Blood Sisters(55)

‘What caused it?’

Mum blew her nose. ‘They don’t know. When I had a miscarriage, they said it was nature’s way, but that doesn’t really –’

‘What?’ I put a hand on her arm to stop her there. ‘When did you have a miscarriage?’

She shakes her head. ‘I didn’t mean to let that slip out.’ Then she puts her arms around me. ‘Just before I had you, I lost another. A little girl.’ She smiles through her tears. ‘That’s why you’ve always been so precious. And it’s why I was so happy when I had Kitty because I was finally able to give you the sister you deserved.’

She hugs me close. ‘And now Kitty’s having a little girl too. Isn’t that lovely?’

A girl. How I too would love a daughter one day. A little girl to play with. To make up for the sister who had pushed me away. A daughter and a proper father as well.

The question is on my lips. About to come out. Is my father … But a nurse is opening the door. ‘Would you like to see Kitty now?’

Mum bustles along in front of me. I have to rush to keep up.

‘Why aren’t Johnny and his mother here?’ I ask her as we walk down the corridor.

‘It’s not been very easy, apparently. Seems like your sister is playing up a bit.’ Mum sighs. ‘Throwing food around. Shouting at Johnny. That sort of thing. And although they’ve got some carers in, they’re finding it quite tough. Johnny’s mother will come in later but she’s having a rest at the moment.’

Kitty is sitting up in bed. Her face is pale. But it jerks up at me as I come in. There’s definitely a flash of recognition. A string of babble comes out, aimed directly at me.

‘The nurse says that she seems to be trying to say something,’ says Mum. ‘I know the consultant said that most improvements take place in the first year. But miracles happen, don’t they?’

I take my sister’s hand. It’s plump, sweaty. ‘Do you understand, Kitty?’ I ask.

For a moment she really looks like she’s about to say something. Then she laughs. Dribble comes out of her mouth. I get up. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ I say. ‘I can’t deal with this.’

Then I leave. Conscious that I’m not just a lousy daughter. I’m a bad sister too.





41


July 2001


Ali


The roaring in my ears was a car.

Crispin’s Mum’s car with an L plate on the front.

Coming straight towards us.

‘Get off me.’

The summer house. The tapping trees.

I can’t let Kitty tell Mum.

CRASH.

A blue uniform in the air. So graceful. Like a swan in flight. A perfect arc.

I watched, mesmerized, from the ground where I’d been thrown. Frozen.

The thud was heavy. Leaden. Final.





42


May 2017


Alison


If anyone had told me that I’d be in Lead Man’s apartment this evening, I wouldn’t have believed them.

We’re sitting on a smart brown leather sofa – close but not quite touching. He’d called after the hospital visit and in a weak moment I’d said yes.

I’d begun to think that Lead Man didn’t want me to see his place. Was it possible he had a wife hidden away? This is a world where anything can happen. Like a prisoner claiming to be my father. Who knew my mother smelt of lavender. If I’d been wearing it myself – as I usually do – I could have just put that down to a lucky guess. Then again, maybe Stefan had smelt it on me during previous classes.

‘Tell me about your sister, then,’ he says, picking a tiny fragment of glass out of my hair.

‘Our relationship wasn’t easy before the accident,’ I say carefully, leaning back against a turquoise cushion with red and gold embroidery. There’s a distinct oriental air about Lead Man’s place. Maybe it’s the silver and purple jars on the contemporary side table or the faint whiff of joss sticks. That pink paper lantern light. And the soft velvet cushions, ornately brocaded with silver buttons. Intriguingly, there aren’t any photographs. I’d like to know more about his family – whether he has a brother or sister – but something tells me not to pry too soon.

‘In what way wasn’t it easy?’ asks Lead Man. His arm is draping itself round my shoulders now. It’s sending shivers down me. Nice shivers.

‘She was always arguing with me. Prickly. Hostile when there was no need.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Frankly, I’m not surprised that she and Johnny aren’t working out.’

I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t mean it. At least, I don’t think I did.

‘It sounds as though he’s more able-bodied than she is. It can’t be easy for them. Especially with a baby on the way.’

‘I don’t know how we’re going to manage. Sometimes … sometimes I feel guilty about the accident.’

‘Why?’

Stop right there, I tell myself.

‘I … you know … keep wondering if I … well, if I could have done anything that would have saved her.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know.’