**Diary Entry 20th March**
“Mum, Ive been thinking Why do you need three bedrooms? One seems enough, really. Little Sophie sleeps with you anyway.”
At first, Emily didnt grasp what her mother meant. She assumed Mum wanted to dump some “treasured” relic in their flata threadbare armchair or an old sideboard that had been in her way for years.
“Well yes, we dont use the other rooms much,” Emily admitted cautiously.
“Exactly! So Ive decided to rent them out. Ill find quiet tenantsno trouble. No point letting good space go to waste, is there? You know how it isI let you stay there, and now Im barely scraping by.”
Emily froze. At first, she thought shed misheard. Then, a cold, cracking sensation spread through her chest. Visions flashed in her mindstrangers in their kitchen, noise, crowds. All of it in a home with a three-month-old baby. Maybe it wouldnt be so bad, but it was a gamble. And she wasnt willing to risk her daughters safety.
“Mum What tenants? I have a child! I dont want strangers in the house.”
“Oh, you grew up in a shared flat, and you turned out fine,” Mum dismissed. “Ive already done you a favour, hardly charging you rent while you save up. What am I supposed to dogo begging?”
Emily clenched her jaw. She hadnt expected betrayal from her own mother. Mum would never rent out rooms in *her* flat, but here? No hesitation.
Still, Emily pushed the hurt aside. Sophie was what mattered.
“Fine, if its that important Well pay you for this month,” she finally said. “Well figure something out after.”
She expected Mum to pause thento say she couldnt take money from her own daughter, especially now. Maybe offer them the month free. But
“Good. Ill charge you mates rates£500,” Mum said breezily. “Just give me two weeks notice if you leave, so I can line up the next lot. Oh, and youll need to show the flat to them. No point leaving it empty.”
“Fine,” Emily muttered, hanging up.
She opened her banking app and transferred the money. As she pressed *Send*, she felt ittheir relationship had shifted from family to business.
Mum had always been like this. Skilful at twisting things to her advantage, though it had never stung this badly.
Take Emilys tenth birthday. She only learned years later her godmother had sent lavish giftsa plush pony, a robotic dog, designer dolls. Mum passed them off as her own, adding nothing herself. At the time, Emily had been only slightly hurt. She knew it was wrong but didnt grasp the full weight. Her godmother, however, stopped sending gifts directlyswitching to Grandma instead.
Then there was Aunt Lydias visit. Shed booked a hotel but Mum insisted, “No need to drag your girl around dodgy streets! Stay with us. I cant promise restaurant meals, but youll be comfortable.”
Aunt Lydia hesitated but agreed. She was consideratestocked the fridge to the brim on day one. “You cook, well supply,” shed said cheerfully. “Well be out all day anywayqueues, museums, sightseeing.”
They left early, returned late. No trouble. Yet on day three, Mum announced, “Lydia, Ive overestimated myself. Maybe ring the hotel?”
Aunt Lydia was furious. The hotel wouldnt take her back, so she scrambled for alternatives. Emily never saw her or her cousin again.
Back then, Emily believed Mum was just tired of guests. Now she understoodMum had wanted free food. Once she got it, she kicked them out.
Before, Emily only suffered indirectly. Teachers side-eyed her when Mum refused school donations or caused scenes. She missed birthday parties”Who knows what those parents are like?”though really, it was about gifts. But none of that compared to the flat.
Emily and James had known each other since school. Friends first, then something deeper. James even gave up his dream for herhed wanted to study medicine up north but stayed, knowing she wouldnt follow. They both trained as psychologists instead. Emily became a school counsellor; James went into HR. They married, saved for a mortgage, planned childrenlater, once settled.
Then life intervened. An unplanned pregnancy.
Seeing those two lines, Emily didnt know whether to laugh or cry. A baby with the man she lovedbut now? When they were *so close* to their deposit?
“Your choice,” James had said. He wanted the baby too but understood the practical strain.
Enter Mum.
“Why the fuss?” shed said. “God sends the babe, Hell send the bread! Stay in my second flatGrans old place. Save up there. Dont you dare get rid of that child! What if you cant have another?”
Her offer tipped the scales. Despite Mums difficult nature, Emily believed they had a decent relationship. Here was a mother, well-resourced, helping her struggling daughter. Noble. Beautiful. *If only it had stayed that way.*
Now? Emily didnt know where to turn. What if Mum decided £500 wasnt enough? Or moved in friends? She wouldnt put it past her.
That evening, she told James. He listened, grim, then pulled her into a tight hug as she broke down.
“Dont worry. Ill sort itsooner than a month.”
And he did.
Days later, they visited his mother, Margaret. Nothing unusualthey dropped by often. Margaret had known Emily over a decade, taking her and James to the park as kids.
At one point, Margaret took Emilys hand.
“Love, James told me everything. Dont fretIll help with the deposit. Youre good kids, independent. At your age, some still mooch off their parents.”
Her voice was quiet, no grand speeches like Mums. But the warmth in her eyesEmily burst into tears at the table, hands over her face. The contrast was staggering: her own mother, squeezing them dry, and her mother-in-law, offering a lifeline.
They decided to stay with Margaret while sorting the mortgage. James packed their things; Emily returned the keys to Mums flatbut didnt go upstairs. She dropped them in the mailbox and texted.
“You didnt come up?” Mum replied, surprised.
“Was it not obvious?”
“Well *You* chose to leave. No one forced you. Youre the one who got offended.”
From that day, Emily cut contact almost entirely. Truthfully, she had no energy for itpaperwork, signatures, renovations. She freelanced to ease the mortgage burden. It was hard, but she felt part of something bigger.
Now, she focused wholly on her familyJames, Sophie, Margaret. The woman whod given them not just money, but faith and a future. As for Mum? Well you dont choose family. Sometimes, the ones who matter arent blood, but those who stand by youor at least dont betray you.
**Lesson learned: Family isnt always the one youre born into. Its the ones who hold you up when the rest let go.**
