—It’s absolutely infuriating! She’s always posting these sickly sweet photos of her daughter online with all these gushing captions, but she hasn’t bothered with the girl in four years! What a disgusting act! — Olivia’s voice trembled with outrage as she unloaded to her best friend, the pain bubbling up like an overfilled kettle.
There they sat, in a cosy little café in Manchester, Olivia fuming about her sister-in-law, who’d been working abroad for years, leaving her daughter behind without a second thought.
—Fine, there was the pandemic, she couldn’t visit. But even before that, she couldn’t care less about her own child! Just posting pictures so everyone thinks she’s the perfect mother. How can anyone abandon their daughter for money? — Olivia gripped her cup so tightly her knuckles went white.
Her husband’s niece, 14-year-old Emily, might as well have been an orphan with a living mother. The grandmother, well into her seventies, was barely managing the teenager’s mood swings and homework dramas.
—My sister-in-law’s an absolute pro at crafting illusions, — Olivia went on. —But when I look at Emily, it breaks my heart. That girl’s growing up without a mum, and all hers does is wire money over like that fixes anything!
Olivia and her sister-in-law, Rebecca, were the same age. Olivia had two kids, a mortgage on their modest house, and—despite the chaos—a happy family. She and her husband, James, tried their best to keep things harmonious, but Rebecca’s shadow loomed over them like bad weather.
—Rebecca’s parents spoiled her rotten, — Olivia explained. —When she was widowed nine years ago, they did everything for her: babysat Emily, handed over cash, the Works. Then, a couple of years later, she met some German bloke, married him, and swanned off to Berlin.
Rebecca never intended to take Emily with her. She insisted she’d get settled first, then come back for her daughter. Years passed. No return. In Germany, Rebecca landed a fancy gig as a photographer for a high-end agency, earning a tidy sum. Her husband was loaded, so she didn’t even need to work—just sipped champagne and posted glamorous snaps.
—She tells everyone, ‘Oh, in Europe, it’s just not *done* to drag kids from a first marriage into a new relationship,’ — Olivia scoffed. —‘Emily would be bored, and who’d even look after her?’ Excuses, the lot of it! She just prefers life without a teenager cramping her style!
Emily had waited for her mother for years. The first five, she truly believed Mum would come back for her—then gave up hoping. Rebecca claimed Emily needed to finish school in England, or she’d struggle with the language. Olivia saw right through it.
—It’s easier for her to chuck money at the problem and play ‘Instagram Mum’ from afar, — she sighed. —Meanwhile, *we’re* left dealing with the mess.
Caring for Rebecca’s parents and Emily fell squarely on James’s shoulders. The neighbours flooded their flat. Dad needed surgery. The shed roof collapsed. Olivia and James were constantly putting out fires while Rebecca just sent the odd bank transfer like it magically erased her responsibilities.
Last month, Rebecca shocked everyone by turning up in Manchester unannounced. She clung to Emily, snapped endless photos for social media, showered her with gifts. The poor girl barely dared to breathe, convinced Mum was finally taking her home. But no. Rebecca flew back alone. Emily sobbed herself to sleep, and Olivia—standing helplessly by—could only stroke her hair and pretend not to notice her own clenched fists.
—Her parents aren’t getting any younger, and Emily’s a handful, — Olivia muttered, her voice cracking. —That girl needs attention, stability! But Rebecca? She just throws cash at it and says, ‘Sort it out yourselves.’ Meanwhile, *we’re* the ones at parents’ evening, *we’re* helping with homework—where’s *she*?
Once, Olivia snapped. She messaged Rebecca, trying to explain how much Emily was hurting. The reply?
—Stay out of my family! None of your business!
—Not *my* family? — Olivia nearly spilt her tea. —Then why am I the one wiping up after it? Of course, her mum defends her—what mother wouldn’t? Rebecca took the easy road: no elderly parents, no moody teen. But on Instagram? Picture-perfect motherhood! A feed full of beaming selfies, captioned ‘My darling girl.’ Meanwhile, in real life? Nothing but an empty chair at the dinner table. The hypocrisy!
Olivia stared out the café window, rain tracing lazy paths down the glass. She thought of Emily, checking her phone every night for a text that never came. Of her in-laws, exhausted from carrying a weight that wasn’t theirs. Of herself and James, sprinting between their own lives and the wreckage Rebecca left behind.
And Rebecca? Still living her dream, posting glossy snaps with #Blessed. But Olivia knew better—behind every filtered photo, there was a broken-hearted girl and a family left to pick up the pieces.
So, what do *you* make of that?
