Betrayal by One’s Own Children
Wednesday again, and I found myself watching in quiet admiration as my brother and sister received yet another round of applause. They always looked so marvelloustall, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. The whole assembly hall seemed to adore them whenever they won anything. Today was no exception. As their names were called out for their latest victory at the district sports competition, I hurried to be the first to congratulate them.
Despite my pronounced limp and the extra weight I still hadn’t managed to shed, I was determined. I clutched two knitted rabbits Id made myselfone in a skirt, another in checkered trousers. I wanted to hand them over, a silly smile plastered on my face, my barely-there hair pinned back as best I could. Bethany and Thomas carried on, pretending as usual that I didnt exist.
Excuse me, please, thats my brother and sister! Let me through, please! I called out hopefully.
Bethany’s friend, a pretty blonde girl named Sophie, glanced at me and turned to Bethany with a snort, Beth, who is that? That chubby girl shouting that she’s your sister. Is that true?
Bethany glanced over her shoulder, barely concealing her frustration. In her mind, I was simply a disgracea fat, awkward embarrassment. Aloud, she replied, No, of course not. I only have my brother, Thomas. No idea who she is.
Sophie scoffed, Thought so. Must want to tag along, poor thing. And shes trying to give you those daft toys too, and giggled.
Bethany played along, Must be one of our schools groupies. Sophie, just take the toys from her for me, will you? Thomas and I have a winners interview to get to. Bethany blew a theatrical kiss and whisked Thomas away by the hand.
Sophie dutifully took the rabbits from me, saying shed pass them along.
Lovely! Ill have cakes waiting for you both at home! I chirped, limping away as quickly as I could manage.
Handing Bethany the soft toys, Sophie rolled her eyes. She said shell be waiting at home, baking scones. She looks like a scone herself. Are you absolutely sure youre not related?
Bethany simply dismissed her, Of course not! People are always trying to get close to us for the fame. Lets go! Without a backward glance, she tossed the rabbits into the nearest bin, and the three of them swept off for their prize-giving.
In truth, Bethany had lied. I really was her sisterher stepsister, technically. Our mother, Patricia Wilkinson, took me in when my distant relativea cousin’s aunt from Yorkshirepassed away unexpectedly, leaving me alone and hurt. Mum always insisted, Shes family, after all, even if its by a thread.
Bethany and Thomas resented the arrangement from the start. Theyd grown up spoiled rotten, their every whim indulged. When Mum told them theyd have a new sister, they howled in protest.
Mum, dont bring her here! Shes fat, she limps, and shes embarrassing!
Its only kind, my loves. People take in stray dogs and cats, after all. Our house is more than big enough, Mum tried to reason.
Reluctantly, they agreednot least because the main income came from Mum running the familys grocery store, while Dada genial man named Richardserved as her deputy, taking things easy and thinking more about his side interests than about family affairs. If Patricia suspected his infidelities, she never saidshe adored her handsome Richard too much.
I grew up tucking myself in at the fringeslittle, awkward, with thin wisps of blond hair and those same pale blue eyes, almost transparent like watered-down milk, as Bethany once sneered.
She looks like a doughy rollsoft and round. Fatty! Bethany would laugh.
They never included me in their games. If anything went wrong, it was always dumped on me. Thomas broke an expensive vase once; Bethany blamed me. She tore Mums fancy blouse trying it on, snagged it, and that too was pinned on me.
I never argued or protested. I simply nodded and apologised, not wanting them to face punishment. They were so lovely, after all.
Mum never scolded me, but Dad would often grumble, Whyd you bring that fright into our house? Makes us look bad, can barely walk properly, weighs a ton. We have two stunners for children and now this misfit! When she’s grown, whod ever want her?
Id overhear those words and stand in front of my mirror, silently wishing I could be as beautiful as Bethany and Thomas.
By the time school came round, Bethany and Thomas insisted I be sent to a different one, threatening to skip lessons and ruin their grades if I wasnt. Mum, worn thin, gave in, feeling the fragile bridge she tried so hard to build between us crumbling.
As the years passed, Thomas and Bethany both left for university. I asked if I might stay home.
You can get into any college you want, love, Ill pay for itdesigner, translator, whatever you wish! Mum pressed me to her, craving affection.
Quietly, I replied, Mum, could I train as a vet instead? For the animals? I could stay and study locally.
It made senseI was forever bringing home stray kittens and pups to nurse back to health. One stayed with usa big, shaggy mongrel called Baxter. Bethany complained he wasnt pedigreed, but Mum saw how happy he made me.
