**Diary Entry 18th May**
I cant believe it. Emilys parents bought her a flata proper three-bed in one of those fancy new developments in Kensington. Rebecca was on the phone earlier, practically vibrating with envy. Can you believe it, Charlotte? she hissed. A three-bed, in Kensington! And here we are, still stuck in this one-bed rental in Camden with dodgy plumbing.
I glanced around our cramped little flat, the cheap IKEA curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. The upstairs neighbours had flooded us again last week, and the landlord still hadnt bothered to fix it. Meanwhile, Emilys place has floor-to-ceiling windows, a concierge, andbloody hellunderground parking.
Shes a good sort, Emily, I said, trying to sound neutral. Deserves a bit of luck.
Deserves it? Rebecca scoffed, twisting a strand of her salon-perfect blonde hair. By still living off Mummy and Daddy at twenty-eight? Working part-time at that little bookshop in Hampstead?
I sighed. Be fair, Becs
Fair? She marched to the window, yanking the curtain aside. My Olivertheir own son!works himself to the bone as a senior manager. And were still scraping by, renting this shoebox. Meanwhile, golden-child Emily gets handed a bloody penthouse!
I hesitated. Have you talked to his parents? Maybe they dont realise how tight things are.
Rebeccas reflection in the window was flawlessslim, polished, her designer blouse (bought half-price in the Harrods sale) hugging her frame just right. No one would guess wed been eating supermarket meal deals for a week.
I tried, she muttered. At Olivers birthday last month. I said, Wouldnt it be lovely to host in our own place one day? His mum just smiled and passed around more cake.
And Oliver?
Oliver! She let out a bitter laugh. He said, Lets get Emily a houseplant for her new flat! Isnt it brilliant shes finally got her own place?
I winced. Thats nice of him.
Nice? His sisters got a three-bed in bloody Kensington, and hes thrilled! We went to see it before they bought. Ninety square metres, floor-to-ceiling windows! My entire flat could fit in her ensuite!
Becs, I said firmly, youre winding yourself up. Maybe dont
No, Char, she dropped her voice to a whisper, Im saying something tomorrow at the housewarming. Let them see what its like when favouritism gets called out. Ill ask, right in front of everyonewhy does one child get everything, and the other gets sod all?
I groaned. Dont. Youll start World War Three.
Im done keeping quiet! Five years weve lived like this. For my birthday, his mum gave me a bloody handbag. A handbag! And Emily gets a flat worth a million quid! She smoothed her hair, her manicured nails catching the light. Oliver earns well, but half his salary goes on rent, and the rest on keeping me presentable. I cant turn up to his work dos looking like I shop at Primark!
The front door clicked open.
Thats him, she hissed. Talk tomorrow.
She hung up just as Oliver walked intall, tousle-haired, his shirt slightly rumpled from work. He grinned, holding up a bag. Got us dinner. Sorry Im latemeeting ran over. Your favourite, those posh croissants from Waitrose.
Lovely, she said, kissing his cheek, eyeing the supermarket bag with disdain. How was your day?
Brilliant! So chuffed for Em. Shes been saving for years, and Mum and Dad finally helped her over the line. He started unpacking the groceries.
Rebecca bit her lip. Fine. Tomorrow, shed say her piece. No more pretending.
—
The next morning, she spent two hours getting ready. The cream Reformation dresslast seasons salehugged her figure perfectly. Conservative, but striking.
Becs, well be late! Oliver called from the kitchen. Em asked us to come early, help with the furniture.
Coming, she said, giving her hair a final flick. Cant she manage on her own?
Oliver appeared in the doorway. Whats got into you? She just needs a hand.
Of course, Rebecca said sweetly. Why lift a finger when big brothers around?
He frowned. Youre in a mood.
She met his eyes in the mirror. His were warm, concerned. For a second, guilt prickledthen she remembered Emilys bloody ensuite.
Im fine, she said stiffly. Lets go.
The development was obscenely poshgleaming glass, manicured lawns, a security guard who eyed them like they might nick the silver. Her stomach twisted as they crossed the marble lobby.
Two concierges, Oliver said cheerfully in the lift. Underground parking. Pretty swanky, eh?
Swanky, she echoed.
Emily greeted them at the doorpetite, in jeans and a loose blouse, her smile genuine. Not the smug homeowner Rebecca had imagined.
Ollie! Becs! So glad youre here!
Rebecca forced a smile, stepping inside. The hallway alone was bigger than their kitchen.
Bit of a mess, Emily said, gesturing to neatly stacked boxes.
Lovely entrance, Rebecca said, slipping off her heels. Must be nice, all this space.
Theres even a walk-in, Emily said, pointing. Dunno what Ill put in it.
Dont worry, Rebecca said coolly. Youll fill it. Now that youve got the room.
Oliver shot her a look.
Come on, Ill show you round! Emily led them through. Living roomlook at those windows! And the balcony!
Rebeccas chest tightened. Stunning. Whats the going rate for this sort of happiness?
Rebecca. Olivers voice was sharp.
She batted her lashes. Just curious. Maybe well get lucky one day.
Emily flushed. Becs, you know my parents worked
Worked, and somehow youre the one with the flat. Funny, that.
Silence. Emilys fingers twisted her sleeve. Olivers jaw clenched.
Outside. Now. He pulled her onto the balcony.
What the hell? she snapped.
Youre embarrassing yourself.
Am I? She glared. Five years weve rented that dump. Five! And she gets handed thislike its nothing!
It wasnt nothing, he said, voice low. Our parents offered me a flat three years ago. I turned it down.
She froze. What?
I said Em needed it more. Shes on a librarians wage. Id earn mine.
Her stomach dropped. You never told me.
Would you have understood? He shook his head. Today proved you wouldnt.
Inside, guests were arriving. Emily, red-eyed, accepted congratulations. Their mumsoft-spoken, in a simple dresskept glancing their way.
They couldve bought two flats, Rebecca muttered.
They saved for twenty years. Dad took extra shifts. Mum tutored evenings. And you waltz in counting their money.
Her throat tightened. I just wanted
I know what you wanted. His voice was weary. But Im done. Done with the tallying, the envy, the way you treat my family.
Her pulse spiked. What?
Remember when we met? You laughed at everything. Now? You just count other peoples luck.
She reached for him. Ollie
He stepped back. Go home. Or stay and mean it when you congratulate Em. Your choice.
He walked inside, leaving her on the balcony. She watched him hug Emily, saw their parents relax.
In the lift down, her reflection was perfecthair, makeup, dress. Only her eyes were hollow.
Outside, rain misted the pavement. She touched up her lipstick out of habit, but for the first time in years, she didnt care if it was flawless.
