**Diary Entry**
*4th October 2023*
“Hello, Victoria!” I said cheerfully, dialling her number. “We were thinking of popping over to yours this weekend—would that be alright?”
“Hello…” Her reply was icy. “No, it wouldn’t.”
“Excuse me?” I was taken aback.
“In plain terms—no,” Victoria said flatly.
“Are you angry about something? I don’t understand…”
“*You* don’t understand? After what you did, I want nothing to do with you!” she snapped.
“What did I even do? What are you on about?”
The Smith sisters grew up in a quiet village in Yorkshire. The elder, Victoria, stayed after school, completed college, and became an accountant. She married a local businessman, William, built a home, and helped run the family business while raising their son, Ethan.
Meanwhile, I—the younger sister—always dreamed of city life. I moved to Leeds for university, stayed, and worked as a shop assistant. My husband, George, was a factory worker, and we lived in a tiny rented flat. Two years after our wedding, our daughter, Lily, was born.
Despite the distance, we stayed in touch. When Lily turned one, I began visiting Victoria often—fresh air was good for the baby, and her help was a blessing. Sometimes I’d stay the weekend, even a month at a time.
Victoria always welcomed us warmly. There was plenty of space, and Lily was a quiet, well-behaved girl. Over time, I started leaving her there alone—first for a few days, then weeks, even the whole summer. I’d say George and I needed time alone, and Victoria never complained. She worked from home, and though it wasn’t always convenient, she helped without question.
Yet I never once repaid her kindness. Our flat was too small to host them, so when they visited the city, they had to rent a place. Half the time, I couldn’t even be bothered to meet up—always busy at the salon or running errands. A quick coffee, if they were lucky.
Victoria never made a fuss. All that mattered was the bond between our children and the fact we were family, flawed as we were.
Years passed. Ethan grew up and was due to start university. His parents were ready to pay the tuition fees. But right before the application deadline, Victoria fell seriously ill—high fever, exhaustion. William promised to drive Ethan to campus but couldn’t stay to help—work wouldn’t allow.
So, she called me.
“Emily,” she whispered weakly, “could you please help Ethan tomorrow? Just meet him, take him to the university, help with the paperwork… Maybe let him stay the night? William will pick him up in the morning.”
A long pause.
“Sorry, I really can’t,” I replied.
“Why not?” She sounded stunned.
“I’ve got a salon appointment, then Lily needs new things for camp. It’s all booked.”
“Emily, I’ve *never* asked you for anything. Just one day—”
“I can’t. Honestly.”
“What about just letting him sleep on the floor?”
“For heaven’s sake, he’s a grown lad! Where would I put him? Lily’s room? They’re both teenagers—that’s just awkward. And the kitchen’s tiny, you know that.”
I could almost hear her heart breaking. After all those years—never once refusing me, always opening her home, feeding us—this was her thanks?
“Right. I see how it is,” she said quietly.
In the end, a distant cousin of William’s—someone they barely spoke to—stepped in without hesitation. He took Ethan, sorted the paperwork, gave him a place to sleep, even showed him around.
Ethan got into university. His parents rented him a place. He turned out fine—responsible, level-headed. But Victoria couldn’t forget that when she needed family most, her own sister turned away.
A month later, the phone rang.
“Hi! Lily and I were thinking of coming to stay for a week—I’ve got time off, she’s on break!”
“No.” Her voice was calm.
“What do you mean, *no*?”
“Exactly that. You won’t be staying here again. Want fresh air? Rent somewhere. Don’t expect my help.”
“Is this because of Ethan?”
“Yes. The *one* time I asked, you couldn’t be bothered. Years of holidays at my place, but when *I* needed you, your hair appointment came first.”
“I’m sorry—” I tried to interject.
“Too late,” she cut in.
We haven’t spoken since. Lily and Ethan still keep in touch—Victoria wouldn’t interfere. It wasn’t the girl’s fault. But she hasn’t spent a night under that roof again.
And even now, I don’t think I did anything wrong. *She’s got a big house, it wasn’t that hard for her.* But that door stayed closed.
Sometimes it’s better to have no sister at all than one you can’t count on when it matters most.
