The Sister-In-Law(20)

Was she really horrified at the thought of offending me or was she making fun of me? I would give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn’t mean to be nasty. ‘I just think sometimes perhaps you say things, and people don’t always get your meaning,’ I said gently. ‘What might seem funny to you doesn’t sound funny to everyone else – it just sounds rude.’

‘To you it does,’ she snapped, without looking at me. Perhaps I’d embarrassed her. I hadn’t meant to. But then she seemed to think better of it, and looking up, gave me a half-smile. ‘Hey, I’m sorry.’ She walked over to me, touching my shoulder.

I still wasn’t sure if she’d been joking, but Dan always said I took things to heart too much. Perhaps he was right. I needed to ‘woman up’.

‘I guess I just don’t have the same sense of humour as you,’ I conceded.

‘Yeah, you’ll need to get used to it, Clare.’ She went back to what she was doing, and standing with her back to me, said, ‘Because that’s who I am.’ Before I could respond, she called, ‘Joking!’

‘Not funny,’ I said, echoing her sing-song tone and returning to my book.

‘Hey Clare,’ she said, after a few minutes. ‘You can join me if you like, as long as you warm up first and don’t talk. I could help you do something about that tummy?’

I knew then Ella wasn’t suffering from a lack of tact, or a strange sense of humour, it was deliberate. ‘Thanks,’ I smiled through gritted teeth, ‘but I’m okay.’

‘Okay, I need quiet now,’ she said, and started making humming noises.

‘I need quiet too,’ I murmured, and went back to my book, but she didn’t respond. She appeared to be totally engrossed as she started waving her arms around, then threw her body into all kinds of positions. By now I was so distracted I abandoned my book and watched her.

‘I haven’t seen yoga like that before,’ I said, unable to resist commenting.

‘I don’t suppose you have, it’s only for the very flexible. I learned it when I lived in LA.’



‘LA. You lived in LA?’ I said, ignoring the implication that I wasn’t flexible. Well, I could hardly argue about that. ‘Gosh, you’ve fitted a lot into your life.’

She didn’t respond.

‘Sorry Ella… I know I keep asking questions.’ I forced a smile. ‘It’s just that… Well, you said your dad is a New Yorker, but I could have sworn you said he was Italian – from Sorrento?’

‘What did you say?’ she asked, staring right at me in what I felt was a threatening way.

‘I’m just saying, how can he be a New Yorker “born and bred”, and an Italian “born and bred” too, all at the same time?’ I stared back at her.

‘Are you saying I’m a liar, Clare?’ She stopped what she was doing, stood up and walked towards me, hands on her hips in a rather confrontational stance.



‘No… I’m not saying that.’ I was slightly shaken by her response; suddenly everything had changed.

‘You need to be very careful, Clare.’ Her tone was suddenly threatening as she came even closer.

She was standing over me now, blocking out the sun. In moments this had changed from verbal sparring to something far darker. I caught my breath. Her beautiful face was close enough for me to see the smooth, botoxed forehead sloping down to perfect brows. But something had turned ugly in her – those sparkly eyes were now cold and dark, the perfect skin now creased as jagged, angry lines escaped across the top of her nose.

Then she leaned down towards me, her nose almost touching mine. She slowly put two fingers to her eyes, and then to mine, like she might gouge them out. ‘I see you,’ she said, and held herself there, in my face for far too long. Eventually she stood up straight again. ‘I bet you can barely sleep at night,’ she spat.

My eyes were now locked with hers. I daren’t move, my heart was beating in my chest. I wanted to push her over, run away, escape from this – but I couldn’t. I was there, in her shadow. Still on my chair. Clutching my book.



‘You don’t think Jamie and I have secrets, do you? No, we tell each other everything.’ She smiled. ‘Including your dirty little secret. So, thinking about it, maybe it’s time to start being nice to me?’





CHAPTER EIGHT





Later Dan took the children to the nearby village for breakfast. There was apparently an amazing café that did pancakes and the children were excited to try it out. Normally I would have gone with them, but I was so distraught I needed time alone to think. I spent the next couple of hours worrying and washing the kids’ clothes in the little kitchen, mindlessly scrubbing, terrified that Ella knew what I’d been hiding all this time. Did she know everything? She was bluffing surely. What on Earth had Jamie said to her? Even if she knew some of it I was in trouble. If I upset her, she’d likely tell everyone – it would ruin my life, and my family. She was mean and I knew I couldn’t trust her, but now had to try and keep the peace, at least until the end of the holiday. Perhaps if I really made the effort to be friends with her, she wouldn’t say anything? But just remembering the hate on her face, the jabbing fingers near my eyes – it felt impossible, because despite barely knowing me, she already hated me.