Hang On, Theyre Family
Anna Cunningham unlocked her front door with her own key, as she did every night for the past seven years, and felt an odd, unsettling stillness. Jonathan wasnt in the lounge, where he usually watched telly after work, but sitting bolt-upright at the kitchen table, looking like a guilty schoolboy bracing for a headteachers lecture.
Anna he began, before shed even taken off her shoes.
Wait, she said quietly.
She slipped off her heels and placed them toe-to-the-wall on the mat, as was her habit. Hung her coat on the rack instead of draping it on a chair like Jonathan often did. She walked through to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and only then faced him.
Anna, its he started again, voice awkward.
She instantly knew something massive was about to knock her eveningperhaps her whole lifeoff balance.
Mum and Sophie are coming to stay for a bit, he finally confessed, eyes locked on the tablecloth. Just a couple of weeks. Some burst pipe at theirs.
Anna put down her glass, controlled, no clatter.
Where are they staying?
Well… here. He met her gaze at last. Anna, what could they do? The whole place is flooded. The builders are in. Sophie, little Ben, and Mum. Mum can’t manage by herself, you know that.
And where are they all going to sleep?
Well, Mum in your study, and Sophie and Ben on the sofa bed in the lounge?
She stared at him. He looked at her with an eager, needy plea for approval, like hed done the right thing.
Theyre on their way already, arent they? Anna asked.
Sort of, yes. Theyre nearly here.
Anna nodded and left the kitchen without another word.
Shed spent a year and a half searching for this flat. Scrolled through hundreds of listings, viewed properties in all weathers, counted, recounted, saved and scrimped. Two-bed in a quiet side street just ten minutes from the centre, second floor, windows onto the courtyard, solid old walls. Anna had overseen everything, from re-laying the parquet to the last piece of tile in the bathroom. Hung her own curtainsafter three weeks of deliberation.
Before this place, shed rented a boxy room in Edmonton for eight years, and before that it was a university hall, with twenty-four people sharing one bathroom. She learnt to set her alarm for 5am to beat the queue. Before halls, it was a cramped two-bed in Sutton with her parents, her gran, and her little brotherher corner behind a wardrobe curtain.
But this flat… this was her space. The first ever just hers.
In her mornings, only the birds were noisy. The coffee was always freshly brewed in her little copper pot, mingling with the faint scent of beeswax from polishing the parquet. Every item sat where shed left it. Nobody shifted things around while she slept.
Her studysoon to be commandeered by her mother-in-lawwas her sanctuary. Generous desk under the window, good monitor, sketching tablet. Shelves with all her project binders and samples. A pinboard covered in mood images and checklists. This was where she built things: ideas, client calls, late-night flashes of inspiration. The air here smelled of paper, graphite, just a trace of early-morning coffee.
She stood in the study doorway, staring at her desk. Then walked back to the kitchen.
Jonathan, she said, calm. Im in the middle of a vital project. A serious client.
Anna, just for a fortnight.
And where do I work?
The kitchen? Maybe the lounge He faltered beneath her glare. They are family, Anna. Theyve nowhere else to go.
Light flickered from the streetlamp in the backyard. Linden leaves trembled in the gloom.
Only two weeks? Anna said.
Yes. Until its all sorted.
All right.
She retreated to the bathroom and stood under the hot spray until it ran lukewarm.
Evelyn, Jonathans mum, arrived at half past nine. Anna heard Bens boisterous demand for snacks from the hall as she lay staring at the bedroom ceiling.
Jonathan poked his head in. Anna, come say hello.
Im knackered. Shocking long meeting.
Theyll be upset
She rose anyway.
Evelyn stood in her long coat, eyeing the flat like an antiques dealer pricing up treasures. Sophie fussed with Ben, whod already kicked off his trainers and began stomping muddy circles into Annas pristine floor.
Ben, Anna called gently. Lets take off your shoes.
He never listens, muttered Sophie, not turning.
Evening, Evelyn, Anna offered.
