“Times Never Change, Only People Do”
“Emily, have you no shame left at all?” asked Olivia, her voice trembling as she spoke to her younger sister.
“Olivia, you’re the last one who should lecture me about shame! Mum and I have done our part—now it’s your turn with James to look after her. See what it’s like having an elderly person in your flat. We’ve had enough!” The last words came sharp and loud before Emily slammed the phone down.
Olivia held the silent receiver for a few seconds before whispering, “The nerve of her… Just unbelievable.”
Olivia and Emily were sisters. Their parents—Charles and Margaret—married young while still at university. A year after the wedding, their first child, Olivia, was born. The young family barely scraped by, with just enough money for essentials.
A few years later, Charles was granted a two-bedroom council flat through his job, making life easier. Margaret, who worked at a music school, also gave private lessons in the evenings, bringing in decent money. When Olivia turned ten, their second daughter, Emily, arrived.
From the start, their parents doted on Emily. Every whim was indulged, every demand met. It didn’t take long for Emily to realize her power—she deliberately pulled the attention toward herself.
“Olivia, you’re the older one—let your sister have it!” Margaret scolded once when Olivia refused to hand over her sketchpad.
“Mum, she doesn’t even need it! It’s mine—she’s too little to use it properly!”
“Want it, Mum,” Emily wailed dramatically. Moments later, the sketchpad was in her hands.
Emily refused to read, refused speech therapy. She wanted things her way—no arguments. Any resistance sparked screaming fits.
When Olivia was sixteen and Emily six, tragedy struck. Charles collapsed at work from a sudden heart attack. Colleagues, neighbours, friends—all mourned his loss. Forty was no age to go. He had his whole life ahead—raising his girls, meeting grandchildren. But fate had other plans.
Margaret was shattered. Something inside her broke. She withdrew, barely noticing the world around her, even ignoring Olivia. All her love, attention, and energy went to seven-year-old Emily—the spitting image of Charles.
“Mum, my jeans are falling apart, and all you buy Emily are dresses! Her wardrobe’s overflowing!” Olivia protested.
“Olivia, must you always make a fuss? You’re grown now—soon you’ll finish school, get a job, buy whatever you like. But Emily—poor thing—lost her father so young! He adored her…” Margaret mumbled, wiping a tear away.
Olivia left for university in another city.
“I thought I’d miss you, but honestly—this works out well! I’m redecorating Emily’s room now—fit for a princess!” Margaret chirped excitedly.
“You’re kicking my bed out as soon as I leave? I was planning to visit on weekends.”
“Of course! That old thing? You can sleep in my room or the sofa bed downstairs. Understand, love—Emily needs her own space. She’s got her whole school life ahead!”
By September, Olivia was gone, and Margaret launched into renovations.
“Olivia, I should’ve sent you off sooner! Emily can’t wait for her new room. It’s all she talks about!” Margaret complained over the phone.
“Mum, why even bother redecorating? It was fine! By the way—I need money for Freshers’ Week.”
“If you want extra cash, get a job like I did! The reno’s costing a fortune—I took a loan. Emily’s growing out of clothes, needs new ones. And she’s always begging for cinema tickets, ice cream…”
“You buy her everything. Why am I different?”
“You’re an adult. Time to stand on your own feet!” Margaret snapped.
Olivia rarely visited. She took weekend shifts, met James, moved in together, married, and got a mortgage.
“Love, I’d help with payments, but you know how tight things are…” Margaret sighed.
“How?”
“Emily’s tutors cost a fortune!”
“I never had tutors!”
“Times were different! She wants to study translation—probably a private uni. I’ve got to save! You’ll manage—think before you borrow next time!”
Olivia didn’t argue. She knew Emily ruled Margaret’s life now.
Soon after, Olivia and James had a son, Ethan.
“Mum, could you come help for a bit?” Olivia pleaded.
“Sweetheart, I can’t leave Emily! She’s revising for her A-levels. Needs proper meals, support…”
“I had exams too, remember? Right after Dad died.”
“That was years ago! I want better for her!”
Emily graduated, married quickly, and moved in with Margaret. Two years later, her son Jake was born—Margaret’s new pride. Olivia stayed out of it, but she noticed—Jake was just like Emily, demanding and spoiled.
“Mum, did you quit your job?” Olivia asked one day.
“Yes. Jake’s at prep school now—someone’s got to take him. And his grammar school’s across town!”
“It’s a 25-minute bus ride! This is madness! Let me talk to Emily—”
“No! Jake’s brilliant—he can’t waste time at our local school!”
Years passed. Jake grew older. Emily and her husband bought a new flat, preparing to leave. The stress triggered a heart attack in Margaret.
“Emily, Mum needs full-time care—either you take her or stay.”
“Are you joking? Our place is freshly renovated—do you know what that cost?!” Emily scoffed.
“So you’re abandoning her?”
“We’ve done our time. Your turn!”
Olivia hung up, shaking.
Margaret returned to an empty flat. Emily had already left.
“Olivia, Emily’s not answering—is everything alright?” Margaret fretted.
“They’re in Spain. Don’t worry—just rest.”
Olivia and James took Margaret in. It hurt Olivia to watch her mother realize too late how used she’d been.
“Olivia, I’m so sorry… I spent my life ignoring you, pushing you aside. And look at you—everything you’ve built. I’ll never forgive myself…”
“Mum, it’s over now. Why not take a few private pupils? You’re still a wonderful teacher.”
“I won’t be in your way?”
“Don’t be silly. We love having you here.”
Weeks later, Emily called. Olivia thought guilt had finally struck.
“Olivia—so Mum’s staying with you for good?”
“Yes. She’s recovering well—even teaching again.”
“Great. I’ll rent her flat out, then. Jake’s tutors are extortionate these days—”
“Emily—!” The line went dead.
Olivia stared at the phone, realizing some hearts never change—only circumstances do.
