Forget Her Name(8)

Louise unwraps her sandwich. ‘Go on.’

I look about the half-empty café. Lunch is almost over now. I guess most staff have eaten and gone, because it’s mainly visitors and the occasional dressing-gowned patient at the tables around us.

‘The thing is,’ I say quietly, ‘someone sent me something odd in the post, and I’d like your opinion on it.’

‘Sent you something? What, like a wedding gift?’

‘No.’ I pause, frowning. ‘Actually, I don’t know. Maybe it was meant as a wedding gift. I hadn’t thought of it like that. Pretty sick gift though.’

‘Sick?’ Now she’s looking bemused.

‘I’m going to have to give you some background first,’ I tell her. ‘Otherwise it won’t make any sense.’

‘Shoot.’

‘First, you need to promise you won’t repeat any of this to Dominic.’

Louise, about to take a bite of her prawn mayonnaise sandwich, puts it down again. Her finely etched brows rise steeply. ‘Seriously?’

‘I’m sorry, I know that probably sounds ridiculous. But I don’t want Dom to know.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s personal.’

‘No way.’ Louise shakes her head. ‘I can’t agree to lie to Dominic. I mean, he’s my friend. I don’t want to pull rank, but I’ve known him longer than you. Not much longer, agreed. But it counts.’

‘Please, this is important.’

Louise looks at me closely. ‘Jesus. Whatever this is about, it’s really upset you, hasn’t it?’

I nod, not trusting myself to reply.

‘Okay.’ Louise takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. ‘I promise not to tell Dom. But only if I think, after hearing what you have to say, that he doesn’t need to know.’

‘That doesn’t sound like much of a promise.’

‘Take it or leave it.’

I consider for a moment, then nod. Though only because it’s either confide in Louise or nobody. And right now I desperately need a second opinion. Otherwise I’m going to crack.

‘I’ll take it,’ I say drily. ‘You drive a hard bargain.’

Smiling, Louise raises her coffee in a mock toast. ‘Never play me at cards. So, what is it I mustn’t tell your husband-to-be?’

I reach into my coat pocket. The cold plastic of the bag in which I placed the eyeball rubs against my fingers. No backing out now; I have to tell someone.

‘I had a sister,’ I begin haltingly, and my chest tightens with just those words. ‘Her name was Rachel.’





Chapter Five ‘Had a sister?’

I nod and look away. Much to my embarrassment, my eyes fill with tears.

‘Oh God,’ Louise says at once, and puts her hand out across the table, brushing my arm. ‘You poor thing, you’re in pieces.’

‘No, it’s . . . it’s okay.’

I breathe in deeply through my nose, then out again. Count to five in my head. The wave of panic begins to recede. But slowly, very slowly.

‘I had a sister called Rachel,’ I repeat. ‘She died years ago, when we were kids. On a family holiday in the Swiss Alps.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Dominic knows that much. But there’s more.’ It’s hard, but I force myself to go on. ‘Far more.’

‘Go on.’

I take a tentative sip of coffee, my gaze on the blank, cream-coloured wall opposite. The coffee is still hot but no longer scalding. ‘I wasn’t with her that day, so I don’t know exactly how she . . . Anyway, Rachel died on that holiday and life was never the same again.’

‘I’m not surprised. It must have been traumatic.’

Blinking back tears, I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say with some difficulty. ‘You still don’t understand.’

Louise looks at me, frowning.

How on earth could she understand? Louise did not know Rachel, and has no idea what life has been like for our family; of the way that holiday in Switzerland split everything into ‘before’ and ‘after’ her death.

‘Rachel had a snow globe,’ I start again, not looking at her. ‘There was this pretty Swiss village inside, a goat, you know the sort of thing. All that twee tourist stuff. My dad bought it for her on a diplomatic trip to Switzerland a few years before she died. She loved that snow globe. She used to shake it really hard, and then watch the snow slowly settle.’ I swallow. My voice is hoarse and uneven, but I need to get this out. ‘After Rachel died, I never saw the snow globe again. I thought Dad must have thrown it away. Because he couldn’t bear to see it and remember, you know?’

Louise watches me with concern in her eyes. ‘You okay, Cat?’

‘Yeah, just about.’ I nod, then take another sip before pushing away my coffee cup. It tastes bitter. ‘Anyway, a few days ago, this parcel arrived for me at the food bank. Addressed to me by name. I thought it was just another donation. But when I opened the parcel, the snow globe was inside.’ I pause. ‘Rachel’s snow globe.’

‘Oh my God.’ Louise looks shocked. ‘You’re sure it was hers?’

‘Positive.’