Blood Sisters(95)

Of course she did. ‘Me! It’s me!’ Kitty began to feel her heart racing as the tinny voice jumped out of her mouth. ‘School.’

‘You’re wearing your uniform, yes. Very good. And who are you with in this picture?’

‘Half a Sister.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘It’s my other daughter,’ butted in Friday Mum. She gave a strange laugh. ‘I didn’t realize Kitty thought of Alison as “half a sister”.’

Kitty looked closer. Something wasn’t right here. That thing round her neck. Her locket. Another flash of memory.

‘Stole it!’ Kitty banged her arm on the chair. ‘My locket. Glass box.’ Half a Sister had been wearing it.

Mum frowned. ‘What glass box, love? It’s true that after your accident they said it wasn’t safe for you to wear things round your neck in case it got caught up. So I gave it to Alison. I thought it would be nice for her to have something of yours.’

Well, now she fucking wanted it back. She banged the side of her chair again. ‘Mine! Mine! Get it!’

‘The prison has got it now, darling.’ Friday Mum sounded as though she was trying to hold back tears. ‘They’ll give it back when she’s … if she’s …’

Then she stopped. Dr White gave a laugh. It sounded slightly nervous. ‘Amazing, isn’t it, to hear what someone is really thinking? Let’s get on, shall we? What about this person in the photograph? Who is she, Kitty?’

A girl with long blonde hair smirked at her. She was wearing a locket round her neck. Just like hers. ‘Vanessa,’ said the voice.

‘Very good. You were best friends, weren’t you?’

‘Yes. No. Sometimes.’

Kitty had a sudden flashback. Someone else coming closer to her. A long time ago. Someone who was angry. Very angry.

Vanessa. On the way to school on the day of the concert.

‘Jealous of Ali. Wanted to be my sister. Made me spill the coffee.’

Friday Mum looked confused.

Dr White glanced at Friday Mum. Kitty could suddenly feel an air of tension. ‘Shall I go on?’

‘I suppose so. Except that she hasn’t seen him for a long time. And when she does, he always seems to upset her.’

Him? Who’s him?

‘I’d like to try, if you don’t mind. There could be a reason for that. It might help unblock the rest of her memories.’

And then a photograph of Flabby Face jumped up in front of a pretty little girl with blonde plaits on the screen. He was holding her hand and smiling. There was an older girl too, standing a little further away. They were both wearing school uniform. Kitty’s arm thumped the side of her chair again. ‘Fuck. No. Fuck off. Take him fuck off.’

‘It’s all right, Kitty,’ said Friday Mum, wrapping her arms around her.

‘Can you say why you don’t like your father?’ said the doctor.

‘His fault.’

‘What was his fault?’

‘Ali’s dad. He told. His fault.’

‘What do you mean, Kitty?’

Don’t say, Kitty told herself fiercely. Don’t let the machine bully you.

‘You know.’ She pushed Friday Mum away with her good hand. ‘You bloody know.’

‘Stop.’ Friday Mum was crying. ‘I don’t want her to do this any more. She’s too upset. Turn it off.’





It was Flabby Face’s picture that did it.

Brought it all back.

Squeaky-clean school shoes.

Shoulder bags bobbing.

Blonde plaits flapping.

Three pairs of feet.

‘Don’t you dare!’

She pushes me.

I push her.

The earth spins.

A scream.

‘Don’t die. Don’t die.’

A silence.

Blood.

My sister Ali. Vanessa. Crispin’s car.

Shit. Now I remember.

Everything.

I just can’t tell.





74


February 2018


Alison


I expect to be moved to Solitary after they find the toothbrush and the marks on my arms. But instead they bring in Sarah Holliday. She’s the new psychologist. We have a couple of sessions together in what’s known as the ‘psycho room’. It’s got a squashy dark-purple sofa and watercolours on the wall. ‘Meant to make you feel safe,’ warns Angela. ‘But remember what I told you. You don’t trust anyone in this place.’

At first, Sarah and I talk about ordinary stuff. What it feels like to be in prison. The food. Whether I am sleeping. And then, one morning, she suddenly takes me by surprise.

‘Why do you feel the need to hurt yourself?’ she asks.

‘Because of me, two people died and I nearly killed my sister.’

She doesn’t flinch. ‘It wasn’t just your fault, you know. I’ve read the notes. The car was going too fast.’

Sarah puts down her pen. ‘Do you hate Kitty?’

‘No! I’d do anything for her. All I want is for her to love me. To be a proper sister.’

The words escape through my mouth before I can take them back.

Sarah looks at me for a very long time. ‘That’s interesting,’ she says. ‘And how would you define a proper sister?’