“Don’t you dare touch my dolly!” shrieked Emily, wrenching the porcelain princess with golden curls from her elder sister’s grasp. “Mum! Jane’s pinching my toys again!”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport!” snapped eight-year-old Jane, though she released the doll. “Not that special anyway!”
“Girls, what’s this shouting so early?” Gillian emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Jane, leave your sister be. You’ve heaps of your own playthings.”
“Mine are rubbish hand-me-downs while hers are brand new!” protested Jane. “It’s not fair!”
“’Cause I’m the youngest,” Emily declared smugly, cradling her doll. “Mum said so.”
Jane gritted her teeth. True—Mum had said that. So had Gran. And Aunt Lydia. Everyone droned on: “Little Emily needs watching,” “Emily’s delicate, be gentle,” “Emily’s an angel.”
But Jane? Jane was big. Jane was strong. Jane must always give way.
“Breakfast, now,” Mum sighed. “Fetch your sister.”
School offered Jane temporary peace, yet Emily’s shadow lingered. Teacher Mrs. Davies often inquired about “sweet Emily,” her health, and when she’d start Reception.
“You are coaching her, dear?” she asked once after lessons.
“Course,” lied Jane.
Truthfully, those lessons grated. Emily whinged about learning letters, moaned of exhaustion. Mum always intervened: “Don’t nag, love. Can’t you see she’s knackered?”
“The ‘A’ isn’t scrawled like that!” Jane scowled, erasing a crooked squiggle. “Watch me!”
“Don’t wanna! My hand hurts!”
“Rubbish! You’re just bone idle!”
“Mum! Jane called me names!” Emily howled instantly.
Mum inevitably chastised Jane. Always Jane.
When Emily began primary, Jane hoped she’d finally grasp effort and struggling with marks. No such luck. Emily sailed through with top grades, adored by teachers.
“Such a clever sister!” Jane’s form tutor gushed. “Pure natural! You might learn study habits from her.”
Jane clenched her fists, speechless. How explain Emily’s luck versus her own late-night cramming for decent scores?
Home offered no refuge. Emily blossomed into a blue-eyed, fair-haired beauty. Neighbours cooed: “A living doll! Precious little cherub!”
Jane? Utterly plain. Brown hair, grey eyes—forgettable among millions.
“Our Emily’s bound for stage or modelling,” Mum mused dreamily, brushing her daughter’s tresses.
“Don’t touch my doll!” shrieked Maisie, ripping the porcelain beauty with golden curls from her elder sister’s grasp. “Mum! Eleanor’s at my toys again!”
“Honestly, don’t be greedy,” muttered eight-year-old Eleanor, sinking into a sulk. “Fancy such airs!”
“Girls, must you shout at dawn?” Mum stepped from the kitchen, drying her hands. “Leave her be, Eleanor. You’ve plenty of your own toys.”
“Mine are rubbish; hers are new!” Eleanor protested. “It’s not fair!”
“I’m the youngest,” Maisie smirked, clutching the doll. “Mum said so.”
Eleanor gritted her teeth. True enough – Mum, Gran, Aunt Lydia – all insisted: “Sweet Maisie’s wee; she needs spoiling,” or “Maisie’s delicate; mind her.”
But Eleanor? Always big, sturdy, sensible – forever expected to yield.
“Breakfast’s ready,” sighed Mum. “Call your sister.”
At school, Eleanor tried escaping home squabbles, yet Maisie’s ghost lingered. Their teacher, Mrs. Davies, often asked after Maisie’s health, when she’d start Year One. “Eleanor, you’re helping prepare her, aren’t you?”
“Course,” Eleanor lied.
She despised tutoring sessions. Maisie whinged about tiredness, refused learning letters. Mum always intervened: “Stop nagging. Can’t you see she’s exhausted?”
“‘A’ isn’t scribbled like that!” Eleanor snapped once, rubbing crooked pencil lines. “Copy properly!”
“My hand aches!” wailed Maisie.
“Liars are lazy!”
“Mum! Eleanor’s rude!”
True to form, Mum scolded Eleanor. Always.
When Maisie started school, Eleanor hoped she’d grasp lessons, effort, failures. No such luck. Maisie sailed through with top marks, adored by teachers.
The warm weight of her niece nestled in her lap finally dissolved the last of her bitterness, that shared glance across the table holding a lifetime of unspoken understanding in Alice’s eyes, promising a hopeful new closeness between sisters.
