Framed by My Own Sister
Claire, I just cant do this anymore, Sophie sighed, collapsing into a chair and burying her face in her hands. You honestly have no idea what its like, doing absolutely everything by myself. My backs ready to snap.
Claire nudged her tea aside, eyeing her sister with concern. Sophie looked knackered, dark circles under her eyes and her hair tied up in a haphazard ponytail that had clearly given up on life.
Soph, whats happened?
Its been two years since Mike left. Two years! And all of its on me. School runs, homework, clubs, cooking, cleaning, laundry. Im like a hamster stuck on a wheel. Its exhausting! And Charlottes started showing her attitude. Cheeky answers for everything
Claire raised an eyebrow. Her ten-year-old niece had always seemed rather calm and sensible to her. Not the sort to go on a rampage or sass adults.
Charlotte? Cheeky? Odd, shes never like that with me.
Thats because you see her twice a month for a couple of hours! Sophie wailed, waving her hands. Try explaining, day after day, that dishes need to be washed right away, not dumped in the sink to fester. That homework has deadlines. That you cant sit glued to your phone past midnight.
Oh, those are normal kid things
Normal?! Sophie let out a bitter laugh. I havent got the energy for normal. I work, come home, then its cooking and cleaning and nagging. Meanwhile, shes just sitting there like a queen, doing absolutely sod all. Im over it!
Claire bit her tongue. She wanted to say most mums managenot always under the best of circumstances. Some raise three on their own and still find time to make cupcakes. But arguing with Sophie never ended well, so she just nodded and gave her best impression of sympathy.
Listen, Sophie perked up suddenly, youre free this weekend, arent you?
Um yes, I think so.
Take Charlotte for Saturday and Sunday! I need a breather. I want to visit my mate in Kent, have a bit of a break.
Of course! Claire said, genuinely pleased. Would love to. Well watch a film, go for a walk Ive wanted to borrow my favourite niece for ages.
Sophie gave her a grateful grin and rummaged in her bag for her mobile to call Charlotte.
The weekend flew by. Charlotte was an absolute delight. Together, they made homemade pizzaCharlotte kneading the dough and choosing toppings. They sprawled across the sofa watching cartoons, ambled through the park, fed the ducks, and generally enjoyed themselves. Claire didnt notice any sass, no meltdowns. Just a normal, cheerful kid.
On Sunday evening, Claire dialled her sisters number. It rang for ages before Sophie finally picked up.
Yes?
Soph, what time will you be picking up Charlotte? Were waiting for you.
A pause. A long, suspicious pause.
Claire, bit of a situation Sophie muttered. Im not in London.
What do you mean? Werent you going to see your friend in Kent? Thats what, a couple of hours drive?
Im not in Kent. Im in Turkey.
Claire thought shed misheard.
Where?!
Turkey. Flew out yesterday morning. Ive got a friend here, staying for a month. I needed a proper holiday, you know?
Sophie, you cant be serious! Claire gripped the edge of the table. You left the country and dumped your daughter with mewithout even a warning?
How else was I supposed to do it? Youd have said no!
Of course Id have said no! Ive got work, a lifeI cant just play Mary Poppins for a month! Do you realise what youve done?
Oh, stop dramatizing, Claire. You always said Charlottes no trouble. A month will go by before you know it.
Are you even listening to yourself? Youve just abandoned your kid and jetted off for sun and cocktails! Youre her mum!
Ive been a mum with zero time off for two years straight. I need a break.
A break?! For a whole month?! In Turkey?!
Claire, Sophies voice turned frosty, dont shout at me. What are you going to dochuck Charlotte out onto the street? Call Social Services?
Click. Shed hung up.
Claire remained speechless in the kitchen, clutching her phone in disbelief. Her own sister had just unloaded her child for a month and flown off to bronze herself, without even basic courtesy.
Charlotte poked her head in.
Auntie Claire, is Mum coming soon?
Claire inhaled. Deeply. Twice, for good measure. Then she forced herself to smile.
Charlotte, come here. We need to have a little chat.
The girl perched on a stool, dangling her legs. Claire sat down beside her.
Mums gone on holiday. For a while, it looks like. Youll be staying here for a bit longer. Is that alright?
Charlotte shrugged.
Sure.
No drama, no tears, just calm acceptance. Claire was torn between pride and anxiety.
Do you have your keys for your flat in your backpack?
Charlotte nodded, pulling out a keyring shaped like a little cat.
Right, lets go grab your stuff.
Sophies flat was immaculate. Claire packed up clothes, schoolbooks, Charlottes favourite toys. The girl helped quietly, folding things with care.
The first week was an adjustment. Claire reworked her hours, negotiated a partly remote arrangement with her boss. Charlotte went to school, finished her homework, and dined with Claire in the evenings.