Anna. A pursed smile. Well, the circumstanceswhat can you do?
Evelyn hugged Jonathan, patting his back as if retrieving lost property, then began opening every door in the hall, still in her coat.
Ill sort myself out, thanks, she told Jonathan curtly. Its a simple two-bed, isnt it.
Anna listened as Evelyn entered her study, flicked on the light, heard the creak of Annas desk chair.
Good desk! Evelyn shouted. Jon, help with the bags?
Meanwhile, Ben had dashed to the kitchen and already clambered onto a chair.
Im starving! he declared.
In a minute, Sophie called wearily. Anna, do you have any food? We didnt stop on the way.
Anna opened the fridge. Tomorrows lunch: salad, eggs, a bit of soup, a pint of milkshe hadn’t shopped yet, planning to nip out at eight. Grains in the cupboard. She could make something. Nearly eleven. Early video call at nine.
Is porridge all right? she asked.
If its all youve got, Sophie sniffed.
Anna put the kettle on.
That first morning, she woke to the television blaring on the sofa bed at 7amsomething about otters, with a bombastic theme tune.
She lay there, staring upwards. Jonathan, already turned to the wall, was blissfully asleephe could snore through a thunderstorm. The coffee machine was in the kitchen. There was only one bathroom. The study was off-limits.
She padded out, robe tightly wrapped. From the lounge: Bens cartoons and running commentary, Sophies sleepy mumbles. She entered the kitchen and stopped short.
Last night, after Anna washed up, Evelyn watched her put the plates away and asked, Do you really stack them upside down?
Yes. Less dust.
Hm, Evelyn said, but later, Anna noticed, the plates had all been turned the right way up.
Now, the plates were right-sides up. A battered old frying pan, not Annas, sat by the hob. Grocery bags on her prep spotsupplies Evelyn had brought, taking up the very space Anna always used for chopping.
Anna shifted the bags onto a stool by the window. Set her little copper pot on to boil. Through the misty glass, people walked dogs, scattered yellow leaves sogged onto the tarmac.
Coffee perfect. She savoured a quiet half-mug before Ben shuffled in wearing socks and a dinosaur pyjama top.
Have you got any biscuits? he demanded.
Porridge for breakfast, mate.
Dont want porridge
Go wake your mum, love.
Mums asleep.
Ben parked himself on her shopping stool, knees squashing Evelyns shopping, and peered out the window. Anna left him and got dressed.
Trying to work at the kitchen table felt strange. She sipped her second coffee, stared at her blueprints, but heard nothing but voices. Evelyn, up by eight, was unimpressed.
Working out here? Thats awkward.
Ill manage, Anna said.
Evelyn bustled, boiled her kettle, opened mysterious jars that soon filled the kitchen with an unbearably sweet jam scentAnna couldnt stand anything sugary in the morning, especially not when focused, but said nothing.
At nine, she ducked out to FaceTime a clientan estate owner needing a bespoke country house, with clever orientation and light. This kind of commission meant her reputation and half a years income if all went well.
She spoke in near whispers, as Evelyn, through thin walls, napped in her study. But then Ben started thundering up and down the hallway with a toy lorry. Anna shut the kitchen door tight and turned her back to the window.
Yes, I can work with the landscape. Thats actually fascinating. No, I can stillyes, Im listening
After the call, she sat staring at the screen. Good project. Good client. It could change everything. But instead of excitement, all she could think about was her deskburied beneath someone elses bags. Evelyns offhand question, Have you got any proper coasters? As a favour Anna handed over a wooden one from Helsinkithree years ago, now out of her possession.
That first week passed in a fog. Annas routine, usually so ordered (up by six-thirty, two hours of pure peace, work; after that, the flat would come alive but she could still grab spells of focus), was gone. Now there was no peace at all.
Ben was always awake by seven, chattering full-tilteven to himself, narrating cartoons, singing atonal songs, his little voice spearing through any closed door.
Evelyn took forever in the bathroom. Anna never worked out why she needed exactly thirty minutesthe precise moment Anna needed to wash up for a video meeting, shed hear the shower behind the door.
