Betrayed by Her Own: The Heartbreaking Story of Dasha, the Overlooked Sister, and the True Meaning o…

The Betrayal of Ones Own Children

Once more, little Daisy gazed in awe at her brother and sister. My, how handsome they were! Tall, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. They were being celebrated again, yet another trophy added to their collection from the local athletics meet. She rose to her feet, eager to reach them first, limping slightly on her right leg as she hurried across the village hall. Daisy had knitted each of them a rabbitone in a little skirt, the other in smart checkered trousers. She so wanted to give them her presents.

Awkward, plump, wisps of fair hair clumsily pinned back, Daisys lips bore only an innocent smile. Christina and Mark acted as though they did not see her struggling forwards through the crowd.

Please, let me through. Theyre my brother and sisterplease! Daisy pleaded joyfully.

Chris, theres some fat girl calling out, says shes your sister Is that true? piped up Liza, Christinas best friend, her blonde curls shining in the lights.

Christina barely glanced over her shoulder, catching Daisys round face.

Stupid cow! Of course shes turned up. Bet Mum told her to. Utter embarrassment! Christina thought, whilst aloud she said, No, of course not. I have only one brother, Mark.

Thought as much! Trying to muscle in, is she? What a wretchlook, shes thrusting some daft toys at you, Liza sneered.

Must be our local little groupie. Take the toys, would you, Liza, and catch us up. Mark and I are off! Christina blew a mocking kiss, grabbed her brothers arm, and steered him away.

Liza took Daisys rabbits, promising to pass them on.

Alright! Ill wait for you at home. Ill bake some Chelsea buns! Daisy called, limping away with more hope than expectation.

Here, these are for you. Shell be waiting at home, says shell bake for you. Looks like a bun herself. Chris, shes not one of yours, is she? Whats she after? Liza demanded.

No! Never seen her before. Loads of people try to sidle up to us, you knowclouts all they want. Lets go! Christina tossed Daisys rabbits into the dustbin as she swept away with Liza and Mark, heading for the awards.

She lied to her friend, of course. Daisy was her sister, but only a step-sister. Christinas mother, Mrs. Agnes Webb, had brought Daisy home after a distant cousin had died, leaving Daisy orphaned after a tragic accident on the way home from a family holiday. She was just a little girl then, and slightly lame.

Agnes Webb was really only a far-off relationbarely a connection by marriage and name. Closer family refused to take Daisy in, but Agnes did, enduring tempests from her husband and her own children, who raged when they heard they would gain another sister.

Mumdont take her in! Shes fat, limps, and thick. Wed be mortified just walking next to her!

My dears, shes just a child, so alone. People take in stray dogs and catsare we worse than them? We have a big houseshe wont be in the way, Agnes pleaded.

Reluctantly, Christina and Mark agreedthey had little choice, not when Mum was the one with most of the family earnings from her post as grocers manager. Their father, Arthur Webb, was only her assistant and rarely troubled himself, spending his time on various clandestine affairs. If Agnes suspected, she never said a wordArthur was as handsome as a prince from a picture book, and the children took after him.

Daisy grew. Small and comical, her hair was pale, her eyes the same curious blue as Christina and Marks, yet so faint they seemed washed out.

Her eyes are like milk mixed with blue. And shes a porker! Christina would laugh.

Daisy was just like a sweet bun: soft, round cheeks with dimples, always gentle. Yet she played alone, for her brother and sister never let her join in, and she caught the brunt of their mischief. When Mark smashed a vase dashing past, and when Christina pulled a thread from their mothers new jumper, it was always Daisy who was blamed.

And she never protestedshe would just nod sadly and whisper apologies. She knew who had done what, but never wanted them scolded, for they were so beautiful.

Agnes, though not Daisys real mother, never shouted, but Arthur let his temper fly.

Why, oh why, did you bring this scarecrow into our house? She cant even walk right, weighs more than a calf. Our own son and daughter look like theyve stepped out of heaven, and now you saddle us with this mess? Even the clever folk wouldnt take her! Who would want her when shes grown? That fright?

Daisy would hear him from behind the door. Shed creep to the mirror and sighshe so wished she could be as lovely as Mark and Christina, but it seemed impossible.

She was sent to another schoolChristina and Mark insisted. They threatened to skip lessons and ruin their grades otherwise. Agnes saw the delicate bridge she had struggled to build between her birth children and her adopted daughter was near collapse, and there was nothing she could do.

Time passed. Mark and Christina left for university. Daisy, meanwhile, didnt want to go.

You can study anywhere you like, love, Agnes promised. Ill pay for anythingdesign, languages, anything you want, darling!

Daisy nuzzled her mothers cheek, kitten-like, and hugged her. With Daisy, warmth spread in Agness heart: her own children, by contrast, might peck her on the cheekand that, only begrudgingly.

Daisy was always there to meet her from work, rain or shine, chilling in the garden or perched on the hallway stool. Her father and siblings would only greet her if they happened to be passing.

When Agnes once raised the matter of meeting their mother at the door, Christina snapped, Mum, were busy! That idiot waits because she have nothing better to do! Not a dream in her head.

Daisy turned her clear gaze on her mother and murmured, Mum, may I look after animals? Dogs, catseven hamsters and pigs. I want to be a vet. Theres a college in the village where I could qualify.

It was no surpriseDaisy always brought home waifs: kittens, puppies, took care of them and found them homes. One great mongrel dog stayed with themChristina had objected, wanting something more elegant, but Agnes sided with Daisy.