Life carried on. Mums health faltered, and soon she was forced to leave work. Dad wasted no time moving in with her best friend, the local hairdresser, as soon as he realised the family income was drying up.
Bethany and Thomas, meanwhile, only phoned when they needed a top-up from Mums savings. Through it all, I was the only one left, hobbling around baking treats and making Mum tea in the evenings. Wed sit together in the garden beneath the apple tree, the world seeming to fade away.
Eventually, Bethany and Thomas settled down and started families of their own. Mum helped each buy a house. But then disaster struck. Thomas turned up at four in the morning, ashen-faced.
Mum, Im deep in debt. I need a huge amount of money, he sobbed.
Mum panicked, Where will we get that? Have you asked your father? Even if I give you everything, it wouldnt be enough. What can we do?
Thomas, ever pragmatic, suggested we sell the family cottage. That, plus everything else, and Ill be in the clear.
But how will we live? Where will Dottie and I go? Mum asked, horrified.
What happens to that silly lump is none of my concern. Shes an adultshell find her own way. You come live with me and Laurashell be thrilled! Thomas said, but I could see Mum doubted Lauras supposed enthusiasm.
Mum agreed on one conditionI had to come with her. Thomas reluctantly agreed. Later, I took Mum aside and said softly, You go by yourself, Mum. Ill be moving in with a friend. Dont worry about me.
Mums face lit up, Who is he? Why didnt you tell me? I only hugged her closer, Youll meet later, promise. Dont worry.
Truthfully, there was no one. My intuition told me I wouldnt be welcome, and I didnt want Mum to be anxiousshe already had enough on her plate.
I rented a room from Mr. Arthur, a kind-hearted widower with chickens, goats, and pigs. Discovering I was a vet, he insisted I pay no rent, though I always found the money back in my purse somehow.
My new life suited me. I had work, somewhere to live, people respected me, and the animals adored menever fearful, always trusting. After giving them their jabs or dressing their wounds, Id reward them with treats from my own wages.
Here you are, Max! Good boy. Dont worry, just a little drop. Ring me if theres any trouble! Id tell the owners.
Dear, the staff at the surgery dont make me feel so welcome as you do with my Jasper! Mrs. Goodwin, owner of a magnificent tabby, once told me.
Despite feeling settled, I worried for Mum. She rarely answered the phone, and when she did, Thomas was curt, saying she was resting.
One night, over tea with Mr. Arthur, I sighed, I havent seen her in six months. I do miss her.
He offered, Why dont we visit? Ill drivemy old Fords still running, you know, and Ive got my licence. Lets go!
We travelled to Thomass home. At the door, Laura answered in a silk dressing gown.
Can I help you? Were not buying, thank you, she tried to shut the door.
I hurried, You must be Laura, Thomass wife? Im Dottiehis sisterand this is Mr. Arthur. May we see Mum?
She rolled her eyes, Dont know where she isThomas moved her to a nursing home. Shes not well, you see. No idea which one, its not my concern. Let me ask him, she called Thomas, took down the address, and handed it over, And please, dont come back, she added coolly.
I was stunned, clutching the address. Why didnt anyone tell me? Surely, there must have been a way I muttered.
She should have come with us, Mr. Arthur fumed. My house is more than big enough, another empty room just sitting there. They ought to have told you!
With heavy hearts, we found the care home. I barely recognised Mumfrail and thin, so different from the robust, bustling woman shed always been.
Mum, its me, Dottie! Oh, Mum, Im so sorry I havent visited. But finally, well go home together. Arthur keeps chickensyoull have proper eggs, and fresh goats milk. Please, let me take care of you. I love you so much
It took some persuasion, but since I was her daughter legally, and Mr. Arthurwho claimed he had connections with an army general, a remnant of his tales from the Warsupported me, we were allowed to bring Mum home, despite Thomas’s arrangements otherwise.
Mum found her feet again within a fortnight. I caught her at the window one morning, drawn by the scent of fresh bread and the sight of hens pecking about. I hurried in, limping as always, to find her crying softly. Awkwardly, I hugged her, apologising for not being there, for making her live with me instead of the perfect children.
She just clung to me silently, as though seeing not an awkward stepsister, but the same kindly little girl she had once taken into her home.
Never mind, Dottie. We have each other now, love. Thats what truly matters, she whispered.
Ladies! Shall we have a nice cuppa? Mr. Arthur called out, popping his head through the door.
We laughed, all three together, linked by the hands, ready for a new chapter.
That evening, jotting all this down, I realised what matters at the end: It isnt looks, or wealth, or even bloodits loyalty, kindness, and who stays by your side when you need them most.
