12December Evening
Im still shaking from the chaos that unfurled at my flat, and I cant help but record it while the memory is fresh.
After a long day at the accounting firm, I set off for the High Street Shopping Centre to buy Christmas presents. New Years is only two weeks away, and my old schoolfriend Sarah had invited me over for the holiday feast. I knew her house would be packed: her daughters husband and their kids, Sarahs sister, and my niece a university student would all be there. Im used to Sarahs gatherings, so I wanted to be ahead of the game and have gifts already wrapped, the way I love watching sales assistants neatly tuck everything into glossy paper.
The moment I stepped out of my car, my mood nosedived. Parked by the curb, Claire my exhusbands sister was waiting for me.
Hey, Vicky! she called, shaking off the cold. Why the long walk? Im practically frozen.
Good evening, Claire, I replied, surprised to see her. I didnt expect you here.
She gave a halfsmile. Family, right? Weve been considered relatives for at least twenty years.
Thankfully were not any longer, I muttered, reaching for the door handle.
Hold on, Vicky, I need a favour. Not just me the whole family.
What family? Ive been estranged from yours for a year now; Im not taking any requests, I said, trying to stay firm.
Just listen. I dont know how you and Michael split the assets, but Mum still believes the house you live in belongs to our side.
Michael and I bought that place together, and he spent ten years fitting it out. All of us celebrated New Years and MayDay there. What now?
Mum had planned a birthday in May, a big family gathering on the veranda, just like we always did. Then you turned her away and left without a word.
I felt my patience fraying. Why are you telling me all this? I was simply visiting a friend. Im sorry if I forgot to ask you.
She pressed on. Forget the family gettogether at my house. When Michael and I divorced, we agreed: the flat, the car and the garage went to him, the house to me. It was all legally documented. So you can only meet at Michaels flat now. Thats it.
Claire, Mum asked to let guests stay at the house on the 31st, just like before. Lots of relatives are coming; we have nowhere else to lodge them, she pleaded.
Margaret Hartleyand she asked? I cant believe it! For twenty years she only made demands of me. If she really wants it, tell her Im not agreeing and book the relatives a hotel instead.
I slipped back into the car, my enthusiasm for shopping evaporated. Ill buy the presents tomorrow, I told myself, and drove home.
Michael and I had been together for nearly twenty years; we bought the house ten years ago. A year ago he announced, with that smug grin of his, that life doesnt end at fortyfive and that he would start a new chapter with his attractive young secretary. I didnt try to stop him, but I also refused to be reduced to a mere afterthought. The house and our joint savings stayed with me; Michael walked away with a twobed flat, a £12,000 Toyota Corolla and a garage.
Because my only remaining child is a university student, Michael never pressed for any joint accounts. A few days ago, my daughter Emma called to say shed be staying in her hall of residence for New Years.
Mom, will you be angry? she asked. Ill be home for the holidays.
So I accepted Sarahs invitation. In her company I wont be lonely.
I know Claire well enough to realise this isnt over; shell keep pressing. And she was right.
Later that evening my former motherinlaw called.
Victoria, arent you taking on too much? Youve audaciously claimed Michaels house, and now you think we wont find a way to touch you?
Fine then, we wont throw you out for the holidays. Prepare three bedrooms my sisters and my niece will stay overnight. Ill sleep in the kitchen.
Margaret Hartley, does it matter that Im the sole owner of this house? I have the title deeds. If you try to bar us, the police will be called.
Well see who gets the police involved! Bring the food yourself; well handle the rest. And dont object, or youll remember this New Year for the rest of your life.
I thought, My motherinlaw has truly turned into a bulldog. Margaret has never been a peacemaker, but her latest tirade startled even me. Did she really expect me to cower and obey?
I used to be the model daughterinlaw, the one who kept the peace while the other two acquiesced to Margarets authority. Now, after the divorce, Margarets words left me bewildered what are they hoping to achieve?
Meanwhile, in Margarets flat, a plan was being drawn up.
Claire, you and Alex are in charge of buying groceries. Stock up now; well be cooking on the 31st and the early hours of the 1st.
Well handle the cold cuts and hot dishes. Sienna and Lucy will bring salads. Well pack everything in containers, and well borrow two dinnerware sets from Victoria she still has them after Michael left. He didnt take any when he moved out.
Mom, what if she refuses to let us in? Claire asked.
Let her try! Twelve of us will be there the whole clan. Shell be embarrassed. Can you picture it?
Shell open the door and on the porch will be Uncle Keith, Aunt Lucy, Beth and Natalie, and the rest. Do you really think shell shut the door on them? Shell probably invite us in, help set the table theyre family!
On the night of the 31st, at nine oclock, four cars parked outside house number14 on Eastern Road.
Its odd, Alex, Claires husband, remarked. The lights are off. Maybe Victoria isnt home?
Where could she be? Shes here. And Emma must have arrived too theyre probably hiding, trying to avoid us, Margaret chuckled. Ring the bell.
No one answered. The door stayed shut.
I have a spare key, Margaret said. I figured Victoria might try something, so I kept one for myself.
She opened the gate, and the whole party spilled into the driveway.
Hold on, Ill let the house in. Turn on the lights and bring everything into the kitchen; well set the table quickly. As for Victoria, let her hide if she wants we wont invite her to the table.
Minutes later, a clatter echoed from the hallway.
Theres the lady of the house, Alex announced.
But it wasnt Margaret.
I was busy helping Sarah lay the table when my phone rang.
Is this Victoria Bennett? The alarm at your house has been triggered. Police are on their way.
Currently there are twelve people claiming to be my relatives, saying they have permission to be here, I heard the officer say.
I never gave anyone permission. This must be my exhusbands family; I didnt invite them. They forced their way in.
Will you file a report?
Yes, but Im out of town until the day after tomorrow.
The uninvited guests were taken to the police station for a few hours. By the time they arrived at Margarets flat, the salads were already spilling and the hot dishes cooled.
When I finally got back home, Michael phoned, demanding I retrieve the police report.
Vic, didnt you change the lock? Didnt you suspect something? he asked.
I didnt replace it why ruin the door? I kept the old one and use it, I replied.
Then why did you lock it with the old key when you left?
I guessed your mother would show up with her guests, and I didnt want the door to be damaged by uninvited people.
So you deliberately left the old lock, which she has a key to, and set off the alarm? You provoked them!
My exwifes relatives could have celebrated New Years at their own place, but they chose to come here, and the police ended up handling it. Im not to blame.
Did you tell Claire youd put the house on alarm?
There were signs on the gate and the doors Protected by Police. Everyone can read them.
Ill let your mother, Claire, Alex and everyone else know I wont be hosting them again, I said firmly.
This time Ill take the report, but next time the law will be on my side.
I cant help wondering: was my former inlaws behaviour justified, or was it sheer spite? Ill have to live with the answer, but at least Ive got this diary to remind me of the absurdity of it all.
Victoria Bennett.
