It Isn't Daisy's Fault... I See That Now.

ROSIE:

I see nothing’s changed. Mum is still ensuring the world revolves around darling Daisy, whilst I’m an itch she can’t scratch.

“Did you hear, Marjory? Daisy starts at Oxford in the autumn. Two A*s and an A, eh? A child of mine, off to read Chemistry at Oxford,” she says.

No mention of the eldest daughter studying paramedic science at Teesside University, but her lack of pride is no surprise. Middlesbrough is not as prestigious. Besides, it’s me.

“We visited a few weeks ago,” Daisy states. “Truly amazing and the halls of residence are stunning.”

An Aunt Marjory cuddle follows, and she stares over, mouthing help, needing me to swoop in with a rescue. But I don’t, not immediately, because a little suffering is harmless. Eventually I conceded.

“Daisy, any chance I can borrow those shoes?” A poor excuse, but nothing else springs to mind.

Mum glares, and I know she’ll discuss my intervention later, but whatever, we disappear upstairs anyway.

“Thanks, sis,” Daisy says as the door closes. 

Our relationship has always been fractured, but I can’t blame her, not really. Mum plants ideas and she believes them.

I slink off to my cell.

It isn’t Daisy’s fault that she has gained that perspective. I see that now. With mum’s opinion drilled into her, the attitude shown is understandable, but I wish she would open her eyes and consider my point of view, just once in a while….

DAISY:

Daisy achieving such high A-Level grades was unexpected. Her Mum scrimped and saved to provide the extra tuition, so she felt obliged to work harder than desired to thank her. In Daisy’s opinion, that was unfair, as Rosie could drift along at her own pace with no pressure and still succeed.

There was a lack of enthusiasm from Rosie on results day; she remained nonchalant, as usual. When she gained her place at Teesside, Daisy showed excitement, so the least she could have done was return the favour. 

Once Aunt Marjory leaves, she knocks on the door.

“Sis, you can come out,” she yells through the wood.

Without a reply, she disappears back into her bedroom.

ROSIE:

I’m not answering, as a row will ensue with old accusations resurfacing. 

‘You’re spoiling things, yada yada ya.’ 

Whatever! Past caring now. Try living in a house with a woman who hates you. Remove the blinkers and inspect my life, then maybe throw some sympathy in my direction.

Every time I mention mum is picking on me, she says I’m being paranoid, but I’m not. Take this bedroom, for instance. The smallest room is allocated to the youngest child, but it became mine, the eldest. Away at university, she’s classed me as ‘moved out’ and if I don’t like it, then I can live with dad and his girlfriend. Great! At almost twenty, I sleep in a space big enough to house only a single bed. Even prisoners have desks and wardrobes.

One day, I will really vent my true feelings towards my mother and that won’t be pleasant.

It isn’t Daisy’s fault that she has gained that perspective. I see that now. With mum’s opinion drilled into her, the attitude shown is understandable, but I wish she would open her eyes and consider my point of view, just once in a while….

DAISY:

This summer will be endless with her presence. Mum’s demeanour has already changed. Why they have never got along, Daisy has failed to figure out. Her mum is amazing. There to offer advice and discuss anything. Yet Rosie holds such contempt. 

She tries to remember when it started, but nothing specific springs to mind. Her sister has continuously acted that way. It must be exhausting to maintain that attitude. Has Rosie thought about staying at Dad’s?

ROSIE:

One advantage to this room is the view. The rolling hills, lush green fields and the sheep offer solace. How amazing to be a sheep? There’d be no hassle, as you just lollop outside all day. Anything beats living in this house.

Everything I do is inconsequential. I studied hard to earn a place at university and make mum proud. What a waste of time. Pleasure at my success only manifested when she realised I would leave home. 

Apparently, I was a handful as a baby and mum had depression after my birth, so they prescribed pills. When pregnant again, she panicked. But Daisy was perfect, and that was my downfall. I was in the way, probably still am. 

It isn’t Daisy’s fault that she has gained that perspective. I see that now. With mum’s opinion drilled into her, the attitude shown is understandable, but I wish she would open her eyes and consider my point of view, just once in a while….

DAISY:

Daisy picks up the photograph from the shelf. Bridlington 2013. The one where their heads poke through the photo board. Mum is a donkey, and she is a girl wearing old-fashioned swimwear. She was 10 and Rosie had turned 13 and the four of them stayed in a 2 bedroomed caravan for 7 days. Their final holiday as a family was memorable.

She loved sharing a room with her sister and whilst there she taught her how to apply make-up and curl her hair. They went roller-skating and rode bikes and had fun. Until Rosie spoiled it by almost killing herself because of a lack of attention, mum said. 

Their relationship changed after that. She had unnecessarily upset everyone, and we had to cut the holiday short. She was out of order and we still haven’t forgiven.

ROSIE:

Daisy and I were close, once. A proper big sister who taught her how to braid hair and use mascara until our return from Bridlington, when our relationship changed. I mean, almost dying wasn’t my fault.

How was I to know that the ice cream would cause an allergic reaction? 

Mum placed the blame on me, of course, because I chose it. Did she not think to check the contents before purchase? Dad said these things happen, but she’d fixed it in her brain and her mind wouldn’t change. Then she convinced Daisy to side with her. We weren’t the same afterwards. 

Mum didn’t hug me, not even on my release from hospital. Instead, I was informed that we were returning home as the holiday was ruined. Of course, she refrained from saying anything nasty in front of dad. Heaven forbid.

I mentioned her behaviour to him once. Apparently, I was being silly, and she treated me differently because as the oldest there was less to worry about. And that was that.

I hope he lives happily ever after with the new girlfriend, but I won’t visit him, with a baby due there will be no room. 

It isn’t Daisy’s fault that she has gained that perspective. I see that now. With mum’s opinion drilled into her, the attitude shown is understandable, but I wish she would open her eyes and consider my point of view, just once in a while….

Only 30 more days to go...