I often think back to those days in London, when the markethouse on the Citys edge was the centre of our world. Eleanor, the elder sister, had always seemed to glide through life, while I, Lucy, fought to keep up.
Do you want to know why Im fed up? Eleanor shouted one afternoon, her voice cracking with frustration. Because Im tired of always being secondbest! In school you were top of the class, every teacher sang your praises. At university you graduated with firstclass honours, while I barely scraped through my resits. At work you keep getting promotions and bonuses, and Im stuck in the same role! I want a proper salary and the respect of the bosses, understand? I want to be first too!
She slammed her laptop shut and flopped back in her swivel chair, sighing. There goes another scolding from the manager, she muttered.
I turned from my screen, a halfsmile playing on my lips. You made a mistake in the report, didnt you? Were you expecting a pat on the head for that?
Eleanor pursed her lips and stared out the window, her cheeks flushing with hurt. I ignored her sour look and began to pack away my things. The workday finally ended; the files slid neatly into a folder, the coffee mug found its way to the sink.
She walked in silence down the corridor. Only when the doors of the office block closed behind us did she speak again. Its easy for you to laugh. Youre perfect, arent you?
I exhaled. Those conversations had become all too familiar lately. Eleanor used to brush off criticism with a joke and move on; now there was a bitterness in every word.
I simply do my job well, Lucy. You can, too.
Of course, of course, she replied drily.
We had both been in the procurement department of a major trading firm for three years. I had joined first, and six months later helped Eleanor get her foot in the door. Wed always been close, supporting each other in everything, yet our approaches to work were worlds apart.
I stayed late, poring over supplier markets, comparing terms from dozens of firms before making a decision. Eleanor preferred a more relaxed pace doing the bare minimum by the deadline, then spending the rest of the day on her phone or chatting in the staff kitchen. I never judged her for seeing life differently; each to his own.
A month ago, the company called me into the directors office and offered a promotion senior procurement manager with a tidy increase in salary, a few thousand pounds a year. I was taken aback but accepted straight away; years of diligent work had finally paid off.
Eleanor hugged me and congratulated me, but I saw her smile fade almost instantly, her words sounding strained. That evening we went to a nearby café to celebrate, yet the atmosphere felt off. She kept steering the conversation toward salaries, asking how much more I would now earn and how many extra hours Id have to put in.
Youre lucky the bosses noticed you, she said, halfjoking. Otherwise youd be stuck on the backbench, she added.
Lucky? I asked. I spent two months on that project without a day off.
Exactly, she replied, smirking.
Six months later I was appointed head of the whole department. The news spread through the office like wildfire. Colleagues shook my hand, offered congratulations, wished me luck. Eleanor was the last to come over. She hugged me and whispered, Congrats. Youre a real big shot now.
There was no warmth in those words. I stared into her eyes and saw something cold and alien, as if a snake were coiled there.
In the weeks that followed, the offices atmosphere shifted subtly but inexorably. Lunch invitations stopped. Oleg from the adjacent department no longer stopped by with his morning tea. Colleagues gave dry, polite nods and turned away. Whispers and suppressed snickers rose behind my back; anyone who glanced my way pretended to be buried in work.
I was baffled. Had my promotion turned them against me? I had never been a tyrant; I never shouted at subordinates or set impossible targets.
One evening, as I was about to leave, Marina, a fellow analyst, knocked on my door, looking nervous.
Come in, I said. Whats the matter?
She closed the door behind her and sat opposite me, her face flushing with embarrassment.
I have to tell you something. Im ashamed, but you deserve to know the truth.
I put down my pen and listened.
Lucy has been spreading rumors about you for months now. She says the ideas in your projects are really hers, that youve stolen her work, that you only got your promotion because you were a brownnoser. She claims you look down on everyone, that you think were all idiots.
Lucy? My own sister, the one Id helped into this firm? The one whose work Id quietly corrected when no one else noticed? Was she turning the whole office against me?
Are you sure you havent mixed something up? I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Absolutely. At first I didnt want to believe it. I thought maybe it was a misunderstanding. But she says it all the time, to anyone wholl listen. People start to believe it. You know how fast gossip spreads, and eventually even the wildest stories begin to feel true
I left the meeting with a heavy heart, the chill of the hallway seeping into my bones. The drive home was a blur of thoughts. Why? How? Wed always been together. Id always defended her, helped her, and now she turned against me.
