Don’t Tell Me How to Live My Life

Dont Tell Me How to Live
Harriet, let me go! I cant live with them anymore. Its not a home, its a prison, sobbed the younger sister, standing in the hallway.
Eloise looked like a runaway bride. Mascara streaked down her cheeks, lips quivering In her hand was the battered handle of a massive suitcase with wheels.
Hold on, wait a minute Harriet yawned, barely awake, and reluctantly stepped aside. Whats happened?
They suffocate me, Harriet! You dont know what its like. Yesterday I got home at ten instead of nine, and Dad gave me a full-on interrogation and sniffed me like a bloodhound! Mum still hasnt learnt to knock. She barges in when Im changing, hanging out with friends, just chatting I have zero privacy!
Eloise was rattling on, breathless with anger. Her complaints carried weight. At twenty, constant parental surveillance really does feel like hell. Who wants their parents checking pockets, barging in unannounced, and demanding an account for every step?
Dont go there, dont eat that, dont be friends with them! Eloise continued. Im not ten anymore. Im grown up. I have a right to live as I please, not as suits them. Today I said Id stay at a friends to study for exams, and Dad declared: No sleepovers, study at home. Is that normal? Am I in year five?
Harriet listened patiently, feeling a flicker of sympathy. Their parents truly were old-fashioned and overly anxious.
Well, Harriet had been through it herself. At twenty, she rebelled in her own way. She hated how Dad waited by the window till eleven, and Mum fussed if she had her hat. But Harriet solved it in her own way.
Im switching to part-time studies, she announced seven years ago. And moving out.
Where to? How will you afford it? Mum gasped.
My mate works at a salon, they need a receptionist. Well rent a room with two other girls. Well manage. If I cant, Ill come back.
Harriet managed. With difficulty, but still. For six months, she lived on plain rice and slept on a lumpy sofa, but no one told her when to go to bed. Parents tried to help with money, groceries, but Harriet refused with pride.
Im fine. Ill do it myself, she would say.
That was when she was given keys to Grandmas two-bedroom flat. More than a gift, it was recognition of her responsibility.
For Eloise, things were different.
Two years ago, her other grandmother passed away. Eloise inherited the flat. She had just turned eighteen.
Well, thats it! Eloise proclaimed as soon as she got the inheritance. Im now the catch of the season, Ive got a dowry. I can live on my own!
Her parents exchanged surprised glances.
Well, fair enough, Dad replied at the time. The flats yours. Utilities in winter at least £150 if youre careful. Food depends, but about £250. Transport, clothes, makeup, internet To live separately and keep paying for studies, youll need at least £1,000 a month. Where will you get that?
Eloise fluttered her eyelashes. Nothing to say. She believed she was already doing the world a favour by studying at her parents expense.
That was the end of it. Not that Eloise objected much, she wasnt in a hurry to move. But something else rankled. Her parents started renting out her flat and took the money for themselves: to pay for her studies, bills, food, clothes. Sometimes shed get pocket money, but she still complained. She wanted to live in her own place, doing nothing.
Harriet, recalling the arguments, looked closer at her sister. New coat, leather boots, stylish handbag Eloise hardly seemed a victim of jailers. More like a princess annoyed by a pea beneath ten mattresses.
They took away my car keys, Eloise added, wiping her tears. Said until I cleared my overdue assignments, I had to use the bus. Can you imagine? The bus! You wait at least half an hour!
How dreadful, Harriet said dryly, watching Eloise lug her suitcase inside. So, whats your plan now?
Her sympathy was evaporating fast.
Ill stay with you. Until they calm down and apologise. Youve got a two-bed, plenty of room. I promise I wont be a bother, Ill quietly keep to myself and study
Harriet pursed her lips. She didnt want to complain about her sister, but something wasnt right.
Eloise, she sighed. Lets have a serious talk. You want to live like me? Without control, questions, curfew?
Of course! Eloises eyes brightened. I want to decide for myself when to come home, what to wear.
Perfect. Then why didnt you rent a flat for yourself, or a room in halls?
Eloise blinked, confused. The question seemed absurd to her.
What do you mean? I dont have money. Im a student.
Exactly. Youre a full-time student, living off your parents. Eating their food, wearing clothes bought by them, driving a car Dad pays to maintain, Harriet began counting off on her fingers. You know, freedom comes at a price. When I was your age, I worked and studied. You want to have your cake and eat it too.
You Youre not going to let me stay?
