Kicked Out My Little Sister

The silence in the flat was torn apart by the highpitched whine of yet another tin can being smashed open the third one the brother had pried apart that morning. Emily pressed her forehead against the cold windowpane, watching the snowdriven gale outside swallow the outlines of a world that was supposed to settle down for the evening. It wasnt a gentle snowfall; it was a white, merciless wall, and Emily felt that if she stepped into it she might simply vanish. Perhaps that would have been a blessing.

Can we send someone else to Aunt Lindas? she asked, her voice sounding as if it came from another dimension.

June, her mother, was stuffing clothes into a travel bag with frantic efficiency, sighing in irritation as she fumbled with straps and zippers.

Do you even realise what youre asking? Shes practically a second mother to me. I cant just leave her alone in a mess like this. And youre not staying by yourself either you have Arthur.

Exactly. Arthur, Emily replied without turning, so June wouldnt see the betrayal glint in her eyes.

So Ill be stuck with him for the whole holiday? Two whole weeks?

Good heavens, what has he ever done to you? Hes older, so he must be wiser. Youre not a child any more, yet youre scared of him like hes a monster under the bed!

June snapped the bags zip shut, a chill running down Emilys spine. Being left alone with a brother who despised her, while Mother pretended nothing was wrong, made the room feel like a pressure cooker. She stole a glance at the bookshelf, at the battered leatherbound volume of travel tales. Between its pages lay a ticket to another life or at least thats what it seemed.

June strutted over to the window and thrust a handful of notes into Emilys hand.

The main cash is in the jewelry box in the study. Arthur knows about it. This this is for emergencies. Youre sensible, after all.

Emily nodded, still staring at the book, fingers clutching the money. June, as if reading her mind, lunged for the same book. Emily tried to speak, leaning forward, but June was faster. In the next heartbeat June held an envelope that had been tucked between the pages all along.

Where did you get this? This letter is a century old! Junes voice trembled with alarm.

Emilys cheeks flushed.

Mum, could I maybe go to Dad while youre away? she whispered, but the look on Junes face crumbled any naïve fantasies she had.

June snorted, shoved the envelope back into the book and tossed it aside.

Dad? You think hell be waiting with open arms? Maybe his trails gone cold at that address. She slung the bag over her shoulder and stalked toward the hallway. Listen, Im busy. Time to run. Ill be back later and we can talk. Aunt Lindas number is in my diary only call if its an absolute emergency.

The door slammed, leaving a hollow echo in the hallway. Almost instantly Arthur appeared, reeking of cheap booze and something sharper.

Alright, sis, Mums off. Now youre under my wing, he yawned lazily, a mischievous spark in his eyes. By the way, how much pocket money did Mum slip you?

Moneys in the box, Emily muttered, trying to slip into her room, but Arthur blocked the door.

Im talking about the emergency stash. Think I didnt hear that? Dont try to fool me.

Youll never see it!

Right you are! He lunged, and Emily ducked under his arm, bolting into her bedroom and locking the door.

That evening the flat rang with blaring music, the raucous laughter of Arthurs friends, and a sticky, alcoholic haze that clung to the walls. Behind the locked door Emily felt around her bag, assembling a desperate plan: at first light she would head for the address scribbled on the yellowed envelope, anywhere but here.

She was dozing off when the door burst open. Arthur stood there with a girl on his arm.

Clear the room, we need to talk to Emily, he said, his eyes as cold as a winter window.

In a flash, his iron grip, a shove, and a slam of the door sent her sprawling onto the cold concrete of the stairwell. He laughed, slurred, Scram, you little mouse!

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she huddled on the steps, clutching her boots. A voice cut through the night:

Why are you standing out here shivering?

A man in a bulky coat stood before her, his face oddly familiar. It was Nigel, a neighbour theyd both known for years, though hed disappeared for ages.

Brother kicked me out, Emily sniffed.

And Mum?

Gone.

For how long?

About two weeks.

Nigel shook his head, offering a grim smile. Well, pull yourself together. Youll catch a cold standing like that. Come in, warm up a bit. Im Nigel, your flatmate. Ive known you since you were a toddler.

His flat was sparsely furnished, smelling of stale meals and loneliness. While a pot of spaghetti and canned stew simmered, Emily, still trembling, laid out her frantic scheme to find her father using the address on the envelope.

Nigel raised an eyebrow, sliding a plate over to her.

Dont catch a fever. Well get through the night, and tomorrow well see what we can do. Ive had a brother too a proper nightmare. I get it.

He set her on an old sofa, and that night became the line between two lives. Emily drifted into bizarre dreams, fleeing her brothers glassy stare, only to wake in Nigels modest, if not cosy, living room.

Thus began an odd friendship. Whenever the flat filled with drunken shouts, Nigel would listen, sometimes sharing fragments of his own wandering past a story about a family that vanished like fog. He became her quiet harbour, a steady anchor in a stormy sea.

The final straw came when Arthur, unable to locate the jewellery box, launched a fullblown interrogation, shouting threats. His hand rose for a hit, but Emily, heart thudding, twisted away and bolted into the stairwell.

Dont go, youll never find your way back! he roared after her.

Mum will be back and youll get whats coming to you! she shouted, sprinting toward Nigels door.

May you never set foot in this hallway again! Arthurs voice echoed behind her.

Nigel opened the door even before she knocked. He took in her tearstreaked face, the tiny backpack clutched to her chest, and let her in without a word.

Alright, I cant go back there, she gasped, feeling the weight lift from her shoulders.

He nodded, his gaze serious yet kind.

Then stay here until Mum returns. After that well, well see what the future brings.

