Siblings

Siblings -- fifteen episodes of fifty words

Mary is my younger sister who always wants to do better than me. She might have done well at university except she enjoyed the social life, and men, too much. I worked to get a first. She got a second and resented me for it. But she had enjoyed herself.

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"Why, Helen, why do you choose such drips for boyfriends?" Mary asked.

"Because they treat me with respect, unlike yours," I retorted.

That was unfair of me. We had just dumped our boyfriends and were hurting. Mary still had the bruises from being slapped around for daring to ditch hers.

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Mary's just ended relationship had left her with visible and invisible bruises. She had liked his bad boy attitude, his powerful motorcycle, and his adventurous acts. She had thought he would improve with time and loving. It didn't work. Her love generated contempt, not reciprocation. Her love withered and died.

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For once we went out together as sisters, to a decorous dance hall. There was no alcohol and genteel behaviour. Ladies sat at the sides waiting to be asked to dance. I had my eye on Alan but I was dancing when he asked Mary. She swiped him from me.

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Mary was on the rebound when she danced with Alan. He wasn't really her type but she had suffered physical and mental abuse from the bad boys she had loved. Alan was a relief, a prop, a refuge and her sister was jealous. That was the reason for the engagement.

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As I thought, Mary's engagement to Alan couldn't last. He wanted stability and the conventional marriage with a house, mortgage, kids and a pension. She wanted to enjoy today, dragging him to events he hated, drinking too much and ruining his finances. I watched and waited, hoping for leftover love.

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I protested when Mary ditched her fiancé Alan for being too boring. He heard my objection. Mary moved on to Roy. Months later Alan was my faithful fiancé. After a year Mary was chief bridesmaid when I married Alan. I was a reluctant matron of honour as she married Roy.

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Mary and Roy approached sex like a battle. One of them had to win. The noise of their encounters was disturbing. Sometimes I worried that murder was in progress. They emerged apparently satisfied but showing signs of conflict. Alan worshipped me. I didn't need to fight him, just reciprocate love.

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Sex with boring Alan was slow and unadventurous at first. But he loved me and would do whatever I asked -- eventually. I had to teach him to express his obvious love in actions, not just words. I enjoyed teaching him. He was a slow learner but his trust was limitless.

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Five years after we married I had two children and a mortgaged house. Mary and Roy still lived in a rented flat. They couldn't afford children. They were partying hard, affecting their employment. Mary and Roy argued frequently about money. I was in love with my staid, reliable, boring Alan.

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Seven years after Mary and I had married I was still in love with Alan, knowing he loved me. Mary was divorcing Roy for multiple infidelities, trying to conceal her own. She spent hours in our house complaining about her erring husband -- but she still thought my Alan was boring.

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After the divorce Mary hadn't changed. She had a succession of lovers most of whom were prepared to spend money on her. She had managed to buy a small city centre apartment. I protested that she was prostituting herself. Her response:

"So what? I'm enjoying myself, not vegetating like you."

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Fifteen years on I was concerned about Aunt Mary's influence on our University aged children. She was always so glamorous, mixed with the movers and shakers and had a succession of devoted toy-boys. I shouldn't worry. Our children were like their parents, staid and hard-working. Mary was a glittering apparition.

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It's so unfair! I'm a doting grandmother but I look like one. Mary seems decades younger than me instead of a couple of years. She still exudes glamour unlike my greying hair. Alan and I have worked hard to reach financial stability. Mary achieved more, just by opening her legs.

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Mary and I are sisters. We are still sisters even in our old age. We have competed, as siblings will, but at heart we stand together against the world. I have had my staid, boring, but loving Alan. She has had more lovers. At Alan's graveside we are sisters together.

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