Blood Sisters(75)

He gives a short laugh. ‘Women going through a divorce are vulnerable. It’s easy for them to imagine there is something between them and their solicitor. One of the first things we were told at law school.’ His eyes face mine. Fairly and squarely. ‘I imagine it can be like that between prison staff and offenders.’

I leave his office, feeling thoroughly confused by the different emotions flying round my own head.

Yet this is nothing compared with the latest news about Kitty. Arrangements are being made to send her back to the home. Johnny’s parents can’t cope with her any more after she pushed Johnny out of bed and broke his arm.

‘It was an accident,’ Mum keeps saying. ‘My Kitty isn’t like that.’

When I first heard, I have to confess that I felt a flash of pleasure. So Johnny’s family had discovered something that I had had to live with for years! My sister is not easy. She has a mind of her own.

To clear my head after the meeting with Robin, I take a jog along the Thames. A tourist steamer goes past. A child is waving at me. I wonder what it would be like to get on to the next one and never come back. Don’t try to hide, I tell myself. It’s time to go back to the flat, shower and drive down to Mum’s. After all, I’d promised.

She’d been really excited when – after that conversation about Kitty – I’d asked if I could come down for a few days. ‘Don’t you have to work?’

I haven’t told her yet about being suspended from the prison. ‘My local authority classes are over for the summer,’ I had explained truthfully without referring to HMP Archville. She doesn’t mention it either. Mum’s good at that. Ignoring what she doesn’t like. Perhaps it’s hereditary.

‘I can’t wait to see you, darling,’ she’d added.

‘Me too.’

But she might change her mind when I get there. Because now is the time for my mother to come clean.





57


July 2017


Kitty


‘So you’re … back,’ sniffed Margaret. ‘They say a … bad … penny always … turns up.’

‘Don’t take any notice of her,’ said Tea Trolley Lady. ‘She’s missed you. We all have, dear. Welcome home.’

Home? Home was a little house on her picture board with a path leading up to it and flowers at the side. Kitty had never really thought of this place as ‘home’ before. Instead it had been a vague idea of a house with Friday Mum and … someone else. Had it been the tall blonde, Half a Sister? Or was it Flabby Face, the man they called her father but who angered her?

It made her head spin.

When Call Me Jeannie had taken her in, she’d told Kitty to treat their house as her home. But it wasn’t. Every time she had done something, it was wrong. It wasn’t her fault that the wheelchair scuffed the paint on the door frame. Or that she dribbled. As for pushing Johnny out of bed and breaking his bones, that really had been an accident.

Mind you, she probably shouldn’t have smeared poo on the walls when she got cross. Call Me Jeannie had got really upset about that one.

So when Friday Mum said that Johnny’s family didn’t think they could have her any more and how did she feel about going back to the home, Kitty had felt an unexpected flash of relief. Of course, Friday Mum had asked the question in a way that suggested she didn’t expect a reply. If only they realized that she understood so much, they might be more careful about what they said. Half a Sister Ali, she said, might go to prison. Why?

Meanwhile, here she was back in her old room with Margaret as though nothing had happened. Only the rings on her left hand showed she had got married. The rest seemed like a dream.

‘Getting … bigger … aren’t you?’ wheezed Margaret. ‘Not long … now … they say.’

Not long until what? The Monster gave a big kick, as if it knew something.

‘Don’t … worry,’ said Margaret in a softer tone. ‘Remember I … told you about the … boyfriend who loved … me once but then … dropped me? I know … you thought Johnny was … different but … they’re all … the same. Who needs … men?’

Maybe she had a point. Funny, really, thought Kitty. She’d truly loved Johnny at first. But that girl in Day Centre had been the final straw. It had brought back all those memories which she couldn’t pin down properly but which had made her so, so furious.

As if in agreement, Kitty’s stomach rumbled.

‘Hungry, are you?’ asked Margaret. ‘Me too. Nearly … dinner now. Tell you … what, you can … have my seconds as a … welcome back treat.’

Kitty thumped her knees with excitement.

‘But after that,’ added Margaret with a glint in her eye, ‘no … more special … favours. Got it?’

Kitty had been back for six meals – that meant two days – when she heard the rumours. ‘Heard your sister’s in trouble,’ grinned Duncan. ‘Surprised you still see her after what she did to you.’

Did to her? What were they talking about?

‘Heard your mother talking to the supervisor, I did.’

‘Me too,’ added Margaret. ‘And what’s this … machine that might … be able to help you … talk? They … were going on about … that too.’