How Could She Do That?! She Didn’t Ask, Didn’t Even Consult Me! Imagine Turning Up at Someone Else’s…

How could she do that? Didnt even ask! No phone call, not a word! Just waltzes into someone elses home and takes over as if she owns the place. No respect at all! Goodness, what have I done to deserve this? My whole life, Ive looked after her, and how does she thank me? She doesnt even treat me as a proper person! Eleanor flicked away a tear, her voice echoing in her head, And what does she know of living? She doesnt like my life, apparently! She should look to her own! Sat in her poky little flat, thinking shes living the dream. No husband worth the salt, not even a real job; she works from home, for goodness sake! How does she survive? And yet she thinks she can tell me how to run my affairs? Ive already been through what shes only just starting to imagine!

This last thought jolted Eleanor from her armchair. She trudged to the kitchen, set the kettle to boil, and drifted toward the window.

Peering out at the city, all glitter and laughter for New Years Eve, she began to sob softly: Everyone else is getting ready to celebrate, and here I amalone as a cloud

The kettle shrieked into the dream, but she barely noticed, awash in memories

She was twenty when her mother, at the age of forty-five, had a second child. The whole thing seemed baffling to Eleanor at the timewhy on earth would her mum take on such a burden?

I just dont want you all alone in the world, her mum told her. Its lovely to have a sisteryoull see, one day.

I get it already, Eleanor had replied breezily. But mind, Im not playing nursemaid. Ive got my own life, you know.

Not anymore, love, her mum smiled with a knowing look.

Those words turned out to be a prophecy. Her little sister was just three when their mother died suddenly. Their father had gone years before. And so, all the care in the world fell squarely on Eleanors shoulders. She was sister, parent, everything. Little Harriet called her Mum right up to the age of ten.

Eleanor never did marry. It wasnt just Harrietshed simply never crossed paths with her one and only. Not that shed had time or opportunity: her life was a endless patternhome, work, Harriet; home, work, Harriet. Shed aged overnight, forgotten what it was like to be carefree. Her life was raising her sister, educating her, making sure she lacked for nothing.

Now Harriet was an adult; she lived in a modern flat, planning her own wedding. The sisters were close, but so different in temperament and outlookmiles apart in age, too.

Eleanor clung to everything. Her flat, over the years, had grown into a repository for forgotten relics. If you searched, you might dig out a housecoat from a decade ago, back when Eleanor was slender. Or find ancient rent receipts from twenty years past.

Her kitchen cupboards groaned under the weight of chipped mugs, enamel pans with bits missing, frying pans minus their handles. She hadnt used half these things in years but couldnt bear to throw them awaywhat if they were needed, one day?

Even giving the place a fresh lick of paint or changing a single room hadnt occurred in ages. Not for lack of funds, but because, as she told herself, The wallpaper isnt falling off yet.

She had learned, for Harriets sake, to save every penny, giving herself nothing, growing numb to her own comfort.

Harriet, though, couldnt be more different: light, bubbly, ready for anything. Her own place was empty of clutter, bright and spacious. She had a rule: If you havent used something in twelve monthsout it goes!

This was why Harriets place was so easy to breathe in, so cheerful.

Time and again, shed pleaded with Eleanor: Lets redo your flat. Well get rid of some of the junktherell be room for you to live!

Eleanor was always adamant. Im not throwing anything out, Im not changing, no redecorating needed.

But just look at your hallway! These wallpapered walls are as old as the building! Its like stepping into a crypt. And all this stuffitll make you ill. Believe me, its not good for you!

But Eleanor brushed her off, stubborn as always.

Then, Harriet decided to surprise her. Without asking. Shed make a difference whether Eleanor wanted it or not. Shed transform just the hallwayit was small, filled with little furniture, fewer things to disturb.

A week before New Year, with Eleanor away on a long late shift (she worked in shifts, even now), Harriet and her fiancé, Tom, let themselves inthey both had keys, as sisters doand set to work. They stripped off the dark, heavy wallpaper and chose something lightpale green with golden vines. They rearranged everything, not daring to throw anything away, and crept out again.

Eleanor, returning home, recoiled in the stairwell, sure shed made a mistake. She checked the number on her own front door. It was right

She ventured in again.

She understood at once.

Harriet!

How dare she?

Eleanor punched in Harriets number on the phone, vented all her anger, every hurt, put down the receiver.

Half an hour later, Harriet was at the door.

Who asked you?! Eleanor all but shouted in her face.

I just wanted to make you happya treat, you know? Look how nice it is: clean, bright, open Harriet pleaded.

Dont meddle in my home! Eleanor could hardly contain herself.

Harsh words spilled between themHarriet flinched under the barrage.

Finally, Harriets voice wobbled: Enough. Im done. Live in your rubbish tip if you like. Im not coming here again!

Oh, truth hurts, doesnt it? Off you go, run away!

I just feel sorry for you, Harriets voice was thin, then she was gone

She didnt call all week. Never before had the sisters fallen out for so long. And now, with New Years nearly here, would they be alone for it?

Eleanor wandered to the hallway and perched on the low stool.

And actually, it is more spacious now she conceded, picturing Harriet and Tom, how they mustve worked, careful not to crease a seam, how theyd imagined her surprise and delight. Why did I lose my temper? Its far nicer, lighter, almost happy-making. Perhaps Harriets right

Suddenly, the phone rang, jarring in the hush.

Ellie Harriets voice was thick from crying, Im so sorry. I only wanted you to be happy. Honestly, I meant it as a gift

No, no, my love, I havent been angry for ages, Eleanor sniffled, overcome. And theres nothing to forgive: youre right. The wallpapers beautiful. After the holidays, maybe maybe youll help me sort all my old junk? If youre up for it.

Of course! Id love to help! But what about tonight? On New Years Eve? I dont want to be without you, not tonight

I feel the same

Well, get your things together! Harriet rattled off with her usual cheer, Weve got everything ready: a real tree, fairy lights, candlesjust as you like. Dont fussIve already done the shopping. I knew youd end up rushing the shops last minute, you always do. I just knew wed make up and see in the New Year together. Take your timeTom will come get you.

Eleanor moved to the window. Now the citys festive lights shone in her eyes not as distant glitter but as friendly beacons.

She gazed out and thought, Thank you, Mum for giving me a sister.She pressed a hand gently to her chest, warmth blooming where cold habit had settled so long. In the hallway, the pale green walls glimmered softly in the lamplight. Eleanor picked up her scarf and hatonce she would have hesitated, fretted about leaving things just so, but now she smiled, care falling away like winter snow from a window ledge.

As she locked the door behind her, she paused. For the first time, she didnt need to look back and count her losses. Love, even when loud and clumsy, always meant the mess was worth it.

On the street, Toms car waited, headlights winking. Harriet waved from the front seat, her face bright with hope.

Eleanor took one last deep, grateful breath of the cold December air and stepped forward, feeling suddenly young againevery step toward forgiveness and laughter, every step toward the welcoming hearth of the only family shed ever made her own.

At midnight, when the city erupted in fireworks and shouts, two sisters embraced beneath new lights and old memories, promising, as the old year faded, never to let the distance between them grow dark again.