Yes, the flat is small, but we’ll buy your cousin a bed.

Anyone who works will understand the sense of dread I felt when the doorbell rang early on my one day off. Its almost as if the universe cant leave you be, even for just a morning.

Half-awake, and for some inexplicable reason, the first thing that popped into my head was a plumbing disaster. I scrambled out of bed, half-convinced Id flooded the downstairs neighboursafter all, it wouldnt be the first time. To my relief, both the bathroom and the kitchen floors were bone dry. No water, no angry neighbours, no repeat of the fiasco from six months back.

The doorbell kept ringing, relentless. Resigned, I shuffled to the front door and, upon opening it, was greeted not by a friendly face, but by the sight of several battered suitcases and a group of people standing behind them.

Oh, Id never have recognised you in the street! An older woman beamed as though this backhanded compliment would somehow soften the surprise.

My mind racedwho were these people?

I studied the womans companion, who smiled broadly and offered me a handshake. Behind him, a lad peeked out, mercifully not chiming in with his own observations. Before I could ask any questions, the older woman chirped, Well, dont leave us standing in the hallway, lets come in!

Excuse me, I managed, what do you mean, come in?

She looked taken aback. Oh, dont you recognise your uncle? I looked after you when you were little, you know! And this she gestured towards the young manis your cousin. Hes just arrived to study here in London and hasnt anywhere to stay. We thought he could stay here with you for a bit. Well sort out a bed for him later, so thats no trouble. We also brought you a few little gifts! Did your father not mention it?

No, he didnt call I muttered.

Oh, well, never mind about him! Well get it all sorted ourselves, she insisted with a wave of her hand.

What do you mean sorted? You mean hes moving in here?

Yes, hell be staying with you! You know how hard it is for someone new in a city like this, she replied, matter-of-factly.

Well, I wont be looking after anyonemy fiancé is round all the time and theres really no space, I said, trying not to sound too defensive.

Well sort it somehow she started.

I dont want to sort anything, I cut in. There are university halls, Ive lived in them myselfhell be fine there.

Oh, but thats just not an option! she protested, visibly irritated now.

Their smiles evaporated and they made a move toward the doorway, dragging their suitcases behind them, but I stood firm. I realised if those bags crossed the threshold, there would be no turning back. Politely but firmly, I asked them to wait five minutes, then walked my cousin and his hopeful entourage to the university residence where hed already secured a place.

Their response was a flurry of accusationscold, sharp, and decidedly lacking in the earlier enthusiasm. I was suddenly branded selfish and inconsiderate; the cheerful greetings long gone. Eventually, though, both relatives and luggage disappeared from my life that day.

Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, I rang my parents to ask, What on earth was all that about?

Mum was livid. She scolded me for not being family-minded and seemed genuinely disappointed. I suppose in moments like these, you realise just how complicatedand unreasonablefamily can be.