Lucy opened the flats door, surprise flashing across her face.
Lucy? Whats happened? I asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. I turned to meet her eyes.
What for? she demanded. Why are you making the whole office turn against me? Why lie that I stole your ideas? Why spread those rumours?
She crossed her arms, her face flushing with indignation. What, did Marry tell you?
It doesnt matter who said it! Answer me!
Dont yell at me in my own home! Enough!
Im not shouting, Lucy. Im demanding an explanation. How could you do this? Were sisters!
She took a step forward, something fierce flickering in her eyes that Id never seen before anger? Hurt? Something else entirely?
You want to know why? she snapped. Because Im sick of always being the second one! In school you were the star, teachers adored you. At university you got a firstclass degree, and I barely scraped through. At work you keep getting raises and bonuses, while Im stuck here. I want a good salary and the bosses respect, understand? I want to be first too!
I stayed silent as she continued, her voice rising.
You were always ahead, always perfect. Eleanor brilliant, beautiful, diligent. And me? Just a shadow, a clumsy little sister who always messes things up!
You should have worked harder, I said quietly. Put in the effort, not spend your time watching videos at work or gossiping in the kitchen. If you wanted respect, earn it. But dont drag me through the mud for it.
She opened her mouth, but I turned away and stepped out of the flat. The door clicked shut behind me, and tears streamed down my cheeks, which I swiped away fiercely. I had to hold on.
The next morning I handed in a transfer request to a branch in Manchester. The HR manager raised an eyebrow but signed the paperwork without much fuss. The firm valued me and didnt want to lose a capable employee, so the move was approved within two days.
Lucy heard about it from the office gossip. She called in the evening. I stared at the caller ID before answering.
Youre moving? she said, tone flat.
Yes.
So youre running away.
No. Im just going where there wont be plots behind my back.
You betray me! Traitor! Sister, youre a
I said nothing, hung up, and the line went dead. There was nothing left to say.
Three months in Manchester flew by. The team welcomed me warmly, projects ran smoothly, and I began to forget the nightmare. Then one night Marina rang.
Lucy, have you heard? Theyve sacked Lucy.
I froze, phone pressed to my ear.
What?
Last week. She missed deadlines on three contracts, made errors in reports. Management had been patient, but finally they let her go. Everything fell apart after you left. She couldnt cope without your safety net.
I put the receiver down and sat in silence.
The following day Lucy turned up at my flats door, hair mussed, eyes red, clothes rumpled. She burst into the hallway, shouting:
Are you happy? Theyve fired me! You moved just to sabotage me, didnt you? To get back at me?
I looked at her calmly.
What am I to blame, Lucy? You had a chance to prove yourself. I didnt stop you. What did you do? You ruined everything.
This is your fault! Its you!
No. Its you who caused what happened. And now, stay away from my doorstep.
I opened the front door wide. Lucy stood frozen, unable to believe that I was truly sending her out. She turned and fled down the stairwell, the door slamming shut with a deafening bang.
An hour later our mothers voice cracked over the phone.
What have you done?! Youre responsible for Lucys dismissal! You abandoned her! selfish woman! Youve destroyed our family!
I tried to explain, spoke of the rumours, the betrayal, of Lucys own role in her downfall. She shrieked, accused, demanded I fix it.
Youve betrayed the family, Lucy. Remember that. Its a sin.
The line clicked dead.
I was left alone. My family turned their backs the moment I defended myself, the moment I stopped sacrificing for my sister. Yet I knew I could endure. I had always been strong, and now that strength was needed more than ever.
A few weeks later an email appeared from senior management: a promotion to head office in Birmingham, a new role, a fresh start. If I had ever doubted whether to accept, now I answered without hesitation.
With everyone turned against me, there was nothing holding me here. It was time to look after myself.
The weeks of moving were a whirlwind, but I settled in Birmingham quickly. I didnt look back, didnt try to mend the frayed ties. The family connections were reduced to formal holiday cards. They hadnt loved me deeply enough to stay when I chose my own path.