Harriet sighed. She didnt want to get involved, but had little choice.
First, Ill phone Mum, she decided. I want to hear her side too.
Eloise hesitated but couldnt stop her.
It was late, but Mum was still up. The conversation turned heated; soon Harriet switched to speaker. It turned out the parents had confiscated Eloises keys and limited her outings because she wasnt just behind on assignments she was facing expulsion.
The lecturers are biased! They dont like girls! Eloise protested, blushing.
Funny, the others all submitted their work, but you didnt, Dad retorted. What, you thought youre clever? Planning to mooch off your sister and idle away?
Dads right, Harriet glanced at Eloise. I dont shelter overdue students here. And I wont play nanny.
Eloise shot her a furious glare.
Oh, so everyones against me? Fine! Ill live in my own flat! Kick out the tenants. Ill live there alone and no one will say a word.
Silence fell. Eloise raised her chin triumphantly, thinking shed cornered her parents.
Very well, Mum replied calmly. No problem.
Eloise nearly jumped up.
Really? Youll kick them out? Tomorrow?
Not tomorrow, as per the contract, Dad said. Theyll have two weeks to move. Youll stay with us for now, finish the semester. But, Eloise You do mean youll live independently now?
Um, yes, Eloise squinted, uncertain.
Well no longer get rental income, so Dad paused to let it sink in. Youll pay for your studies yourself. For bills in your own flat yourself. Food, clothes, everything. We wont give you a penny. Youre an adult, so live like one.
Eloises face froze in shock. She must have thought theyd keep helping to avoid conflict.
But but Im studying! I cant work! Full-time, remember!
Harriet studied too, Mum reminded her. She switched to part-time and got a job. Up to you, love. You want to live on your own? Go ahead. But all expenses are yours. Or, you stay with us, follow our rules, and well support you. No third option.
Eloise looked to Harriet, seeking some support; she only got a sardonic smile.
Well, sister? Harriet smirked. Welcome to adulthood. Turns out the cake has a lot of crust, doesnt it?
Six months passed. Contact with Eloise dwindled to formal exchanges about well-being, no real substance. Harriet only knew Eloise no longer lived with her parents, and didnt pry further afraid shed try the guilt card again.
One rainy day, Harriet popped into a coffee shop near the city park. Eloise stood behind the counter.
You wanted a medium cappuccino, no sugar? Eloise asked, tired but polite.
She looked quite different now. No false lashes reaching her eyebrows, no sparkling manicures. Nails trimmed short café hygiene, nothing to be done. Instead of a branded hoodie, a cafés green apron and name badge. Shadows gathered under her eyes, visible even through concealer.
Hello, Harriet smiled, feeling a strange mix of pity and admiration. Yes. And a croissant, if its fresh.
Eloise nodded without smiling and got to work.
Fresh. Arrived this morning.
She moved briskly, no more lounging. Now she had to go with the flow, not demand the world stop for her.
Hows your studies? Harriet asked as Eloise frothed milk.
Sorted, Eloise muttered. Switched to part-time. Its easier. By the way, Mum phoned, asked if I needed groceries. I said no. Im managing.
Harriet raised her eyebrows.
When did you get so proud?
Not proud, just sensible. If I take groceries, theyll start inspecting, nagging about dust on shelves and unwashed floors. Id rather have porridge with water than deal with that.
Harriet chuckled. Eloise placed the cup on the counter.
Thatll be £3.50.
Harriet tapped her card. The machine beeped.
Is it tough? her older sister asked quietly.
Eloise froze for a moment. In her eyes flickered that same childish innocence shed had six months ago, suitcase in hand. But she rallied herself instantly.
Its alright. At least no one lectures me. Sold the car, by the way. Tubes quicker. And cheaper.
Youre doing great, Ellie. Truly.
Eloise gave her a crooked smirk.
Yeah. Great. Sometimes I fall asleep right here though. Anyway, youd best go, or Ill get docked wages for chatting.
Harriet took a seat by the window. She watched her sister scrub the counter until it gleamed.
Well, she got what she wanted: an adult life, free from parental control. And it wasnt so bad. Its just that the cake, as so often happens, turned out to have some tough crusts, and now every bite had to be carefully chewed.
Harriet finished her coffee, pulled out a crisp fifty-pound note, tucked it under the napkin, and carried her dishes to the counter before leaving.
It wasnt a handout for a poor relation. It was a tip for a good barista, who at last was learning to balance expectations and reality.