Sophie pattered about in massive knitted socks, leaving her things everywhere: charger cable curling under the hall carpet, makeup bag perching on the bathroom basin, magazines spread open and upside-down on the coffee table. Anna tidied up, but the mess reappeared like magic.
On the third day, Evelyn cooked lunch. Seemed a lovely gestureuntil Anna realised shed be pan-frying burgers right alongside Annas laptop and sketches, the oily, heavy smell weaving into everything.
Burgers done! Evelyn announced. Sit, eat nowhave it hot for Jonathan when he gets in.
Thanks, Ill eat later.
Why? Its best hot.
Im on a deadline.
With a look that said computers were trivial next to a hot meal, Evelyn shrugged.
Well, dont complain its cold, then.
Anna slipped on headphones.
That night, Jonathan came home. Evelyn fussed over his dinner, she and Sophie nattering and laughing into the evening. Anna perched with her laptop in the lounge: not ideal, but the kitchen was now off-limits.
Anna, come eat! Jonathan shouted.
Im fine.
Mums cooked!
I noticed.
He appeared in the doorway with a plate.
I brought you some.
No thanks, Jonathan. Ill eat later.
Anna
Im working.
He left, voices murmured in the background, Evelyns: You can see itshes clearly not happy
Anna closed her laptop and sat, enveloped in relentless sound. She remembered her own unused study, with corkboard and samples and the unique tang of sharpened pencils. That room now reeked faintly of someone elses perfume.
On the fifth day, Evelyn rearranged the mugs.
Anna always kept mugs on the lower-left shelf for handy access. Now they were up high on the right, and in the old spot, Evelyns cereals.
Anna put them back. Next morning, theyd shifted once more.
Evelyn, Anna said at breakfast, the mugs are easier down here.
But now the cereals are all togethermakes sense, doesnt it, darling? Evelyn replied, the tone shed use with a stubborn grandchild.
Its my cupboard. I have a system.
Well, while were here, this works best.
Anna drank her coffee by the window.
That afternoon, her Greek yoghurt vanished from the fridgeher post-run treat, bought that morning from the shop downstairs.
Evelyn, did you see my yoghurt? Second shelf?
Oh, I gave it to Ben. He wanted something sweet, so I thoughtits yoghurt, can’t hurt. Pick up another, theres a shop just downstairs.
Anna closed the fridge.
Please dont take my things without asking. If Ben needs something special, tell me or Sophie.
Oh, dont be silly, Anna. Honestly. Were all together here!
Were not all together. Youre staying over. As guests.
Evelyn gave her a look as if shed sworn. Shook her head and left Anna in silence.
That night, Jonathan slid into bed beside her, squeezed her hand.
Anna, you upset Mum. Shes hurt.
I just said not to take my food.
Its only yoghurt.
It isnt about yoghurt.
Then whats it about?
Anna stared up at the ceilingwhite, smooth, painted by her own steady hand, climbing a ladder, grimacing at drips. The second coat went perfect.
Its my fridge in my flat. I shouldnt have to explain why I want my things left alone.
Hang on, love. Just a couple of weeks, isnt it?
Youve said that twice now.
Look, the builders are dealing with it
Have you called them?
He hesitated.
Well… Mum says its the stack this time, they need to replace itmight take longer.
How much longer?
Shes not sure.
So you havent called.
He was silent. Anna rolled away.
On day nine, Anna lost her frying pan.
Not lost, preciselyher trusted ceramic pan, saved for, cherished, wiped delicately after every use, now scored all over with silvery scratches. Clearly someone had used a wire scourer.
She stared at the pan, at the ruined glaze, and tucked it away.
Evelyn breezed in.
Morning. Making breakfast?
No, thanks.
Oh Anna always like this
Evelyn, who cleaned my frying pan?
I did, yesterday. It was greasy so I gave it a good scrub!
With steel wool? Thats ceramic. Now its ruined.
