**Diary Entry**
*»I refuse to be a servant to strangers, no matter their name.»*
*»I wont play maid to anyone, not even with a fancy surname.»*
That evening, after an exhausting shift at the pharmacy, I dragged myself into the lift, dreaming only of a hot shower, cosy pyjamas, and a quiet cup of tea. But before I could even change, my husband, Oliver, called out. His voice, casual and utterly unbothered, announced:
«Get ready, Emilyweve got guests tonight. My sister, Poppy, is staying for a few days!»
A hollow pit opened inside me. It wasnt a request or a discussion, just a statement: my time no longer belonged to me. I was stunned. *Which* Poppy? Why had no one mentioned this? Ah yes, his younger sistersomeone Id never met, never even exchanged a text with. All I knew were a few vague storiesa country girl from near Manchester, still in sixth form, apparently sensible and resourceful, as farm girls tend to be. But hearing about someone is one thing; having them turn up unannounced in your home is another.
Oliver, as if it were nothing, was already chatting with her in the kitchen when I arrived. They were sipping tea, and Poppy looked perfectly at ease, as though she owned the place. After dinner, she began exploring the flat with poorly concealed curiositywandering into every room like a tourist, lingering especially in our bedroom, which she clearly fancied. She even staged a little photoshoot, spread out my skincare products, and tried on some of my jewellery. I stood frozen.
«Poppy, excuse me, but this is my private space. You walked in without asking and touched my things. I dont appreciate it,» I said calmly but firmly.
She ducked her head, playing innocent:
«I didnt think youd mind I just wanted to see how you lived.»
I didnt reply and went to shower. At bedtime, I noticed not a single teabag remainedtheyd drunk them all. No tea, no peace, and worst of all, no consideration. Before turning in, Oliver added:
«Maybe think about what we could do with Poppy this weekend. Shell be bored otherwise!»
I stifled a sigh. Why should I rearrange my plans for a girl Id just met? Id scheduled a day of shopping, lunch, and a walk with my best friend, whom I hadnt seen in nearly a year. And now? Cancel everything for a teenager even her own mother couldnt be bothered to accompany?
The next morning, while I was still figuring out breakfast, Poppy was already made up, in a bedazzled jeans, phone in hand by the door.
«So, are we going? I fancied hitting the shopping centre, maybe grabbing a bite after?»
I looked at her and replied evenly:
«Listen, Poppy, youve got a phone with GPS. Heres a spare keygo wherever you like. But please, dont bother me.»
*»What?!»* She looked shocked. «I thought you and Oliver would come. Ive no moneyMum didnt give me any, I was counting on you»
«We can stroll without spending. And if youre hungry, you know where the fridge is.»
Silence. She slumped at the kitchen table, sulking. I grabbed my things and left for the shopping centre. Simply because I refused to feel like a stranger in my own home.
By evening, the whole family had descended. Too late, I realised it was a collective interrogation: why had I upset poor Poppy, why wouldnt I give her money, why was I so selfish? No one let me get a word in. They were all shouting. Poppy, in the other room, was milking it, the martyr of my supposed cruelty.
I let them finish, then said:
«Im not a servant. I owe no one anything. Poppy means nothing to me. I didnt invite her. My wages barely cover *my* needs. If youre so concerned about your niece, sort her stay out amongst yourselves.»
Oliver stayed quiet. Only late that night, once everyone had gone, did he murmur:
«Youre right I didnt want to fall out with them.»
End of story. Im not selfish. Im just a woman who demands respect. And if anyone thinks «family» means free labour and servitude, theyd better look in the mirror and ask if theyve any right to invade lives uninvited.
