You’re the Big Brother, So You Must Help Your Little Sister—You’ve Got Two Flats, Give One to Your Sister! Not long ago, we celebrated my sister-in-law’s birthday. Alina has never had any friendly feelings towards me, and I’ve always felt the same about her. The celebration brought together all our relatives: grandparents, nephews, and of course the birthday girl. Each relative felt obliged to congratulate my husband on his sister’s birthday, while also admiring his generosity. My husband and I graciously accepted the congratulations, but couldn’t grasp what was happening. In my hand was an envelope containing £100 as a present. I thought it was a decent gift for the occasion, though hardly a display of extraordinary generosity. Everything became clear when my mother-in-law began her birthday speech for Alina. “Mark,” she said, “it’s your sister’s birthday today. She’s still single and without a partner, so as her older brother you should look after her and guarantee her security. Now that you own two flats, you’ll give one to Alina.” The room burst into applause while I nearly fell off my chair at the cheekiness of it all. But it didn’t end there. “Brother, make sure you give me the one in the new build! So, when can I move in?” Alina pressed, and I decided it was time for some clarification. My husband and I actually have two flats. One I inherited from my grandmother; we did a bit of redecorating and now rent it out. The money from that pays the mortgage for our flat in the new building—where we actually live. My husband has no rights to the flat I inherited; I’ve always planned to pass it on to our child—my sister-in-law isn’t even in the picture. “Forget it, the rented flat is mine and the one you’re dreaming about is our home.” “Child, you’re quite mistaken. You’re my son’s wife, so all your assets are jointly owned and should be managed by your husband,” my mother-in-law chimed in. “I have no issue with you helping, but not with my assets!” I said. “Mark, do you have anything to add?” “Darling, you and I will earn more money and buy another flat. Let’s just give this one to Alina; it’s her birthday today.” “Are you serious?” I asked, astonished. “If it ever comes to that, you can give her half of our flat after we file for divorce!” “Aren’t you ashamed to speak to your husband like that? If you want a divorce, you’ll get one! Son, pack your things and come home. And you—you’re vile and greedy!” my mother-in-law snapped. After that, I left that crazy house. I wasn’t going to stick around with people who think they have the right to dispose of my property.

You are the elder brother, so you must help your younger sister. You own two flats, give one to your sister!

Not too long ago, we found ourselves celebrating my sister-in-laws birthday. Susan had never harboured any fondness for me, and I, in turn, mirrored her sentiments. The whole family descended on the house for the occasiongrandparents, nieces, nephews, even the birthday girl herself. Every relative felt obliged to congratulate my husband on the event, lavishing praise for his reputed generosity.

We accepted their congratulations with polite confusion. In our hands was an envelope containing a gift of five hundred pounds. I thought it was rather decent for such an occasion, but it was hardly what Id call spectacularly generous. Things became clearer when my mother-in-law began her speech to the celebrant.

Edward, its your sisters birthday today. Shes still single and has no one to look after her, so as her older brother you must make sure she is cared for and safe. Now that you own two flats, you should give one to Susan.

Everyone started applauding enthusiastically. I nearly fell off my chair at the audacity of it all. But it didnt end there.

Brother, youll give me the one in the new building, wont you? When can I move in? Susan piped up, bold as brass. I decided to set the record straight.

Edward and I did own two flats. One Id inherited from my grandmotherwed done a few cosmetic touches to it and now let it out. The money from the rental went straight to paying off the mortgage for our place in the shiny new building, where we actually lived. My husband had no claim to the flat I inherited, which Id always planned to leave to our child, certainly not my sister-in-law.

Forget it, I said. The flat we rent out is mine, and the one youve got your eye on is where we live.
My dear, youre mistaken, my mother-in-law chimed in, because youre married to my son. So, by right, all your property is joint property and your husband should decide how its managed.

I have nothing against sharing, I replied, but nobody will be helping themselves to my possessions. I turned to Edward. Well, do you have anything to add?

My love, why dont we just earn more money and buy another flat? Lets give Susan this oneafter all, its her birthday.

Are you serious? I gasped. If you ever feel the urge to give part of our own flat to your sister, you can do itafter weve filed for divorce!

How can you speak to your husband like that? If you want a divorce, youll get one! snapped my mother-in-law. Edward, I think its time you packed your bags and came back to live with me. And as for you, youre spiteful and scheming!

After her outburst, I slipped out of that mad houseI wasnt about to stay amongst people who thought they could help themselves to all I had.

Suddenly, as if in a strange and misty dream, the whole family began to shimmer and blur, their faces warping like reflections in a puddle on an English street after rain. The only thing that remained real was the breath of midnight air as I walked out, feeling both unreal and alive, drifting away from that bizarre vision of entitlement and feverish applause.