Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

washbag with the lemons on it. If I confronted her over any of it, she would just
shrug and say, ‘Well, you never use it,’ as if that were entirely the point.
That was Treena all over. She felt entitled. Even though Thomas had come
along, she had never quite lost that sense of being the baby of the family – the
deep-rooted feeling that the whole world actually did revolve around her. When
we had been little and she had thrown a huge strop because she wanted
something of mine, Mum would plead with me to ‘just let her have it’, if only for
some peace in the house. Nearly twenty years on, nothing had really changed.
We had to babysit Thomas so that Treena could still go out, feed him so that
Treena didn’t have to worry, buy her extra-nice presents at birthdays and
Christmas ‘because Thomas means she often goes without’. Well, she could go
without my bloody lemons washbag. I stuck a note on my door which read: ‘My
stuff is MINE. GO AWAY.’ Treena ripped it off and told Mum I was the biggest
child she had ever met and that Thomas had more maturity in his little finger
than I did.
But it got me thinking. One evening, after Treena had gone out to her night
class, I sat in the kitchen while Mum sorted Dad’s shirts ready for ironing.
‘Mum … ’
‘Yes, love.’
‘Do you think I could move into Treena’s room once she’s gone?’
Mum paused, a half-folded shirt pressed to her chest. ‘I don’t know. I hadn’t
really thought about it.’
‘I mean, if she and Thomas are not going to be here, it’s only fair that I should
be allowed a proper-sized bedroom. It seems silly, it sitting empty, if they’re
going off to college.’
Mum nodded, and placed the shirt carefully in the laundry basket. ‘I suppose
you’re right.’
‘And by rights, that room should have been mine, what with me being the
elder and all. It’s only because she had Thomas that she got it at all.’
She could see the sense in it. ‘That’s true. I’ll talk to Treena about it,’ she said.
I suppose with hindsight it would have been a good idea to mention it to my
sister first.
Three hours later she came bursting into the living room with a face like
thunder.