“Another eight hundred and fifty,” Mum said, tapping the table beside my phone. “Can you do it now?”
I had come to their kitchen to collect my wedding savings. Instead, she was watching me as though I had arrived to settle an overdue bill.
“The standing order went through on Monday.”
“This would be extra, Lena. Just until things settle.”
“What things?”
She picked up her mug. “The banking is frozen. Some security problem. That’s why your money hasn’t come through.”
My wedding invoice was due in three weeks. Mum had £18,000 of my savings, money I had asked her to keep separate so I wouldn’t dip into it. That arrangement embarrassed me now. At the time, trusting her had seemed easier than trusting myself.
“If the account’s frozen, show me the message.”
“Not everything needs to be an interrogation.”
Dad sat beside the back door, rubbing a mark on his glasses. He had shown me their mortgage statement when I first offered to help: £850 a month. Their house, their debt, nothing guaranteed by me. Still, I had covered the whole payment every month because he said they couldn’t manage it.
Now Mum wanted another one while refusing to give back money that was already mine.
“Ring the bank,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
Before she answered, Poppy came in carrying a cardboard tray of coffees. She put one in front of me and squeezed my shoulder.
“You’re honestly the best sister. Mum said you’d come round.”
“Come round to what?”
Her hand stayed on my shoulder for another second.
“The deposit. For the salon premises.”
I looked at Mum. She lowered her mug without drinking.
“How much?”
Poppy pulled out the chair opposite. “Eighteen thousand. It’s a family investment, really. Once the salon’s running, everyone benefits.”
I moved the coffee away from me. It left a wet circle on the table.
“You paid them my wedding money?”
Mum glanced at Dad. He put his glasses back on.
“We paid to reserve the premises,” she said. “It’s a temporary loan. You’ll get it back after she opens.”
“My invoice is due before that.”
“We’ll work something out. You need to have a little patience.”
For a moment I wanted to apologise for making Poppy’s face fall. That was the part I hated admitting afterwards. They had spent my savings, and I was still checking whether my reaction had spoiled her morning.
“Did you ask me?” I said.
Mum pushed the coffee towards me. “We knew you’d want to help.”
I left it where it was and opened my banking app. My thumb missed the standing-order menu twice. When I found it, I cancelled every future payment to my parents.
Then I showed them the screen: Standing order cancelled.
Dad stood up.
“You can’t just leave us with the mortgage.”
“You’ve just lent out eighteen thousand pounds you don’t own.”
“That doesn’t pay the mortgage next month.”
“Then let the annexe.”
He had always said the self-contained place beside the house was empty, that nobody would rent it in its condition. I had accepted that without asking to see inside.
“It brings in nothing,” he said. “There is no rental income to fall back on.”
A key scraped in the side gate. Through the kitchen window, I watched a man carrying shopping bags walk towards the annexe. Dad turned towards the sound, then reached for the back-door handle.
I got there first.
