'My billionaire Topshop boss brother Philip Green cut me out of his life'

I was only four years old when my world changed forever. I’d been my mother’s little princess, until my baby brother arrived home from hospital on 15 March 1952. It was clear my reign was over. Philip, my mother’s prince, had been born. Finally, she had something to feel happy about. And I didn’t get a look-in.

To this day, I’ve never seen eye-to-eye with my brother, Philip Green, the billionaire king of the high street. I speak to his wife Tina more than I speak to him. But that’s OK, because I can always read about what he gets up to in the newspapers or on Google.

I’ve kept quiet about our turbulent relationship for decades, but now I want to talk about it. I want to tell the story of my life.

Our parents are no longer with us – my dad Simon died of a heart attack suddenly one night when I was 15, and my mum Alma passed away more recently in 2015, aged 96, after suffering from dementia.

I’ve spent thousands of pounds on therapy over the years to deal with being sidelined by my own family, but it wasn’t much help – I resented wasting hours of my life talking about my mum and Philip. All the money in the world couldn’t have bought me the love and care I so craved.

Can you imagine what it’s like to pick up the paper to find out about the lavish life your brother is leading? One minute with Beyoncé, then the next with the Prime Minister.

I wasn’t usually invited to the showbiz parties. The one time I asked for an invite was when the Kardashians were in town in 2012, because they fascinated me, but I wasn’t included in any of it. It was galling.

I was different to Philip. I wanted to study and go to university – something my mother never understood. She was a grafter, a businesswoman and Philip had her genes. Although he went to a Jewish boarding school, Carmel College, he didn’t do well, leaving with no O-levels.

My mum owned a launderette and a petrol station, where Philip started working when he was 14. She thought he was fantastic.

Instead, I trained to be a teacher and worked at a boys’ comprehensive in Neasden in my 20s. But it wasn’t for me. A friend suggested I went to India to join the spiritual leader Rajneesh. So at 29, I packed a bag and jumped on a plane.

But things happened. I unexpectedly fell pregnant – and returned home to have a termination. My mother was not impressed. She brushed it off and kept it hush-hush.

The more successful Philip became, the less I featured in his life. When he married Tina in 1990, he threw a party. I went – but his friends of 25 years didn’t know who I was. In a way, it was lucky I didn’t get an invite to the renewing of his vows 20 years later, so I didn’t have to go through that embarrassment again.

I think I’m a nuisance in his eyes. He used to say to me, ‘When are you going to behave yourself?’ He cut me out from a lot of his life. For instance, in the mid-90s, one Friday nightI went to make my weekly phone call to my mum and it went to answerphone.

The same happened the following day. I finally got hold of her on Sunday to find out she’d been in Manchester for a party on the rooftop of department store Lewis’s, which Philip owned. Pavarotti had performed a private show in the ballroom. I had no idea. I felt completely left out.

Then there was the time when I was in a yoga class in London’s fancy Primrose Hill, and Hollywood actress Kate Hudson was there. Unlike me, she’d partied with a host of celebs at Philip’s four-day 60th birthday bash at a private resort in Mexico in 2012.

I went up to her to say hello and gave her my best line, “I’m Philip Green’s sister…” She gushed about the “amazing party” where Ronnie Wood got on stage to jam with Carlos Santana. Hearing stories like that was painful.

Having a brother who’s worth a reported £4.9billion (at the peak of his career in 2007) is a bit of a drawback too. My friends would constantly ask me for favours. I would ask him, and most of the time he’d come up with Topshop vouchers or shopping trips as prizes for charity.

Of course I’ve read stories in the press about Philip, but all I know is some people who’ve worked with him for a long time have been very happy.

I have to admit he’s helped me out financially when I’ve had my troubles. And he did invite me and my then-husband to his luxury 50th birthday party in Cyprus.

Two of my kids Georgia and Jacob (I also have Simon), who are now all in their 30s, even got to holiday with his daughter Chloe Green and son Brandon on their yacht and had a fantastic time. But not me.

I haven’t really lived a flashy lifestyle. But I have the odd designer dress and some old jewellery of my mother’s. But my wardrobe has always been mainly discounted clothes from Topshop.

Back in the day, my mum would hold court in the coffee shop at BHS. The staff used to call her Granny Green. She’d be there with her long nails and rings on every finger. It was hysterical.

But none of it was doing me any good. I needed to be my own person and the only way I could do that was to leave England. My life hadn’t gone the way I wanted it to – I divorced my husband after 23 years in 2007.

We just grew apart. I needed to fix myself, so I decided to move to New York in 2009. I got a flat on the Upper West Side and bought a business – a burger restaurant in the West Village.

I don’t tell too many people I’m Philip Green’s sister any more. I’m 72 and run Planted, a restaurant serving plant-based food with live music. I go on dates with guys I meet online. Most of my friends are younger than me and I love that.

I was never the same as Philip. I finally realised I had to embrace who I was – it just took a long time. I’m the best version of myself now in New York. Of course, Philip has never visited me. He’s too busy on his 63-metre superyacht in Monaco plotting his next move.

The irony is, of course, I wouldn’t have found my happy place and arrived at where I am today if it wasn’t for my brother. So no, I wouldn’t change the past. I’ve made the best of what I’ve been given, and I’m proud of that.’

To find out more about Elizabeth’s relationship with Philip, read her book Not In The Script (£10.50), out tomorrow in bookshops