Beth, promise me you wont get angry, alright?
Beth paused, setting down the cloth shed been using to wipe the kitchen table, pressing the phone closer to her ear. Saturday evening. Silence blanketed the flat, and for once, she had a whole day and a half to herself. Or so she thought, up until a moment ago.
Whats up?
Thing is, Ive been landed with a shift on Monday. Unplanned. My manager says I have to come inno one else can. You know I cant refuse, not with how jobs are these days…
Beth understood. She always understood.
The kids? she asked, though the answer was obvious.
Yeah, of course. Its half-termschools off, nurserys closed. And you know what Archie and Jamie are like. I cant leave them alonetheyd turn the flat upside down. Last time Jamie managed to shove the cat in the washing machine. Thank heavens he didnt switch it on.
Beth couldnt help smiling. Seven-year-old Jamie really had a knack for disaster. His older brother Archie, whod just turned ten, was steadier, but only in comparison.
And what about Mark? Beth meant her sisters husband.
Marks away for work till Wednesday. I did tell you last week, remember?
Beth didnt recall, but she didnt argue. Maybe shed just let it slip by latelythe details of other peoples problems faded quickly now.
Okay, Beth said. Bring them here. What time do you need to leave?
Eight in the morning, so Id have to drop them off by seven, if thats okay. Or maybe Sunday evening would be better, so I wont have to drag them across town first thing. What do you think?
Beth did some quick maths in her headSunday evening, then all of Monday, probably even an overnight… But she couldnt say no. She just couldnt force the word out of her mouth.
Sunday evening then, she agreed. Just ring when youre on your way.
Beth, youre a star! Im so gratefulyou have no idea!
Emily carried on about the present shed bring, how Beth was saving her, and what an amazing sister she was…
Beth only half listened, nodding automatically, and eventually said goodbye.
The armchair creaked as it took her weary body. Beth stared at a patch on the wall, her mind swirling. Funny, how her and Emilys lives had played out.
Ten years. A decade spent helping.
The memories came flooding back. Emily, new mum with a wailing baby, asking if Beth could watch Archie for just a couple hours. Those hours stretched till midnight. Emily crying down the lineMarks pay was held up, Jamie needed medicine, could Beth possibly… And Beth did. The bank transfer sent that evening.
Thered been getting Emilys kids in to the GP thanks to Beths connections, because Emily simply didnt have time to find a good doctor. Sleepless nights by a sick nephews bed, while her sister caught up on her own rest from shifts. Endless advice, comfort, and solutions to problems Emily never seemed able to fix herself.
Helping Emily had become so routine, it barely felt special anymore. Emily calledBeth helped. Simple. Reliable.
But something broke in that smooth-running machine a few months ago.
Beth took a second job. Her firstdoing accounts for a construction firmwas secure, but not enough for home renovations. The seconda remote gig at nightswas meant to fill that gap.
It did close the gap. But at a price: all her free time vanished.
Now Beth woke at six, commuted into the office by eight, worked until five, rushed home, and then sat glued to her laptop until eleven. Sometimes midnight, sometimes beyond.
Meals were snatched in passingtea, a cheese sandwich, instant coffee. A sad, unopened packet of ready-meal ravioli sat in the fridge, two weeks old; Beth never had the twenty minutes to cook it.
Her stomach rebelled. First discomfort, then cramps after every snack, then nausea in the mornings.
Beth ignored it as long as she could. When she couldnt anymore, she realisedthere was no one she could turn to for help.
No, that wasnt quite true. There was Emily.
Beth dialled her sister, explained. Asked for something simplejust a couple containers of homemade meals each week. Nothing difficult. Emily always cooked for four; adding one more portion wouldnt be hard.
It was Beths first real favour, ever.
She thought Emily would agreeafter all these years, after everything.
She was wrong.
Emily, I need help, Beth found it hard to get the words out. Ive got two jobs, cant manage proper meals, my stomachs giving me grief. Could you cook for me? Twice a week, thats all.
A pause stretched so long Beth checked the phone for connection.
Cook? Emily sounded as if Beth had suggested moving to the moon.
Just soup, maybe shepherds pie. Youre cooking anyway, just an extra portion Ill cover the food costs. And taxis for delivery too.
Beth rushed her words, as if Emily might hang up. As if she had to explain, persuade, prove herselfthough why should she, after all those years and sleepless nights?
Beth, Emily sighed, the sound heavy, as if she was the one working fourteen hours a day. Look, I have my own family. My own worries. I cant take on feeding you as well.
Im paying for everything. And Ive done so much for you!
Its not about money. Honestly, you chose to live that waytwo jobs is your decision. Whats it got to do with me?
Beth was silent. A heavy, bitter feeling spread in her chest.
And anyway, Emily continued, everything you did, that was your choice. Nobody made you. You could always have said no.
No one made her. Ten years. Thousands of pounds transferred. Hundreds of hours spent with other peoples children. Her choice. Her problem.
I see, Beth said. Thanks for being honest.
She hung up, not waiting for Emilys excuses.
Something cracked that night. Not shatteredjust cracked, like spring ice on a river. Beth sat in her darkening kitchen, thinking about gratitude. About how foolish shed been to believe it was like a bank account: you deposit, it grows, you withdraw when you need it.
But gratitude doesnt build up. Past favours guarantee nothing. You can pour years of yourself into someone, and all youll hear is: You chose that.
Technically, Emily was right. Beth had chosen. She gaveher sister simply decided not to give back. Everyone has the right to choose.
From that day, everything changed.
The next time Emily called, asking for help with the boys, Beth answered with a curt No.
What do you mean, no? her sister was taken aback. Beth, Im desperate, works a nightmare…
No.
But why? You always used to
Not anymore.
Beth didnt explain, didnt excuse, didnt apologise. Just: no.
Weeks passed in an exhausting tug-of-war, but only one side pulled. Emily called with grievances, accusations, shouts. She didnt understandtruly couldntwhat had happened to her once-obliging older sister.
Youve changed! she yelled down the phone. Youre so cold, so cruel! You used to be normal!
Beth listened, quietly. Shed been convenient, that was what Emily really meant. Reliable, dependable, there whenever she was neededlike an old sofa, always ready to collapse onto.
Im your sister! Emily wailed. Your own flesh and blood! How can you treat me like this?!
Well, you managed, didnt you? Beth replied calmly.
Me? What did I ever do to you?!
You said you had your own family, your own worries. Remember?
So what?!
Nothing. I do too. My own family. My own worries.
The silence buzzed with all that hadnt been said.
What family? Emily spat. You live alone! No husband, no kids!
I am my own family, Beth answered. And thats enough.
She hung up, switched her phone to silent, and went to the kitchen. For the first time in months, she found the time to cook herself a real meal. Chicken noodle soup. Simple, and steaming hot.
Maybe shed become a bad sister. But she would not keep helping those who cared nothing for it.