Dont be daft. Its spotless! Who cares if its a bit scratched
You looked after your pans how you wanted. Please, dont touch mine again.
I was only helping!
I didnt ask for help.
Evelyn shook her head, deeply offended, and closed the door so gently and firmly that it hurt more than a slam.
That evening, Jonathan wore a sorry expression.
Mums upset over the pan.
She ruined it.
She didnt mean it. She tried to help.
It cost £40. Now it’s landfill.
Ill get you a new one.
Thats not the point.
Then what is?
Slowly she said, In my flat, people touch my things, break them, tell me Im imagining it.
Anna, Mums just old. She doesnt mean it.
Its not her intention, its respect.
Just hang on, love.
How many times will you say just hang on?
He scratched his head.
Theyre family, Anna.
She left the room. He tiptoed after her back to the kitchen, where, through the wall, she could hear Evelyn mutter and Jonathan placate.
Anna called her oldest mate, Laura.
Theyve been here nine days now.
Didnt you say, only two weeks?
Now its stretched. They wont say when.
Classic. My brothers wifes mum came for a monththree years later, they finally moved out.
Dont.
Im not kidding. Your things? Your project?
I ask them not to touch. Jonathan says just hang on.
She lay quietly, Lauras words swirling. Laughter echoed from the kitchen, Evelyn and Jonathan chatting, their laughter more natural than Anna had ever heard, left out as always.
Anna realisedthis was Jonathans home, his family. Not hers. For him, this was enough.
Twelve days in, Evelyn critiqued Annas cooking.
Just some baked cod with lemon and herbsplain and tasty. Anna loved making fish.
Do you always cook fish, dear? Evelyn piped, watching.
In many ways, Anna replied.
Jons not keen on fish.
He eats it fine.
Out of politeness. Always preferred good meat. I did proper dinners, meat and two veg.
Fish is healthier, Anna said evenly.
Oh, thats debatable. Men need proper meals. Cod alone wont fill a man.
Anna flipped the fish.
Jonathan never complained.
Well, he does love you, he’d never say.
Are you sure you asked?
Anna, I raised him for twenty years. Of course I know.
And for the last seven, Ive cooked. Hes had no complaints.
Tense silence. Evelyn left, taking her cup of tea and Sophie with her.
Jonathan entered a few minutes later, looking cautious.
Fish again?
Fish again.
He ate in silence, then offered: Tastes nice.
Anna washed her hands and left the kitchen.
That night, lying together in the dark, Anna asked, Spoke to the builders?
Pause.
Mum said, three more weeks.
Annas eyes opened wide.
Three weeks?
Stacks got to go up through all the flats. Theyll take a while.
So not just two weeks. Itll be over a month. Jonathan, Ill lose this job. I cannot work at the kitchen table with a five-year-old underfoot.
Anna
Ive no study, no private video calls, no rest. Cant sleep for the telly through the wall.
Bens sleeping by nine
Hes up at seven, chattering all the while.
Mum goes early too.
Yes, but gets up at nightkitchen light shining under the door.
How do you know?
Because Im awakeand see it.
He was quiet.
Ill speak to her.
Dont. Three more weeks. I just have to bear it.
Work on her clients house grew intense. Anna was sculpting a vision: the house organic to the garden, merging with the land, windows chasing the light. But focus was impossibleBen forever in and out; Evelyn always needing to just use the kitchen; Sophie camped with her late-morning phone calls and the kettle.
Do you mind phoning somewhere else? Anna pleaded.
Its the kitchen, isnt it? Im only making tea.
Im working.
Ill be quiet.
Quiet, she was not.
Anna started working late at night. All asleep, shed creep in, make tea, sketch, push on till two or three, then manage on four hours rest. Jonathan noticed.
Again? You cant keep this up.
No other choice.
Ben goes out in the daycant you try then?
Only when Sophie actually takes him outside, which isnt often.
Jonathan always sighed and drifted off to work.
She meant to have it out properly with him, but always it was a bad timehed just got in, or Evelyn hovered. Or Anna was too tired and feared shed cause a row, not a talk.
