Blood Sisters(40)

‘Johnny’s mother wanted them to live with her,’ continues Mum, ‘but they don’t have the facilities. Besides, I gather, reading between the lines, that her husband isn’t so keen. Personally I thought they should stay where they are and so does David.’

My stepfather’s name, jumping suddenly into the conversation like this, makes me shudder. Come out in goosebumps.

‘What do you think?’ persists Mum.

Me? I just want the whole thing to be over and done with.

‘I’m not sure,’ I murmur.

She squeezes my hand. ‘I know. It’s not easy for any of us. Anyway, I thought you might like to help me find her a wedding dress.’

It’s what a good sister would do, isn’t it?

‘We’ll have to choose one without her,’ continues Mum. ‘It will be easier than getting her round the shops.’ She gives a little sigh. ‘I have to say, it’s not how I imagined it. But then again life has a strange way of turning out. Doesn’t it?’

To my relief, David doesn’t come to the wedding. ‘He doesn’t approve,’ says Mum shortly.

I don’t want to press her further. The least said about him the better, as far as I’m concerned. The ceremony takes place at the local register office. Most of the people around me have tears in their eyes when Kitty is wheeled in, grinning and banging her good arm, which is now out of plaster. Not me. If I did cry, it would be for another reason. One I must keep to myself.

Afterwards there is a small reception in the home’s community lounge. All the other residents have turned up. ‘Not missing out on free cake,’ I hear someone say.

There’s a woman called Margaret who tells me, in between long, drawn-out gaps, that she’s my sister’s best friend but that she’s ‘extremely disappointed’ that Kitty doesn’t have a matron of honour. I get the feeling she’d expected to fill that role.

There’s a man who is grumpy because he wants the television on instead. And there is a woman who leaves puddles of urine on the floor wherever she goes. The smell makes me retch.

Kitty is radiant. It’s amazing what happiness can do to a face. She is actually beaming. Of course, I know why. She is queen for the day. Kitty always loved being the centre of attention.

I stand to one side, observing as Kitty stuffs herself with scones, grinning with her mouth wide open to reveal a congealed mess of crumbs. Johnny has a hand on her shoulder. I wonder what will happen next. There’ll be no honeymoon. That would be too difficult to arrange, apparently, ‘given the circumstances’. Instead, they will spend the evening here with the other residents. Watching TV perhaps. But then what? Like the prison, this is a whole new world. Without the threatening messages.

‘I’m still worried about how this is all going to work,’ Mum says to the supervisor as we stand there, nibbling sandwiches and making small talk while an elderly man and a young girl – both in wheelchairs – squabble loudly over the remains of the cheese straws. I don’t really like this place but it’s close to Mum. Besides, Kitty’s been here for years. She’s used to it.

‘How it’s going to work?’ repeats the supervisor. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We were thinking about the physical side,’ I say, taking a deep breath.

There is a snort. ‘I think those two have already proved that this sort of thing can be achieved.’

‘One of the staff has just said that Kitty is still going to be in her old room with Margaret,’ pitches in Mum.

‘There’s no option at the moment because of the layout of the building and the residents’ individual requirements and financial constraints.’ The supervisor sighs. ‘This is causing us a great deal of bother, I can tell you. If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to look at the alternatives. We also need to take Kitty’s behaviour into account. She has been getting increasingly aggressive over the last few months.’

Sounds like my sister is on a final warning.

‘Of course, it will be a different matter when the baby is born,’ adds the supervisor. ‘We’re simply not equipped to deal with that kind of situation.’

‘So what are we meant to do?’ asks my mother with a hint of alarm in her voice.

‘If I were you, I’d speak to the care providers.’

Suddenly, my sister’s marriage seems much more complicated than we’d realized. I want it to be a success. I really do. It’s about time something good happened. But is marriage really going to work for her?

Meanwhile, it is time for us to go. Kitty waves us off even though it should be the other way round. ‘Throw your bouquet, love,’ urges Mum. ‘Use your good hand.’

My stepsister looks at me. For a second, I swear I see the old Kitty. Smiling sarcastically. Almost hear the unspoken words. ‘If you think I’m going to throw it at you, you’ve got another thought coming.’ Then it passes. In its place is that happy grin again. Everyone claps as she throws the bunch of roses so high that it swoops in the air. A thorny gift. It falls directly at my feet. ‘You next, darling,’ laughs Mum delightedly.

When I get home after the wedding, I place the roses in a pretty jug which I’d painted myself. I feel positive now. Excited, almost. My sister has a new chance to make something of her life. Maybe, with our help, it will all work out.