By the second week, Claire clocked something odd. Charlotte volunteered to help her tidy uppolished the shelves, vacuumed, even cleaned the windows.
Charlotte, you really dont have to
I want to help, the girl said solemnly. Youre looking after me, feeding me, giving me a home. Its only fair.
And then she wanted a go at dinner. She asked permission to chop up a salad. Yes, the cucumbers were wonky and the tomatoes a bit uneven, but she tried her hardest. Claire praised her efforts.
Mum never let me cook, Charlotte murmured, eyes down, she said I do it all wrong. She said its easier if she does it herself.
But did you want to?
Loads. I wanted to help clean too. But Mum always got cross when I tried. Said she had to redo everything after me.
Claire remembered Sophies complaints. Sits around doing nothing. Doesnt lift a finger. Turns out, Charlotte was never given the chance to learn or even make a mistake.
Dad let me try, Charlotte added softly. He said everyones first pancake is a mess. Youve got to try.
Do you miss your dad?
Silence, then a shy nod.
Mum doesnt let us see him. She says hes awful. But hes not. Hes lovely. He just found Mum hard.
Claire hugged her niece, realising how small and fragile she looked.
Sophie didnt ring. Not once over three weeks. Not a single Hows my Charlotte? or a WhatsApp sticker. Claire sent photos and updates; each reply was monosyllabic. Ok. Fine. Alright.
And then, in a bout of insomnia, it hit her. The month was nearly up. Sophie would pop back, take Charlotte home and itd all go back: Charlotte stuck with a mother who treated her like a burden, not a person.
So, next morning, Claire dug up an old contact in her phone. Mike, Sophies ex.
Hello?
Mike, its Claire. Sophies sister.
Pause.
Claire? Everything alright?
Charlottes been staying with me for almost a month. Sophies done a runner to Turkeyleft her with me, no warning.
A long silence.
Hows Charlotte?
Shes good. But she misses you.
Can I come and see her?
Please do.
Within an hour, the doorbell rang. A tall man with kind yet tired eyes and a bunch of daisies.
Dad! Charlotte dashed out and flung herself into his arms. Mike hugged her tightly, his shoulders shaking.
My girl. Ive missed you so much. Mum wouldnt let
I know, Dad. I know.
Claire watched from a distance. Father and daughterkept apart not for childs sake, but for ego, bitterness, control.
When the hugging finally subsided, Claire came over.
Charlotte, serious question. Would you like to live with your dad?
She didnt hesitate.
Yes.
Claire turned to Mike.
And you?
Ive dreamt of it since the day I left, he said, gazing at his daughter. I love her. I always have. Sophie just I couldnt manage her. But I never stopped wanting Charlotte. Shes the one who banned me.
Next day, Claire rang Social Services. Explained everything: mum gone abroad, child left without care for a month, dad keen to step up.
It took a few daysforms, signatures, chats with a psychologist. Charlotte was determined: she wanted to be with her dad. Mike produced payslips, mortgage statements, the whole lot.
A week later, Charlotte moved in with her dad.
Claire visited often. She watched Charlotte blossomhelping in the kitchen, cheered on by Dad for every lopsided vegetable slice. They snickered at silly jokes and Mike read her bedtime stories, even though she was getting a bit old for them.
Claire and Mike got on well. He was level-headed, thoughtfulnone of Sophies draining drama. They drank tea, compared notes on Charlottes schoolwork, planned day trips.
Sophie returned eventuallybronzed, rested, and chipper. That lasted about two minutes.
You gave away my child?! Sophie shrieked the moment she crossed the threshold. How could you?!
Gave away? Claire sipped her coffee, unbothered. Hardly. You ditched her.
I didnt ditchI left her with you. Temporary!
For a month. Abroad! Didnt even check in to see if she was alive.
Shes my daughter!
She was yours. Now thats for the courts to sort out.
Sophie paled.
What court?
Court to decide where Charlotte lives. Mikes filed papers. Odds are in his favourgiven you abandoned her for a month.
You you snake! Youve betrayed me! My own sister!
Your own sister who you dropped a child on before sunning yourself for a month. Claire shrugged. You kept moaning about being overwhelmedcooking, cleaning, laundry. Not your problem anymore, Soph.
Youll pay for this!
Nope, Sophie. This time, youll be the one paying. In court. Get your paperwork in orderand maybe a good solicitor. Not that itll help. Charlotte wants her dad. And you know what? Get ready to pay child support.
Sophie stormed out.
Claire leaned back in her armchair. Relations with her sister were probably toast. Maybe for good. But she didnt regret it. She still couldnt fathom abandoning your own child for a month as if she was a suitcase.
Itd be a lesson for Sophiethat actions have consequences. That people arent pawns.
And Charlotte? Charlotte was finally happy. And that was all that mattered.