On the seventeenth day, it happened.
The morning was grey and chill, drizzle streaking the window. Anna, strung out from a late night, was halfway through perfecting her blueprintstwelve hours of work since Saturday. Her vision was sketching itself out, bright and clear.
I need a cuppa, she whispered, rising.
Boiled the kettle. Mug, teabag, just two or three minutes away.
When she turned, Ben sat at her spot, Annas laptop open, grasping a big glass of blackcurrant juice. He jabbed at the keyboard, leant closer to get a better lookthe way children dojuice tilting with him.
Annas scream burst out, not a word, just a sound. She lunged, but too latea dark cascade of juice flooded the keyboard, running everywhere. Laptop flickered, blinked, died.
Ben looked up, huge-eyed.
I didnt mean to, he said.
Anna stared at the sticky pool creeping towards her precious, painstaking work.
Sophie! Anna yelled.
Sophie arrived, surveyed the mess, and said flatly, Ben, what did you do?
He spilt juice on my laptop, Anna rasped.
Hes just a child, Anna
My work
Anna, hes only a kid.
Jonathan shuffled in, bleary.
Whats this? he asked.
Anna pointed at the ruined machine.
Jonathan picked it up, juice dripped from inside.
Ah, he said.
Thats twelve hours workmy project!
I get it, Anna
Do you? Its a six-month contract. I havent slept for three days.
Its justkids dont understand
I am NOT complaining about a child! Im saying theres nowhere in my home where I can work and not get interrupted!
Evelyn entered, took in the scene, and said, Well, its your fault.
Anna spun around. What?
Who leaves a laptop open with children about? Really, Anna. You should have cleared up.
I made tea. For three minutes. This is my kitchen, my table. I shouldnt have to hide my things every time I get a drink.
Easily avoided.
Annas voice remained low. Evelyn, youre right. I should have seen this coming.
She took her damaged laptop, wrapped it in a tea towel, and went to the bedroom.
Sat on the bed, staring at the floor.
Voices drifted through the door; Evelyn grumbling, Sophie herding Ben, then footsteps, Jonathan almost knocked but didnt.
Anna stroked her laptop, now bearing a pinkish mark. She shut her eyes and felt something inside her uncurlnot relief, exactly, just a numb resolve.
That night, Anna didnt work. She just thought, in the way you do when the decision was made ages before.
Jonathan undressed silently beside her, asked, You okay? She replied, Fine. They never talked after that.
She thought about her flat, how she had found it, how shed laid on a sleeping bag before furniture, how, even with streaky paint and bare bulbs, she thought, Im home. She thought about her work, how much she could try to salvage; shed have to, but she needed time, space.
She no longer had a place to workher desk covered in other things, her kitchen full of other people, her bathroom, hallway, her precious morning silence, all invaded. Her husband didnt want to see it, or change it. All he said: Hang on, darling, theyre family.
Anna had spent her life hanging onhalls with twenty-four to a bathroom, lodgings where she had to tiptoe at night, sharing a bedroom behind a wardrobe. She endured those years to have this simple, silent home.
Now, againhang on.
She felt calm, and certain.
At six, before dawn, she got up. While everyone slept, she brewed coffee and drank it by the dark window. Then she packed.
She moved quickly. Large suitcase down from the wardrobe. Into the study, where Evelyn snored softly. Annas workspace now clattered with Evelyns bottles and medicines, her jumpers draped on the samples shelves, some phone number tacked above Annas moodboard.
Anna didnt look at Evelyn, just quietly gathered her folders, devices, sketches, leaving anything that wasnt hers.
She packed Sophies thingsthat is, everything that wasnt Annasinto bags in the hallway: Evelyns boots, Bens jackets, the mystery groceries, Sophies makeup wallet, various chargers.
Then she went back to her bedroom.
Jonathan slept face to the wall. She perched at his side.
Jonathan.
Him, sleepy. Eh?
Ive packed your mums and Sophies bits. Theyre in the hall. Ive called them a taxiitll be here in twenty minutes.
