Bought an Apartment for Their Eldest Daughter? Well, You’d Better Move in with Her — Declared Fyodor to His Parents

12March2025
Dear Diary,

Tonight I found myself back at the Harris household in Oldham, the old twobed flat that has seen better days. Mum was in the kitchen, the smell of roast potatoes and beef patties filling the air. I had just finished a long haul for Transoil and was looking forward to a hot cup of tea when Charlotte slipped in, lugging a huge sack over her shoulder.

Mum, can I have a word? she asked, eyes darting to the kettle.

Sure, love, just kick off your shoes. Ive just given the floor a quick mop, Mum replied, stepping aside. Dads in the living room, the papers on the table.

The flat was modest, the kind of place you can barely fit a sofa and a TV without bumping into the curtains. Charlotte threw herself onto the couch, her hand resting on the swell of her pregnant belly. The dress she wore hung loose, accentuating the baby bump.

Dad, John, set his newspaper down and peered at her. Your feet are swelling again? Maybe you should see a doctor.

Its fine, Dad. First time, isnt it? she replied, smoothing the cushion behind her. Actually, theres something I wanted to discuss about the flat.

My flat? Mum walked in with a steaming mug, placing it gently in Charlottes hands.

The one you share with me, Charlotte said, taking a sip. You and Ed have your own rooms, right? If you sold the twobed, you could both move into a onebed.

Then you get the difference? a sarcastic voice called from the doorway. It was Ed, leaning against the frame in his Transoil jacket, a grin on his face. Looks like youre not wasting any time, sis.

Ed, have you come back yet? Mum asked, trying to sound upbeat. Ill make you a cuppa.

Later, Ed waved a hand, eyes still on Charlotte. First, lets hear what shes got planned.

Ed, dont jump in, Charlotte muttered. Im serious. You could both live comfortably in a onebed, and Id get the cash.

Who benefits? Ed stalked into the living room, throwing his heavy bag onto the floor with a thump. Me, with my parents in a onebed? Or you, with the money youre hoarding?

Dont shout, son, Dad tried to intervene. Lets discuss this calmly.

Whats there to discuss? Ed paced, his boots echoing. Five years ago we sold the garden shed, gave the money to you. Now you want the flat too? You bought the older daughter a flat and expect us to move in with you?

Im actually expecting my third child soon, Charlotte raised her voice. Were cramped in a twobed. We need more space!

And what am I supposed to do? Ed snapped, turning sharply toward her. Im thirtytwo, still havent got my own place because every penny goes into your expanding family!

Exactly, Charlotte huffed. I finally achieved something. I have a decent husband, a decent business, kids, a flat

A decent husband? Ed laughed bitterly. The one whos closing shop after shop? The whole town knows your husband Mark is deep in debt.

Charlotte went pale. What are you on about?

Come off it, sis. Im a lorry driver, crisscrossing the North. Ive heard the rumourstwo of Marks stores in Bolton have already shut, three more are hanging on by a thread. Suppliers wont deliver because the old debts arent paid. Thats why you think you need Mum and Dads money.

The room fell heavy with silence. Mum shifted her gaze between her children, eyes wide.

Charlotte, tell us this isnt true, Dad said, voice trembling. It cant be.

Charlotte sank back on the couch, tears brimming. I didnt want to tell you Mark really is in trouble. The shops arent making profit, weve already closed two. Creditors are breathing down our necks. If we dont find cash fast

So youre ready to leave Mum and Dad homeless? Ed shook his head. So you can cram us all into a onebed while you sort Marks debts?

What am I supposed to do? Charlotte wailed, eyes red. I have two little ones, a third on the way. We could lose everything!

Then sort it yourself! Ed roared. Stop living off Mum and Dad! They gave you the garden shed, the savingseverything. And now you want the last bit for yourself?

Youre just jealous, Charlotte snapped, nearly spilling her tea. Jealous that I managed to marry a respectable man, while youre just a driver.

Yeah, youve lucked out, Ed muttered. Now you want to rob the parents whove supported us all these years. Why not take them in? Let them live with you, since youve already taken everything else.

What? Charlotte recoiled. No! I have my own family, my own kids

So youll take from them but never give? Ed retorted. Only drag them down?

Enough! Charlottes hand shook as she clutched her bag. We could lose everything because of Marks debts!

Then well be left with no roof over our heads? Ed stepped closer. Get out of here. Stop milking Mum and Dad. Fix your own mess.

Charlotte slammed the door, the glass on the sideboard rattling. Mum sank into a chair, covering her face.

Why are you being so hard on her? Shes pregnant, Dad whispered.

How can she not be? Ed sighed, rubbing his neck. Shell spit on us anyway. All she cares about is the money.

Mums voice was barely a whisper. Maybe shell come to her senses.

A week passed with no word from Charlotte. Mum kept calling, each time the call went straight to voicemail. Then, unexpectedly, Mark showed up at the front door, looking gaunt in a crumpled suit, eyes hollow.

I was just about to head out for another haul when the bell rang. Mark shuffled in, voice hoarse.

