When Helen heard the creak of the front door, her heart raced—her husband was back from his long-haul trip. Brian always brought her something—perfume one time, a dress another, or just sweets from some far-off place. Eagerly, she rushed into the hallway… and froze. Behind Brian stood a woman—someone she’d never seen before—bold, brash, and utterly unapologetic.
“Meet Nina,” Brian said, as casually as if he were handing her a cup of tea. “She’ll be staying with us now.”
Helen just stared, dumbstruck, as the stranger wandered into the bathroom like she owned the place. Moments later, she emerged wearing Helen’s dressing gown and her favourite towel wrapped around her head.
“What are you gawping at? I’m starving! And your husband’ll be in soon,” Nina muttered, brushing past her.
Helen clenched her fists, seething, but bit her tongue. The flat was in Brian’s name—he’d bought it before they married. Legally, she had no claim, wife or not.
Up until then, Helen’s life had been like something out of a fairy tale. Brian earned well, so she didn’t work, spending her days pampered and pampering herself—manicures, little luxuries, endless complaints. Their friends joked that Brian took up lorry driving just to get some peace. But he loved her—Helen never doubted that.
And now… this. Nina. Grey-haired, rough around the edges, at least fifteen years older. What on earth did he see in her?
“Oi, you deaf? I said I’m hungry!” Nina barked from the kitchen.
Silently, Helen went to boil some frozen dumplings. She set a plate in front of Nina but had barely turned to fetch Brian’s stuffed cabbage when—
“Seriously? Feeding your husband this rubbish? And me too?” With a scoff, Nina flung open the window and tossed the dumplings straight into the garden.
“What are you *doing*?!” Helen shrieked.
“The neighbours’ cat’ll have ‘em. Go make some proper food, yeah?” Nina waved her off and went to watch telly.
When Brian came in, Helen dragged him into the kitchen, tears in her eyes.
“Get rid of her! Who *is* she? Why did you bring her here? She—she threw out my dinner!” she sobbed.
But then Nina walked in.
“Brian, why’re you listening to her? You’ve got a nice place, good money—and she can’t even cook you a decent meal. Spoilt little thing, all she does is complain.”
“I *am* the lady of this house!” Helen snapped.
“Not for long,” Nina smirked and left with Brian to the shops.
That night, Nina made borscht and pasta with mince. Helen refused to touch it—until the next day, when she ate every bite. The woman *could* cook. Helen, meanwhile, was as useless at the stove as a fish on a bicycle.
Then it hit her—if she didn’t change, she’d lose everything. She started learning to cook, stopped shouting, forced herself to be patient. Even confided in her friend:
“She’s taking everything! The flat’s his, the money’s his, now *he’s* hers!”
“Kick her out!” her mate Lizzie burst out. “If my Dave pulled a stunt like this—”
“Your house is joint; mine’s all his! And your Dave’s living off *my* money anyway!” Helen cried.
“Cheers for that, *mate*,” Lizzie huffed. “Then go back to your precious Brian and his bloody Nina!”
Yet Brian acted like nothing was wrong—he still looked at Helen with the same tenderness, just refused to talk about Nina. Soon, Nina got a job at a corner shop.
And that’s when Helen had her idea. A baby. Before, she’d never wanted kids—her figure, her freedom, motherhood *wasn’t her*. Now, she saw it as her last chance.
When she told Brian, his face lit up. He hugged her tight:
“About time. Just raise ‘em right. Or they’ll kick you out like they did me.”
“Kicked me out,” Nina cut in. “Looked after my husband’s sons like they were my own. Then he died, and they tossed me out. Gave ‘em everything, and they—”
For the first time, Helen felt something other than anger. Sympathy. She even asked:
“What happened after?”
“Hit the bottle. Couldn’t see the point. Then your man pulled up. I was stepping into traffic—he braked just in time. We talked, and he offered me a place. Said there were still good people out there.”
That evening, they ate together—no shouting. Helen didn’t want Nina gone anymore. She even started to respect her.
Then Brian’s uncle visited from the countryside. He kept eyeing Nina, and when it was time to leave, he said:
“Nina, come with me. At our age, no time to waste.”
“Thanks for the kindness,” Nina smiled. “But life’s got more for me yet. Can’t run from fate.”
Helen felt an odd pang when Nina left—she’d become family. Then their daughter was born, and Helen was a new woman. She even asked Nina to be godmother. Now every summer, they visit her in the countryside—fresh air, love, everything.
And Brian looks at his wife, hardly recognising her—calm, caring, capable. He tells his mates with a grin:
“That’s all Nina. She changed us all.”
Funny, isn’t it? The woman who walked in uninvited ended up being the one who saved them.
