The Price of Arrogance
Emma, could you lend me a couple of things? I heard my younger sister, Alice, plead softly as she stepped into my comfortable London flat.
She couldnt help but pause, taking in the wide entrance, the tasteful settee, the full-length mirrors in their elegant gilt frames, the smart little footstool beside the dooreverything looked as though it belonged in a glossy interiors magazine. I saw the familiar flicker of envy in her eyes, though that made it no less sharp. Alice had always thought my life was picture-perfect.
I strolled out from the living room, studying her for a moment. Even in my cashmere loungewearsomething light grey and impossibly softI could tell by the look on her face that this wasnt just a passing request.
Go on. Whats the big secret? I said, leaning against the door frame.
Alice brushed at the sleeve of her coatnicely kept, but hardly fresh off the rack. She did her best not to look at the canvas print opposite, or to let her eyes linger on the uncluttered sideboard, or to comment on the smell of good coffee wafting through the flat.
It isnt anything major she mumbled, searching for words.
I didnt let my gaze drop, and after a pause Alice caved, letting her breath out in a rush:
Its just theres a school reunion this Saturdayeveryone will be there. And I have to look perfect! I want everyone to think Ive made it, you know? That my life is something out of a fairy tale.
Why though? I asked, finally glancing away. Whats the point in impressing people you havent spoken to in yearspeople youre unlikely to bump into ever again? You dont even live in the same county anymore!
Alice ran a hand through her hair. There was a wistful look in her eyes as though she wished her life was more like minemornings in a bright kitchen with a breakfast bar, integrated appliances, and stylish pendant lighting. A life that began with idle sips of decent coffee, not a scramble for the bus.
You dont understand! she burst out. I just I need them to see that everything worked out for me. I want them to know I succeeded. I just cant bear the thought that theyll think Imwellthat Im a failure.
She realised she was glaring at me openly, a twinge of jealousy obvious. If I noticed, I didnt let on.
Are you honestly going to try and pass yourself off as someone youre not? I asked, settling onto a kitchen stool. Do you think thats going to win anyone over?
Thats not it. Alices voice was a frustrated sigh. I just want my former classmates to think all my dreams have come true.
After a pause, she relented. Alright, lets see what Ive got in the wardrobe. But promise methis is the first and last time you put on a show just to fool people. Its well, its not very decent.
You just dont get it! Alice insisted.
And with that, she began her story…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at school, Alice was the star of our yeareveryone said so. There was always a trail of lads following her between lessons, each hoping theyd catch her attention for even a moment. The teachers, perhaps unintentionally, melted in her presence; that slightly wistful look of hers was strangely hypnotic, even to grown adults. To my parentswell, she could do no wrong. A raised eyebrow or a gentle sigh was all she needed to get what she wanted.
Alice always got her way. If she fancied the latest trainers to hit town, Mum would bring them home the next day in their box, ribbon and all. When a good-looking new boy joined our year, hed be walking her home in a week. She thrived on seeing how many boundaries she could push, how many wishes might be granted with next to no effort.
Because I can, she used to whisper to herself, like a mantra. That phrase became her excuse for anything. If a friend began talking to a boy Alice liked, shed waste no time making a play for himand she almost always got her way. She didnt really fall for these lads; it was about winning, about seeing if she could redirect even their feelings. The answer, generally, was yes.
Gradually, old friends slipped away. First one stopped inviting her out, then another found a different group. Alice barely blinkedthere were always admirers eager to be part of her inner circle. She treated it as a given: if someone couldnt keep up with her games, they werent worth her time.
At prom, she was the queen. The hall, decked with bunting and balloons, seemed her own personal palace. Classmates gathered round, desperate for a piece of her attention. She basked in the limelightexactly where shed always been.
She was giddy on admiration, on the feeling of rule over her tiny kingdom. That night, emboldened by their reverence, she let loose. When the conversation turned to memories, Alice launched into a broadside of sharp words at her classmates. She recounted old grievances, pointed out personal flaws, and tossed out scathing remarks about appearances. Words flowed easily, her eyes alight, eager to see their stung faces, their attempts at a defence.