May I speak with you? he asked, clutching a cold mug.

Mum led him to the kitchen in silence. I wanted to leave, but Dad stopped me.

Sit down, son. Listen. This concerns the whole family.

Mark sat, stirring his tea without taking a sip. After a long pause he said, Im here to apologisefor me and for Charlotte. We shouldnt have dragged you into this mess.

What happened? Mum asked softly.

Everything fell apart, Mark said, forcing a weak smile. The last shop closed yesterday. Creditors took the stock, the van, the equipment. I kept borrowing, thinking I could turn it around. Charlotte believed in me, thought selling the flat would help. It didnt.

I could feel the anger bubbling. So you thought it was okay to ask our parents for their last savings?

Yes, youre right, Mark admitted, eyes downcast. I got greedy, played the big businessman, took on far too many loans. When it collapsed, I was left with nothing but shame.

Mums face softened. Hows Charlotte holding up?

Shes crying all the time, Mark replied. She feels ashamed to come back after that argument. Shes always been proud.

And the kids? I asked.

Were trying, he said. Ive taken a job as a freight forwarder at a wholesale firm. Charlotte has found a role as a retail centre administrator once shes out of maternity leave. Well live like ordinary folk. Please, forgive us for pulling you into this.

When Mark left, the kitchen was thick with silence. I stared out the window at the grey autumnal streets, thinking of how Charlotte had transformed from the lively girl I knew into someone consumed by pride and desperation.

Later, Dad spoke quietly, You did right not letting us sell the flat, son. We always coddled Charlotte, forgave her. Its a lesson for all of us.

A month later Charlotte returned, thinner, the baby bump still prominent, wearing a plain dress, no makeup. She sat in the hallway and burst into tears.

Im sorry, she sobbed. You did so much for me, and I repaid you with nothing.

Mum rushed to her, Itll be alright. Youll pull through.

I watched the onceconfident sister, now humbled, sitting in worn shoes, eyes red but sincere.

Alright then, I said, finally. Lets move on. Live like everyone else, no more pretence.

She sniffed, Thank you for not letting the flat go. You were rightwe must manage our own lives.

That evening we all stayed at the kitchen table. Charlotte recounted the collapsestore after store shuttering, Mark prowling the town for cash, sleepless nights worrying about the future.

I thought we were special because we had money, she admitted. Now I see I was wrong. Mark is delivering freight now, Ill start at the shopping centre. Were just ordinary people.

I smiled, Nothing wrong with that. I keep driving my routes, and Im grateful.

A year later, Charlotte gave birth to a healthy boy. Mark continues as a freight forwarder, often away but always returning with groceries. Charlotte works from home as a copywriter, even won a quarterly award.

One evening I drove back after a long haul and stopped by their house. The kids were busy building a fort of cushions.

Come in, brother, have some soup, Charlotte called.

Just a quick minute, I replied, pulling a bag of sweets and toys from my satchel. The older kids squealed and ran to me.

You always spoil them, she laughed.

What can I say? Theyre good lads, I answered, tossing a toy to the youngest.

Later, when the children were upstairs, Charlotte poured me tea.

Ed, I wanted to ask you about the company Transoil. Theyre offering Mark a better salary.

Its a solid firm, I said. They pay on time.

Ill tell him, but hes scared of change after his own business went down.

Understandable, but the pays decent.

She fell quiet, then said, I walked past our old shops the other day. Theyre now a pharmacy chain. It almost feels like another life.

Exactly, I replied, sipping my tea. Youre living normally now. Work, kids, a roof over your head.

The next day I visited Mum and Dad. Dad was still reading the paper, Mum tending to her herb windowsill.

Ed, have a seat, Dad said, setting the paper aside. Mum and I have talked.

Just get to the point, Dad.

Weve decided to give you a bit of money for a deposit on a mortgage. Weve saved a little from the pension and my garden yields.

What? Youre giving me money? I stood up, startled. From where?

Dont argue with your father, Mum interjected. We see youve been scrimping for ages. Our pensions coming in, we can spare a bit.

I hesitated, then thoughtwhy keep renting flat after years of moving? I accepted.

Two weeks later I found a modest onebed flat not far from work. Mum and Dad helped with the first payment, the rest I arranged through a mortgage.

This is your own little corner now, Mum said as we moved boxes. No more endless rentals.

Im fine, Mum, I replied, wiping sweat from my brow.

Charlotte dropped by with curtains and cookware. A little housewarming gift from us, she said.

Thanks, but Ive got enough, I said, laughing.

She shrugged, You were right to shout at me that day. I was being selfish. Ive learned that.

Forget it, I waved her off. The important thing is youve realised it.

That night, alone in my new flat, the citys hum outside my window, the kettle whistling, I smiled. Id bought a place, patched things up with my sister, and Mum and Dad still have their cosy twobed. I still swing by on weekends with groceries, and Mum always insists on packing me a sandwich.

Lesson learned: family isnt measured in bricks and mortgaged flats, but in the willingness to stand beside each other when the walls start to crumble.