A Flat for Two? Count Me Out!

A flat for two? Not me!
Ill transfer the flat into Poppys name and move in with you. Youre living alone anyway, says Nora, not waiting for a reply.

Whose deep voice is that on the line? Her tone is sharp, as if Rosie were thirteen, not thirtytwo.

Just the telly, Mum. What do you want? Rosie tries to end the chat quickly.

We need to talk. Seriously, her mother insists, then hangs up. Typical for her she points out problems but never asks anything.

Arthur! Rosie shouts, tossing her phone onto the sofa.

Whats happened? He steps out of the kitchen, two mugs of tea in his hands.

My mums coming this evening.

Do you want me to stay?

No, thanks. Ill handle it on my own.

**Ghosts of the past**

Memories sit like photos in an album some fade, but the core stays clear. Rosie is eleven when her parents split. Her sister Poppy still plays with dolls, while Rosie has already learned to read between adults lines.

I cant go on, Maggie, her father says. Its no longer a marriage, just a shadow of one.

And the children? Her mothers voice clinks like glass.

After the divorce, Dad quietly packs his things. His favourite armchair, the chipped mug, even his books disappear one by one.

Rosie becomes the bridge between two worlds: Mums sternness and Dads calm. Poppy simply decides that Dad is a traitor and Mum a martyr.

**Adult life**

Rosie moves to London for university. She studies hard, works harder determined to own her own flat one day. Poppy takes a few courses, becomes a nail technician, and marries almost immediately.

Dad passes away, leaving only fond memories and a hollow feeling.

Mum only contacts them to demand money or complain:

Poppys pregnant, help her out. James earns little, and the salon doesnt even give her a proper contract

Rosie sighs, exhausted.

She knew what she was signing up for. That was her choice.

**Their own nest**

A few years later, Rosie finally buys her dream flat. All on her own, with sweat and tears.

Lovely flat, her mother remarks, looking around. Poppy could really use something like this instead of a student hall with a baby And youre sitting here all by yourself in this palace. Its not fair.

Because Poppy always thought she was owed something. Ive worked for this.

Years later, a surprise visit arrives:

Ive decided the flat goes to Poppy. Ill move in with you, her mother says with a smile, scanning every corner.

No, Rosie replies curtly. This is my flat.

What do you mean no? Ive already decided!

Then live with Poppy. This isnt a hotel.

Youre as cold as your father!

Thanks. He loved me and never set conditions.

The door slams shut. Silence and relief linger.

On her phone a message blinks:

How did it go?

Rosie smiles and types back:

Come over. Ill teach you how to make tiramisu.