My lifes going to be utterly brilliant! Alice declared, chin high, sweeping her gaze over the girls. Her voice boomed, as though she was already standing in that brilliant future.
She paused for effect, then launched in:
I see it, clear as daya rich husband eager to grant my every wish, a grand house with staff, perhaps a business of my own, although really, I cant see myself working a day in my life! All of it will fall into my lap: money, luxuries, attentiontheyll all be mine.
Her lips curled in a self-satisfied smile as she listed imaginary chandeliers, flash cars, posh dinners.
And as for you lot, well she turned sharply to one of the studious girls, always at the front, always scribbling in her exercise book.
The girl shrank a little under that unblinking gaze, but Alice was on a roll:
Youll end up a schoolmistress in some dreary village. Or stacking shelves in a shop. All because youre a mousy thing with no idea how to look after yourself. She eyed the girl up and down. Your chap will be some factory worker who stumbles home late and knocks you about.
Her words stungthey werent jokes. If anything, she felt triumphant at the suffering in the air.
She spun on another:
And you? Youll be stuck in some boring office counting pennies, wishing you could buy a new dress. Youll never have the things coming my way!
On she went, distributing her predictions, each harsher than the lastcommunal living for some, endless housework for others, never a hope of a career. Every new prophecy was delivered along with digs at looks, manners, or brains.
The girls cast their eyes down, or exchanged nervous glancessome tried to laugh it off, but tension filled the air. For them, her words left a mark.
She laughed at their slumped faces, carrying on like nothing had happened. Even the lads, lingering by the door for their queen, joined insome out of alliance, some fearing exclusion.
Alice lapped it up. Her laughter, their half-hearted chucklesconfirmation, in her mind, that she really could shape destinies.
When it came to sixth form, Alice picked a university in another countynot for love of the subject, but for the prestige. A bigger city meant a better chance of finding the right mana student from a wealthy family, a young entrepreneur, a rising star. Those were her people. With a flat inherited from Gran, she didnt need to bother with halls or house shares; another edge over the others.
At first, it went as shed hoped. Alice made herself at home, kitting out the flat how she liked it, making connections, hitting every party. She still drew attention: ever ready with a bright smile, always well put-together, good at working a room. She gathered her compliments, sure it was only a matter of time before she landed someone worthy.
Lectures soon started, and reality bit. The course was tougher than shed reckoned. Lectures required focus, tutorials took preparation, and coursework demanded serious work. Alice wasnt used to such effort and instead tried to charm or blag her way through.
Come the first exams, things unravelled. She failed nearly every module. Where lecturers had cut her slack at first, now they were blunt: Either shape up, or pack up. For the first time, Alice felt her confidence slipping.
She finally realised childhood was over. The world suddenly seemed much bigger and more complicated than shed thoughtplenty of sharper, more determined girls, many managing to juggle studies and part-time jobs, bright futures in their sights. Alice, meanwhile, clung to old ideas.
Rather than buckle down, she changed tack: find a husbandwhile the looks last, she told herself, eyeing the calendar for how long she could stay that Alice.
She started going out with older men, making herself as attractive as possible, dropping hints about wanting stability and a family. The more she pushed, the more obvious her anxiety became, and the more put off the most promising men were.
One fellow caught her attention. If he was interested, she could play along.
But fate had another lesson in store.
The new chaplets call him Oliverwas a catch, at least in her eyes. The only son of a family owning a chain of private practices, they lived in a posh part of Surrey, hosted parties with the local gentry, and had a reputation to keep. Oliver was no lookershort, round-faced, a bit stoopedbut Alice dismissed that. What use is a handsome pauper? With him, Ill have it all: a lovely home, social standing, money. In her mind, she could already taste the canapés at high society gatherings.
