28October2025
Dear Diary,
Today has left me feeling raw, as if the walls of my own flat have turned against me. It began when my sister, Vera Thompson, rang my doorbell bright and early, a tone that sounded more like an invitation than a warning. I hadnt even unpacked my suitcases properly when I arrived three hours ago, the bag still perched beside the sofa in the livingroom.
Come in, Ada, Vera said, her arms crossed, voice a sharp clang of anger. I told you to get out of my housenow!
I stared at her, bewildered. Whats happened, Vera? I asked, my tone trying to stay calm while my throat tightened. You asked me to stay while my flat is being refurbished
Ive changed my mind, she snapped, cutting me off. Pack your things and leave this instant. Ill call a cab for you, if you must.
My hands trembled as I lifted the bag. It struck me how long it had been since wed seen each otheralmost two years, ever since Mums funeral. The memory of Veras warm phone call, her promise that I could crash on her couch while the works were underway, now felt like a cruel joke.
Ill be quick, I whispered, fighting back tears.
Vera tapped her fingers against the door frame, watching me pull out the few belongings Id managed to stow. Her face remained a mask, only the tension in her jaw betrayed any hint of feeling.
When I reached the doorway she looked at me, our mirrored brown eyes and the same high cheekbones staring back at each other. Yet in that moment she seemed a stranger.
Goodbye, I said, stepping over the threshold.
Goodbye, she echoed, slamming the door shut.
The stairs down were a blur as I replayed the last phone conversation wed had a week ago. Ada, come over, Veras voice had been unusually gentle. Stay with me while the flat gets sorted. Its high time we patched things up, dont you think?
Are you sure? Id asked cautiously. After everything thats happened
Forget it! Were sisters. Yes, weve had our spats, but its time to move on. Come Saturday; Ill pick you up.
And now, standing outside with my bag, I tried to piece together what had twisted Veras mood in just three hours. Shed welcomed me, laid out food, asked about my life, then vanished into another room to take a call. When she returned she seemed a completely different person.
My phone buzzed: Black cab will be at the curb in seven minutes. Wait for it. I sighed, stepped out into the drizzle that had begun to fall, set my bag on the wet pavement, and pulled my coat tighter. I needed somewhere to go, and the only name that came to mind was Paul Harris, an old schoolmate wed both been texting lately. He lives alone in a twobedroom flat in Camden, and I imagined hed be willing to let me crash for a few days.
Paul? Ada here Im in a bit of a bind, I said as soon as he answered.
He listened without interruption, gave me his address, and said, Dont worry, Ill be waiting. Youll be safe there.
In the cab I finally let the tears flow. The hurt burned hotwhat had I ever done to deserve this cold shoulder? Had the old argument over Mums house resurfaced? After Mum died, Vera wanted to sell the family flat and split the proceeds, while I fought to keep it because every brick held a memory of her. I bought her share, went into debt, and held onto the place. Perhaps thats still a wound for her.
The cab pulled up at Pauls building. I paid the driver and stepped out. He greeted me with a grin, taking my bag. Come on, lets get you inside.
His flat was cosy, the kettle already whistling. He poured tea, handed me a biscuit, and let me pour out my story. When I finished, he frowned thoughtfully.
Something feels off, he said. Vera didnt just invite you for a stay, did she? Something else must have happened while you were there.
I dont think so, I replied. We had tea, chatted about her work, her recent trip to Brighton. Then she got a call, went into the spare room, and when she came back she was sharp.
Did she say what the call was about? Paul asked.
Im not sure. She spoke quietly, but when she returned she started asking how long I intended to stay, even though wed agreed on a fortnight.
I told him about the renovation crew Vera had recommendedpeople she said were friends of her exhusband, cheap and reliable. I hadnt checked on them because I trusted Vera.
Lets go see for ourselves, Paul suggested. Ive got a bad feeling.
We drove back to my flat. The walk up the stairs made my stomach twist. From the hallway came muffled voices and the scrape of furniture being moved.
Someones in there, I whispered, freezing.
Paul took the key from my hand and pushed the door open. Boxes and suitcases were stacked haphazardly. In the living room, amid the chaos, Vera was standing with two burly movers, gesturing at a large wardrobe.
What on earth is happening? I demanded, my voice shaking.
Vera turned, surprise flashing across her face before turning to annoyance.
Ada? What are you doing here?
Thats my question! What are you doing in my flat?
She brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking guilty.
I can explain
I hope you can, I said, crossing my arms just as she had done to me earlier.
The movers hesitated, then Paul asked them to step back. Vera sighed heavily and sank onto the couch.
Im divorcing Ian, she blurted. He kicked me out of our house and I have nowhere to go. I thought I could stay here until I find something else.
So you lured me out, lied about the refurbishment, and tried to move into my flat? I shouted, feeling my hands tremble with anger.
Its not exactly that, she replied, eyes downcast. I really wanted us to reconcile, to spend some time together and mend things. But then I realised I couldnt. Too many things piled up between us, Ada.
Is that why you tried to take my home? I asked, the words coming out raw. To steal it from me?
I I made up the whole renovation story just to get you to come, Vera admitted, a grimace on her lips. I thought if you were here I could convince you to let me stay, but youre too stubborn.
Its not stubbornness, Vera. Its you manipulating and betraying your own sister! I snapped. What happened to you?
Youre always Mums favourite, getting everything handed to you on a silver platter. And now the flat too, she erupted. If wed sold it then I could have bought my own place and not been dependent on Ian all these years!
Its not about the money, I said quietly. Its about the fact you never respected my wishes about Mums house. I bought you out, even if it took a while. Youre still angry.
The anger isnt about the cash, she shouted. Its that you never cared about my feelings. You only think of yourself!
I cared, Vera. I still do. Im trying to give you a chance to fix this.
She looked confused. What do you mean?
You have two options: pack up and leave my flat right now, or Ill call the police for illegal occupation.
Paul stepped forward. Ada, perhaps theres a middle ground? Youre sisters, after all.
No compromise, I replied firmly. Im exhausted by your games. You decideleave now or face the authorities.
Vera stared at me with hatred, but the resolve in my eyes seemed to break her. Fine. Ill go, she muttered, gathering her things. Dont think this is the end.
She slammed the door an hour later. I collapsed onto the couch, feeling hollow and weary.
Do you want to stay here with me? Paul asked gently, sitting down beside me.
If youre not busy, I said, grateful for his presence. I could use some company.
He took my hand. I think Vera is going through a rough patchdivorce, no roof over her head. That doesnt excuse what she did, but it explains a lot.
I know, I sighed. After Mum died, we drifted apart. She pushed the sale of the house while I clung to it as the last tie to her. Its been a constant fight.
He squeezed my hand. Grief shows up in strange ways. Maybe for her its a way to avoid the pain.
Its too much to forgive right now, I admitted. She tricked me, stole my home, and made me feel like a trespasser in my own life.
Give yourself time, Paul advised. And her too. When the anger eases, maybe you can talk calmly.
Ill try, I whispered. The evening settled into quiet, the house still echoing with Veras brief presence. It struck me how the sister Id once leaned on had become almost an enemy, while an old schoolmate turned out to be a steadier rock than blood.
Thank you, I said to Paul, breaking the silence. I dont know what Id have done without you today.
Anytime, he smiled. How about we plan a weekend out? A film or a walk in Hyde Park?
I laughed, a small, genuine sound. Id like that.
A week later my phone buzzed againVeras name flashing on the screen. My thumb hovered over the call button, then over the hangup. I answered.
Ada? We need to talk, she said, voice wavering.
What about? I asked, my tone cool.
I I wanted to apologise. What I did was wrong. Im really sorry, she stammered.
I held my breath, unsure what to say.
Im in a tough spot right now, but that doesnt excuse me. I shouldnt have treated you like that, she continued.
You shouldnt have, I agreed.
I understand youre angry, and you have every right to be, Veras voice trembled. I just hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. Were still sisters, after all.
I exhaled slowly. I need time, Vera. Ill think about it.
Of course, she replied, relief evident. Thank you for listening.
After we hung up I stared out the window, the rain having stopped, the city lights glinting on the wet streets. Vera, flaws and all, was still my only remaining family after Mum. Perhaps, with time, I could let go of the hurt. For now, though, I needed to heal my own wounds and learn to trust again.
A moment later Paul texted: How about a walk in the park tomorrow? Looks like sunny weather.
I smiled and typed back: Sounds perfect.
Life goes on, stubborn as ever. Maybe one day Vera and I will truly make amends. Until then, Im learning to cherish those who really stand by me in the dark, and to let go of toxic ties, even when theyre bound by blood.
Ada.
