The Girl in the City

Part One: Elizabeth or Lizzie, not sure

One:

'Listen babe you need to understand your 24 years old, we are going to be 25 years old in three months. All our friends are either married or in serious relationships and you are just there ...blah blah blah'

I just left my phone on my desk and let her talk; it was the same conversation every single day. Why couldn't we have normal sisterly conversations? No my sister and I had to have these awful ridiculous tiresome discussions, in which she would remind me that I should open my eyes and look for someone to marry. But not just anyone, mind you. He should be a 'sort after man' that was 'going places', her words not mine. I should find someone like her husband. Mr Kwame Mensah aka the first black British finances director at the Royal Bank of London, aka my boss. They met when I first started working there. As soon as she saw him, she knew exactly who he was, because she researched all Black British high flies. And from that day she made it her mission to become the first lady of the Royal Bank of London. A task that was not difficult for the spoilt Jolie Francis. Almost 4 years later she was now, the Jolie Francis-Mensah, head of PR and communications for the right wing Establishmentarian party. Essentially she was paid to make the Prime Minster look good. I must admit she was good at her job she could make a summer in rainy England sound like a 5* holiday in Jamaican. My sister was near perfection only one thing was destroying this, her identical twin sister, aka Elizabeth Francis, aka me.

'are you listening to me, hello', she screamed down the line

'yes hello, I am listening, I am just taking in what you're saying' I lied as I stared out at London from my window.

'Well I need go and I have a meeting with a MP, he cheated on his wife with a prostitute, and press have got hold of it'

'ohh wow' I replied in the most fake excited voice I could master

'Elizabeth at least sound interested in my job, anyway I'll see you Sunday evening at Grandmothers' house. And I say these things about you finding someone, not to hurt you or remind you that your single however to help you. Talk to you later'

'Yeah... love you'

'Love you more Elizabeth'

And with that she finally got off my phone. My sister and I looked exactly the same, obviously being identical twins. We were both ebony in complexion, very tall and slim, because of our height we dominated every room we entered. I must admit we were both pretty, looking exactly like our mother. Jolie took advantage of this, whereas I didn't really care. From a young age we were always compared which was so annoying. Which is why i chopped my hair off at sixteen and I have had it short ever since. Jolie hated it, as she wanted her and me to be rocking the latest in Peruvian and Brazilian weave whereas I opted for a pixie cut. The only similarity we had was our looks. My older sister always had one up on me and I guess this is way she peruses she has a say in the way I run my life. She beat me in absolutely everything. I came out with good A levels: two As and a B. She got two A* and A. We both got into magic triangle universities, but with her going to the prestigious Royal University of Leadford, my university although still a stop university sounded pretty crap. She graduated with a first class and a graduate scheme. I graduated with a low 2:1 and the Job centre plus number. She has more friends and our family love her more. I am basically the crap version of Jolie Fancis-Mensah.

With that being said, i am happy with where I am in life although single. I am an investment banker at the Royal Bank of London and I actually love my job and the pay also helps. And no I am not jealous of my sister, I just wish she wasn't a controlling psycho bitch.

'Lizzie you need to stop staring out side that widow, we are going to be late gone the meeting with the traders' a work colleague told me

I nod and followed suit.