He sat up, stunned.
What?
Theyre going.
Anna, are you nuts? Theres a flood at theirs!
Thats not my concern. This is your familys crisis. You handled it without consulting me. Im making my decision now.
Anna
You can go with them, if you want. Stay at your mums, crash at a mates, hotel, whatever. But now: pack your bag. I need them gone.
She left.
Sophie woke first, found her bags packed up.
Anna, what the hell is this?
Taxi in eighteen minutes. I’ve booked it to your address.
Are you throwing us out?
Yes.
Sophie waited for the punchline that never came.
We cant live at ours. Its not habitable!
Then you should sort that out.
Ill tell Mum.
Go on.
Evelyn emerged, rumpled and cross, saw the bags, saw Anna.
Whats this?
Your things. Taxis coming.
You cant do this. Its Jonathans flat as well!
Its in my name. I bought it. Paid for it. Did the work. Its mine.
You cant! This is out of order!
I can, and will, Anna said evenly. If you dont leave when the taxi arrives, Ill ring the police. Youve damaged my propertymy pan, my laptop. Ill have plenty to say.
Evelyns chest heaved. Jonathan!
Jonathan, now dressed, hovered nearby, bewildered.
Anna, you cant be serious.
Why?
You cant just tell people to leave!
Im politely reclaiming my flat.
Its the same thing!
It isnt. Shouting and insults is throwing out. I called a taxi and stayed polite.
Anna, calm downjust think.
Im calm, Anna said softly. I’ve thought this through. Please, help them downstairs.
Evelyn muttered furiously as she gathered her bits. Sophie quietly packed Ben, now drowsy.
We going home? Ben asked, eyes on Anna.
Yes, Anna told him, your flats ready.
He nodded sleepily.
Jonathan hauled a final bag, then turned back.
Anna, are you asking me to go too?
She looked at himforty-five, still wanting everyone happy, so nobody truly could be.
Yes, Jonathan. Please go. You can stay with your mum, or wherever you need, just go.
He looked lost. Packed his overnight bag in silence. At the door, he said, I didnt think you were like this.
Neither did I, Anna answered.
He left.
For the first time in weeks, Anna stood in her own hallway, alone.
She heard footsteps, the clatter of bags, the lift shutting. Then, silence.
She made a circuit of the flat. Sticky juice patch on the table. Bens plastic beaker. Random mug at the edge. All her mess now, under her control.
She put the odd mug in the sink, cleared the remains of Bens breakfast from the table.
She wandered the corridorsscuffs on the waxed parquet from someones boots. Her study, at last hers again: window, corkboard, samples. The smell of other people lingered, but wouldnt for long.
She went back to the kitchen and boiled water for her morning coffee.
As she waited, she rang Laura.
How are you? I saw you online at seven
Theyve gone, Anna said.
Pause.
Whathow?
I packed up, called a cab. Gave Jonathan the boot as well.
Silence.
Anna
Dont. I know what youre thinking.
How are you feeling?
Anna stared out the window. Rain had stopped; puddles mirrored the cloudy dawn.
I dont know. Empty. Like when a heavy box is removed but the space is still there.
Therell be drama, you know. Hell call; his family will call
I know.
Do you actually know what you want?
Anna pondered that. The kettle began to sing.
Not yet. All I want for now is a quiet cup of coffee. Thats enough.
She made her coffee her way, in her mug, from its old place on the shelf.
Anna stood by her window, sipping.
Outside, the road was noisy and brightening, cleaner after rain. Behind her, the flat was disorderly, a little batteredher own chaos, all hers to resolve in her own time.
She placed her keys, just one set now, on the little table by the door.
She drank her coffee in silence.
The lesson she finally learned felt simple, but hard-won: A home is a boundary, made with years and sacrificeand sometimes, if you want to protect what gives you strength, its not wrong to insistcalmly, quietly, but firmlythat you are as important as everyone else. And sometimes, peace is worth defending, with or without approval.