Alice had a plan. First, get herself noticed by Olivershe found out where he liked to go after work and began showing up at coffee shops and gyms. Then, let charm do the work. She curated her outfits, watched her words, struck the balance between effortless and flawless.
They became friends. They met up, strolled around, dined together. Alice sensed he was interested. She didnt rush, but dropped ideas about marriage or finding the one.
But she hadnt reckoned on how much stock Olivers family put in background. His parents had long since mapped out his future and expected him to marry within their sortsomeone with suitable lineage, useful connections.
When Oliver mentioned Alice at family dinner, his mother raised an eyebrow:
And whos this Alice? What do her people do?
He shrugged. Shes still at university. Her parents are ordinaryjust out of Kent.
Ordinary? his mother sniffed. You do realise family is everythingconnections, traditions! You want people saying, The doctors son married a nobody?
He tried, gently: But shes clever, witty
Many women are clever, she cut in. We need someone who can carry our name. Dont give us trouble.
Meanwhile, Alice was still busy with her planspicturing Oliver meeting her parents, picking out their flat together Until one day, Oliver rang, asking if they could meet up for a serious chat.
He looked awkward in the café, struggling for words.
My family they dont approve. They think were too different.
Alice forced a smile, though she felt hollow. Does that really matter? Were adults. We make our own decisions.
For them, it matters a lot. Oliver hesitated. Theyve already found someone they think suits me. I argued, but I cant go against them. Im sorry.
Alice sat in silence, staring into her cup. She didnt cry. She was more angry than anything.
Why? she seethed. I did everything right! Why is he so obsessed with their opinion? Shame about that baby trick not workinghed never have left then!
The worst, though, was yet to come. Within weeks, she heard rumours spreading through the marriage market: she was dubbed a gold-digger, accused of using Oliver for his wealth. That sort of gossip travelled at lightning speed.
Now, whenever Alice showed up at parties or at her usual haunts, she caught people gossiping behind her back, spotted forced smiles and sidelong glances. One man who used to flirt with her barely said hello before making a swift exit.
She kept up a brave face, but inside she knew: her reputation was wreckedat least among the set that mattered.
Going home would have meant admitting defeat. Over the years, Alice had told Mum and Dad so many tall tales, she couldnt face explaining the truth now. In every phone call, she stuck to her storybragging about her brilliant degree, the high-flying internship, the dashing fiancé from the right sort of family.
Mum and Dad listened proudly and repeated her tales to their friends. Alice imagined their beaming faces and felt compelled to carry on. She didnt want to see the disappointment, couldnt face questions she didnt have answers for.
Only Emma, my other sister, knew the truth. She found out by accident, turning up unannounced.
Come home, Alice. Theres nothing for you here, Emma told her gently. Just tell Mum and Dad you fibbed. Start over.
Alice straightened up, wiped her tears and said firmly: Admit I lied? Never! Ill keep fighting and make a wonderful life for myself!
She honestly believed it, then. She thought if she cared enough, everything would fall into place. She kept going on dates, rubbing shoulders with new people, trying to climb back into the right circles. But time ticked on and no eligible bachelor appeared. Those who were keen at first quickly drifted away as her bemusing expectations and inability to compromise became clear.
Meanwhile, Grans moneythe bit left after the flatsteadily dwindled. First she tried to be frugal, then started cutting back; no more fancy coffees, fewer new clothes, gym membership cancelled. But bills still had to be paid, food still bought.
One day, totalling up what was left in her account, Alice finally admitted she needed a job. She scrolled through adverts, hoping for something worthy of her talentsbut with no degree and a patchy CV, employers politely declined.
Thats how the former queen bee of secondary school ended up working as a checkout assistant at the local supermarket. Those first weeks were the hardest. People stared, commenting quietly that she looked far too nice to be ringing through groceries. She had to smile politely, scan items, say her thank yousreminding herself this was only temporary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
And then yesterday I got the invite, Alice finished with a dark look. To the school reunion. I have to go, you must see! If I dont, everyone will just assume Im a disaster and too ashamed to come!