He shut the door, leaving behind not just a noisy brother but an entire era of fear and solitude. Beyond that door something new began, and for the first time in ages Emily felt that this new might not be as terrifying as shed imagined.

***

Nigel awoke from a dream that had cracked through the thin ceiling of his mind. He stared at the darkening sky, hearing a familiar, bitter sob that sounded like a campfires last crackle. Emily again? he wondered.

The past few days had left him walking a tightrope of splitpersonality. The town, steeped in memories of past mistakes, pressed down on him. Six months of freedom after his last runin with the law hadnt been enough to catch his breath. His exwife had vanished years ago, erasing herself from his life. His plan was simple: head to an old friend, disappear into the countryside, start over. Then this girl appeared, like a stray kitten at his doorstep, making him question his escape. He felt a pang of pity for her and a primal fear of getting tangled in anyones problems.

A tentative knock sounded at his door.

Uncle Nigel, I know youre leaving. I saw your suitcase. Take me with you. I need to see my dad. Heres the address. She thrust a crumpled slip of paper at him, and Nigel whistled softly, watching his carefully laid plans crumble under her gaze.

I cant stay. Arthurs gone feral, and Mum only appears when she needs a meal or the flat tidied. Youll get me to the train, and then Ill be on my own! she pleaded, her voice shaking.

Emily, are you out of your mind? What if Im blamed for kidnapping you? he protested, but her huge, watery eyes softened his resolve. Fine, I wont abandon you. Does your dad know youre coming?

She nodded quickly, turning to the window. A lie hung heavy between them, unspoken but palpable. She had to find him, no matter what.

Thank you, Uncle Nigel! she exhaled, hope flickering in her voice.

Give your dad a call, let him know, he said wearily, already sensing the call would never happen.

The train carriage smelled of boiled potatoes, sausage, and dust. Outside, twilight painted the snowy fields in ghostly shades. Emilys heart thumped between nerves and excitement soon she would finally meet the man shed only known from stories. Would he be kind? Would he love her?

Unable to leave her alone, Nigel bought tickets to the town where Emilys father supposedly lived, planning to drop her off and head back. While she slept, a crumpled note fell from a high shelf onto the floor. Nigel picked it up and, despite himself, read it:

Dear Vera, happy birthday. Sorry everything turned silly. Kiss my daughter for me. Love, Peter.

He folded the letter carefully and, when Emily awoke, handed it to her.

Sorry, I didnt mean to read it. Its from him?

She nodded silently.

Did you call him? Is he waiting?

She shook her head.

No. I only have the address. Ive never seen him.

Nigel let out a sigh. Blimey, Im a fool! Are you sure hes still there?

Mom said he might have moved, but I feel hed protect me! she whispered, faith trembling on the edge of desperation.

He only could watch her tuck the paper away, wondering how his own life might have been different if hed taken a steadier path. Perhaps a family would have been waiting too.

At last they reached the address, a rundown flat in a council estate on the outskirts. The door creaked open to reveal a gaunt man with a tired face, the smell of cheap whiskey and stale air hanging around him.

Are you Igor Saville? Nigel asked.

Yes. What business is this? the man replied, eyeing them suspiciously.

Were here about a personal matter. May we come in? Nigel stepped forward.

The apartment was a dim, chaotic mess. Igor pushed aside empty cans and gestured for them to sit.

Do you know Vera? Emily asked, her legs feeling like jelly.

Vera Saville? he frowned, trying to recall. Ah, the cook we met a few times. She said she was pregnant, I I wasnt ready for a child. He paused, then stared at Emily.

Im your daughter, she declared.

His face twisted into a mixture of disgust and surprise.

What do you want from me?

The world seemed to collapse. Emily bolted, running out of the flat as fast as her legs could carry her. Nigel caught up outside, her sobs ripping through the night.

I dont want to live, Uncle Nigel! Nobody needs me! I found him and lost him! she wailed.

Hold on, Emily! Dont say that. Lifes a pendulum it swings one way, then the other. Youre still a child, with a whole life ahead. Fate isnt cruel to brave souls like you. Happiness and love will find you, he tried to soothe her.

Please call Mum, she sniffed, her voice breaking. Shes probably losing it back home.

Soon after, Vera arrived on the first available flight. In the airport, she seized her daughter, hugging her for what felt like an eternity. Her eyes were red from sleepless nights, but the embrace held an entire universe.

Darling, why didnt you call? I was about to call the police Vera whispered, glancing at Nigel standing a short distance away. He wasnt a threat, was he?

No, Mum. Hes a good man, better than any father I could have had, Emily replied, a small smile cracking through her tears.

The plane climbed, the sunset spilling amber light across the cabin. Below, Nigel watched the world recede, his own path now clearly leading to honest work and perhaps a fresh start. He promised to keep in touch.

Well send Artem to that clinic you mentioned. Hes with Aunt Linda now. Hell never touch you again. Im sorry I didnt see it sooner, Vera said, voice trembling.

Its alright, Mum. Well get through this. The important thing is were together, Emily answered, looking out at the clouds drifting below.

Months later a letter arrived, its envelope rough to the touch, the handwriting shaky yet firm. It was from Nigel, describing a modest job, a roof over his head, and the simple truth that happiness doesnt require much. Emily read it again, pressed it to her chest, and gazed out the window at the first autumn leaves swirling in the breeze. Her heart felt light and calm. The road home had been longer than shed imagined, but she had finally found what shed been searching for not the phantom father of childhood fantasies, but a steady, reliable harbour waiting for her all along. She sat down at her kitchen table, ready to write her reply.