta was.
You cant leave! Simon blurted, fear in his voice. What about me? I cant handle them alone! Two little monsters need soup!
You said you could. You said well play quietly. Play on. You wanted to be a good brother to Olivia? Be that. I just want to be a living person, not a workhorse.
Ellen marched to the hallway. Oliver was drawing on the mirror with his mums lipstick, and Simon lunged.
Dont! Oliver, no! Ellen shouted, but the door was already opening.
Ill be back tonight when theyre taken away, or tomorrow morning. Foods in the fridge, just needs cooking. Good luck, love. She stepped out onto the street, inhaling the crisp autumn air. Her hands trembled, but she felt a strange freedom. She had always smoothed edges, sacrificed herself for family peace. Today the cup finally overflowed.
She walked to the corner café, ordered a massive cappuccino and a croissant, and, perched by the window, booked a room in a nearby business hotel. A quiet, clean room with a big bed and heavy curtains was exactly what she needed. The hotel was three miles from home, a bit pricey, but Ellen decided her sanity was worth the cost.
Forty minutes later she was inside. The silence was tangible. She took a hot shower, washing away the smell of the hospital and the days chaos, shut the curtains tight, put her phone on silent and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
She awoke to darkness outside. The clock read seven p.m. Her phone blinked with twenty missed calls from Simon and five from Olivia, plus a flood of messages. She sat up, stretched, and began to read.
Simons early texts were cheerful: All good, watching Paw Patrol, Theyre asking for food, Ill make dumplings. Then the tone shifted: Lenn, wheres the antiseptic? Freddie banged his knee, Oliver spilled jam on my laptop, what do I do? Lenn, pick up, theyre fighting! When will you be back? I cant handle this! The last message, half an hour ago, read: Olivia isnt answering, the kitchen is a mess. Please come.
Olivias only reply was a hostile rant: Are you normal? Youve abandoned your husband and his kids! What a selfish witch!
Ellen set the phone down, ordered room servicea Caesar salad and a glass of wine. She wasnt going back to rescue Simon; this was his lesson, and he had to live with the consequences of letting his sister and her children storm their home.
She dined slowly, watched a light film, and only around ten oclock decided to return. The hotels checkout was at midnight, but she preferred to be home, and Baxter would be distressed if left alone.
As she reached the stairwell, a sob echoed from the landingone of the boys, it seemed.
She fumbled her key, opened the front door, and faced a scene that could only be described as a battlefield. A coat rack lay overturned, flour sprinkled across the floor like a white carpet leading to the kitchen, the air thick with the smell of burnt toast and valerian. In the livingroom, Simon sat amid the wreckage: hair disheveled, his shirt stained, a bruised eye hinting at a stray projectile. Freddie and Oliver lay on the sofa under a blanket, fast asleep, their tiny chests rising and falling.
Simon lifted his eyes, filled with a sorrow that seemed to span the universe.
Youre back he whispered.
Back, Ellen replied calmly, stepping over a sticky puddle. Wheres Olivia?
She she hasnt arrived. Her phone is off.
Right. Evening for her means morning, I suppose. How was the quiet play?
Simon covered his face with his hands and groaned.
This is hell. They never sat still. They dumped flour, tried to bake a cake, fought over the remote and smashed a vase. They almost drowned Baxter in the bath. I couldnt even go to the loo; the moment I turned my back they started a new demolition.
I told you, Ellen said, without malice, I warned you, Simon. You thought I was being dramatic, a selfish nag.
Im sorry, Simon pleaded, eyes pleading. I was an idiot. I thought it would be easy. I thought you were just tired and being petulant. I didnt understand how you survived this before.
I didnt survive, Simon admitted. I just barely made it through two days of exhaustion. I kept quiet because I cared for you, didnt want to add to your burden. Today I finally felt pity for myself.
A metallic screech came from the front door as someone tried to force it open. At last the door swung wide and Olivia stumbled in, cheeks flushed and the unmistakable scent of alcohol on her breath.
Hello, everyone! she sang, throwing herself into the flat. Why so quiet? My angels asleep?
She spotted Ellen, arms crossed, a faint smile fading.
Ah, the queen arrives. Rested? Conscience clear? Dumped your husband? Olivia taunted.
Shut up, Olivia, Simon snapped, his voice low but steelhard.
What did you say? she demanded, fluttering her lashes.
Simon rose, stepped close to his sister.
I said shut up. You promised to be out by eight. Its eleven now. You left the kids, turned off your phone and went drinking with friends, then lied about the paperwork.
Do I have the right to relax? Im a mother, Olivia protested.
Youre a cuckoo mother, Simon cut in. Look at what your children have turned my flat into. Who will clean this? Lena? No. You. Right now.
Youre insane! Im exhausted! Im on heels! Its just kids playing! Cleaning is my job! she shouted.
Then take them and get them out. Pack them, dress them, and make sure you never set foot in this house for a month.
Youre kicking the kids out at night? Ill tell everyone! Olivia yelled, her voice rising.
Go ahead, Simon replied coldly. Tell everyone how you lie, abandon your children, get drunk. Ill add photos of the broken lamp, the smashed vase, the ruined laptop. By the way, the laptop costs £100,000 to replace. Pay up, sister.
Olivias mouth opened, then closed. She looked at the brother she had always seen as soft and pliable and realised today the dynamic had shifted. She glanced at Ellen, whose expression remained impenetrable. There was no support to be found.
Olivia huffed, pushed the sleeping boys into jackets, and thrust them toward the door.
Get up! Were not wanted here! Uncle Simon is bad! Aunt Lena is wicked! Lets go home!
The boys whined, confused, as Olivia herded them out. Five minutes later the flat filled with the noise of awakened children and Olivias shouting.
Ill never forget this! she cried as she left. My feet will never touch this floor again!
Simon closed the door behind her, leaned his back against it and slumped onto the flourcovered floor.
God such peace, he muttered.
Ellen crouched beside him, ruffling his hair.
So, hero? Do you see now why I refused?
I do, Simon said, eyes red, looking like a beaten dog. Lena, Im sorry. I truly didnt value you I thought it was all womens whims. Never again. No more urgent Olivia business unless its a fire or war, and only with your agreement.
Fine, Ellen replied, a faint smile appearing. But youll clean this mess. I still have half a day left if I count the sleep.
Ill clean. Ill clean everything. Ill fix the laptop. Ill wash Baxter. You go.
Ellen headed to the bedroom, paused, and looked back. Simon sat amid the chaos, exhausted, dirty, but finally grown. He had finally taken off his rosecoloured glasses and seen his sisters world without sugarcoating it. It had cost a broken lamp and a carpet of flour, but it was worth the clarity.
The next day, motherinlaw Margaret called, ready to lecture about how badly theyd treated Olivia. Simon cut her off, calmly listing the facts: drunken sister, lies, property damage, the cost of repairing the laptop. He mentioned he expected compensation. Margaret, unprepared for such a response, muttered something about young people and hung up.
Ellen, sipping tea in her freshly cleaned kitchen, felt a deep sense of peace. She had defended her boundaries, shown her husband reality, and, most importantly, finally slept.
Olivia disappeared for two months. When she finally called asking to watch the kids for an hour, Simon simply said, Sorry, we have plans. Were resting. He hung up, and the silence that followed was the sweetest music Ellen had ever heard.
The lesson she carried forward was simple: caring for others should never mean sacrificing your own health and happiness. Setting firm limits protects both yourself and those you love.