I put down the spoon Id been stirring my tea with and studied her. I couldnt help but wonder.
What if they already know the truth, Alice? Maybe they want a laugh at your expense. Remember what you said to them at prom Not everyone forgets those things.
Alice bristled, cheeks flushing. Nonsense! she scoffed, waving her hand as though fending off a wasp. Ive kept it hidden. They dont know for sure. I just need to show up and remind them whos boss!
I leant back thoughtfully, tapping the mug. Something didnt quite sit right about this. Why would they invite the girl whod once so openly relished humiliating them? Surely those old classmates werent desperate to rekindle anything with the one whod spat out insults and predictions of misery?
But I didnt say it aloud. I knew Aliceshed always do things her own way, and deal with the fallout herself.
Alright, I said at last, keeping my voice even. If youre set on going, fine. Just be sure youre ready for whatever might happen.
What do you mean, whatever might happen? Alice frowned. Everything will be fine! Ill plan, pick the best outfit, get my hair done No one will even guess my life isnt as glossy as I claim.
If you need help with a frock or styling, just ask. Ill help out.
She relaxed, almost visibly.
Thank you, she breathed. Im really going to need your help. I have to look flawlessso no one suspects a thing.
**********************
Alice dashed out of the restaurant, tears smudging her mascara. The chilly London night air slapped her hot cheeks, but she barely felt ither legs simply carried her away from the building where, just moments ago, shed tried to be someone she wasnt. Emma was right all along, she kept thinking. I never should have come!
Yet, at first, it all seemed to go her way. Shed entered the hall perfectly poised: calm walk, polite, clock-watching to imply a hectic schedule. Sacrificing time for this, she implied, was an effort from her high-flying life.
She calculated every gesture, stuck to the edge of a group she barely knew. Then the stories came: a husband in finance, currently abroad on business; a beautiful house with roses blooming all year; jetting off to the Algarve at least four times a year. Alice was so caught up in her lies that she didnt notice sidelong glances, hands covering smirks, the steely glitter of contempt in old classmates eyes.
She played the staruntil it happened:
Well, I spotted Alice the other week, piped up a bloke she barely remembered, his voice carrying across the table. Her lifes nothing like the one shes describing here.
The room fell silent. Heads turned. Alice tried to force a smile, but her face wouldnt cooperate.
Actually, Ive got photos, chimed in another girl, holding up her mobile. I saw her myself last month.
With practiced fingers, someone hooked the phone to the big screen. One by one, images of Alices real life flashed up: at the supermarket till, forcing a smile at a grumpy customer in her uniform; stooped by the reduced shelf, weighing up what she could afford; waiting at a bus stop hugging her shopping; and worst, weighed down with groceries, heading into the battered entrance to her modest flat.
Someone snickered. Then another. At first quietly, then everyone joined in, laughter swelling. Someone called out, Some mansion youve got! Another shouted, Maybe your husbands doing night shifts at the supermarket too!
Alice stood stock still, her cheeks ablaze, her knees trembling. There was nothing disgraceful in it, not reallymillions live that way. But minutes earlier shed spun tales of luxury, started believing them herself. Now, those photos exposed the reality shed worked so hard to hide.
Before anyone could ask another question, Alice turned on her heel and bolted. She didnt hear what people called after her, didnt see hands reaching out. Only the biting air and her own tears, smearing as she ran for the nearest bench, desperate to pull herself together and decide what to do next.
She didnt see the man coming and blundered into him with her shoulder. Startled, she nearly lost her balance.
Are you alright? he asked, the concern in his voice so genuine that Alice froze.
She looked up, seeing a strangerplain enough in his jacket, with a bag of groceries in one hand. But his eyes were so full of honest kindness, her composure crumbled at last.
No she whispered. My fiancé left me just before the wedding
Some people never learn.
