**Family That Wasn’t**
The morning quiet in a small flat in the outskirts of London was shattered by her mother’s call. Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and picked up the phone.
“But Sophie’s a doctor!” Her mother’s voice trembled with urgency.
“So?” Elizabeth replied coolly.
“A doctor isn’t just a job—it’s a calling!” her mother declared, as if revealing some great truth.
“Calling or not,” Liz shot back, “what’s it to you? You ignored her for twenty-five years.”
“But she’s a doctor—she *has* to help!” The woman wouldn’t let it go.
*”Owe nothing to anyone, forgive everything,”* flashed through Liz’s mind, a bitter joke with no humour left in it. Jokes about family fell flat when that family had never really existed—not for her, not for her daughter Sophie. No one had wanted them. Until now.
Because Sophie, the “mistake” they’d once called her, had graduated from medical school in London.
And just like that, family crawled out of the woodwork—shadows emerging at dusk. Auntie Jean, who’d once turned her back on a pregnant niece, now cooed, “How lovely, having our own doctor in the family!”
Uncle Mark, who’d refused Liz help years ago with a curt *”Not my problem,”* now groaned about his aching back and *needing* a free check-up.
Even her mother, who’d washed her hands of Liz, now called with cloying concern.
Twenty-three years ago, Liz had been alone. Her boyfriend, Ryan, had left the moment she told him she was pregnant. In films, men celebrated at the sight of a positive test—real life wasn’t so kind. They’d met at the café where Liz worked as a waitress, fresh from Yorkshire with a business diploma and big dreams. Back home, the only jobs going were farm work, and the local livestock manager, some bloke named Davies, had already started eyeing her. London was supposed to be her escape. She’d arrived clutching homemade jam and a bottle of milk for her uncle, Mum’s brother.
He took the gifts but shut the door in her face. *”No room here. Try a hostel.”*
Stunned, Liz wandered into the first café she saw, spotting a *”Dishwasher Wanted”* sign. The owner, noticing her distress, offered her a storage room to sleep in—half pay as a cleaner, half as night security.
Then she met Ryan—a delivery driver with strong arms and easy charm. Liz, plain-faced but bright-eyed, felt wanted for the first time. When he suggested moving in, she ignored all warnings and said yes. Five months of bliss, savings spent on gifts, dreams of a wedding—then the test turned positive.
Ryan raged, shouted *”I’m not ready,”* and threw her out.
Her mother’s response? *”Got yourself in trouble, have you? Sort it out.”*
Uncle Mark’s? *”We’ve got our own kids to worry about.”*
With nowhere to go, the café owner took pity. *”Look after my gran—no rent, just cover bills.”* The old woman, sharp at 87, helped with baby Sophie, cooked when Liz was exhausted.
Twice Liz begged family for money—Sophie’s allergies needed medicine. No one helped. The café owner lent it instead.
Years passed. The gran died, Liz clawed her way up to office work, took extra shifts to give Sophie the best. She scraped together a deposit for a tiny flat. Men were off the table—love had burned her once. Sophie, brilliant, graduated top of her class, landed a job at a private clinic.
Then the family “remembered” them.
Sophie, hopeful, visited her grandmother—now living in London. Liz warned her: *”Don’t poke the bear.”*
Sophie came back changed. *”Gran says it was just bad timing! She’s so proud!”*
Liz didn’t buy it. She was right. The calls started—*”Get me an MRI!”*, *”I need prescriptions!”*, *”Family shouldn’t pay!”*
When Sophie explained the clinic wasn’t free, her grandmother snapped, *”Make it happen,”* and hung up.
Then they stormed the clinic—Uncle Mark, Auntie Jean, Gran—demanding free tests with jam jars for samples.
The manager called Sophie: *”Your relatives are causing a scene!”*
“Throw them out,” Sophie said firmly.
Security escorted them out, their angry texts flooding her phone—*”Selfish! Ungrateful!”* Shame gnawed at Sophie, but to her surprise, her bosses respected her spine.
*”No nepotism—good for her.”*
The family vanished. Liz and Sophie went back to relying only on each other.
Being a doctor was indeed about the soul. But souls were for those who wouldn’t crush them.
As for “family” who only showed up for favours? Liz had one wish for them: good health.
And enough money for private care—because it didn’t come cheap.