And so the years drifted on. Forced by ill health to stay home, Agnes found Arthur gonehed quickly moved in with her hairdresser chum, once the family funds began to run dry.

The children only called when they needed money, which fortunately she still had. Only Daisy remained at her sidehobbling, yet cooking treats, giving her mother massages, blending herbal teas. On summer evenings, they would sit under the old apple tree together over a pot of tea; Daisy, in that moment, was happier than anyone alive.

Christina and Mark had families of their own. Agnes helped them with their first houses, but then a crisis struck. One night, Mark arrived at four in the morning, all but in tears, saying his debts were immense.

Whats this? Where would I get so much, my dear boy? Have you asked your father? Theres nothing! Even if I gave you everything, itd be a tenth of what you need What are we to do? Agnes clasped her hands to her chest in distress.

Well, thats the end of it, Mum. Youll be no mother of mine if you cant help, Mark sneered.

How can you say such things? Agnes wept, hugging him close.

Marks solution: sell the house. It would cover the debt, if they included everything.

But what about usDaisy and mewhere will we go? she stammered.

I dont give a toss where that fat fool goes. Shes grown. Let her look after herselfshes had a free ride long enough. You can come to us! Lila will be delighted! he grinned.

Lila, his wife, hardly seemed the type to welcome a mother-in-law, but Agnes did not argueher son needed saving. She insisted, though, Daisy came too. Mark reluctantly agreed, but later Daisy took her mother aside:

Mum… Go with him. Ive somewhere to goa gentleman friend Ive been seeing has long asked me to move in. Dont you worry about me.

Who is he, darling? Why didnt you ever mention him? Agnes smiled.

Youll meet him later, you will. Dont fret, Mum! Daisy hugged her, and it was settled.

Marks mood improvedno need to involve Christina or scheme to keep Daisy out.

But Daisy had lied. She had no special someoneher sensitive heart knew she wasnt welcome. Trouble, she felt, would only come if she insisted on being with them. Daisy loved Agnes more than anyone.

She found a room to let with lonely old Mr. Percival in a cottage on the outskirts. He kept hens, goats, and even a piglet, but struggled alone. When he learned Daisy was a vet, he was overjoyed, refusing rentbut Daisy insisted, slipping shillings back in his pocket.

Now, everything fell into place. People respected her. Animals adored hertheir owners marveled.

Here you go, Spot. Good boy. Dont fretthese drops will soon help. And ring me, any hour, shed say, gently coaxing a nervous spaniel.

Oh, lovemy Barrington never gets a welcome like that, not even at the doctors! Youre a treasure! Mrs. Hudson, owner of the grandest cat in the village, declared.

But Daisys heart ached for her mother. She called often, but Agnes seemed reluctant to chat, and recently Mark would pick up, brusquely saying she was resting.

I dont know, Daisy sighed one evening over tea with Mr. Percival. Its been half a year since I saw Mum.

Why not visit? Ill drive youmy old Morris still works, and Ive a full licence! offered Mr. Percival.

Delighted, Daisy found Marks address, and off they went. After much knocking, the door finally swung open to reveal tall, yawning Lila, in her dressing gown.

Who are you? Sellers? We dont want anything, she snapped, trying to shut the door.

You must be LilaMarks wife? Daisy ventured.

Yes And you are?

Daisyhis sister.

Right. What do you want? Im off to my facial in a mo, no time for this!

I shant stay long. This is Mr. Percival. Wheres Mum? I must see herjust a quick visit, I promise, Daisy entreated.

Shes not here. Mark took her to some home. She was bed-bound. Whos got time to look after her? Marks at work, Ive things to do. Where exactly? Not surenever gone myself. Hold on. Lila rang her husband, disdainfully. This Daisy, your sister, is here with some ancient bloke. They want the address. Fine, Ill scribble it down. And dont come again! she snapped, dousing Daisy in expensive perfume.

Daisy barely heard. With Mr. Percival, she hurried down.

This cant be If only Id knownthough I have no home of my own, Id have found something. Why didnt they tell me? she whispered.

You shouldve had her at ours, Daisy! Theres space, and itd be the decent thing. They had no right to keep you in the dark, Mr. Percival fumed.

They finally arrived. Was this frail, sunken little woman Daisys mother? Once tall, rosy, bustling with energy, now she lay helpless.

Mum! Its me, Daisy! Mummy, forgive meI should have visited Please, come home with me. Well live with Mr. Percivalhes got hens, Ill feed you fresh eggs, and goats milk will make you well in no time! Mum, I love you!

At last, all the paperwork and Mr. Percivals appeal to his old war connections prevailed, and they took Agnes homeDaisys name was, after all, on record as her daughter.

On the tenth day, Agnes got out of bed, walked to the window, and gazed at the peaceful yard. The pig trotted about. The cockerel crowed. The air smelled of grass, milk, and warm Chelsea bunsDaisys baking.

Daisy hobbled into the room and saw her mother standing there in tears. Awkwardly, she rushed to embrace her, apologising over and over for the delay, for moving in with her, not with the glamorous twins.

Agnes held her close, as if shed found her own dear girl againnot of her blood, but filled with kindness, the only one beside her in her hour of need.

Its alright, sweetheart. Everything will be well for us now. It will, darlingI promise, Agnes whispered.

Girlsshall we have some tea? called Mr. Percival, poking his head in.

And laughing, hand in hand, the three of them went to the sitting room, beginning a brand new chapter of their lives together.