Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)(30)

‘Hey, those are great, aren’t they?’ Bree said. She knew that kind of drink and she knew that kind of girl, with their glossy hair and smooth skin and desirable figures and amused looks. She was that kind of girl at school. Still was.

Margot had said nothing for a moment, then pointed her straw at the drycleaning bag Bree was clutching.

‘Is that my dress?’

‘Oh. Yes. Here. I’m Bree, by the way.’

‘I know. Thanks.’ A rustle of plastic and the door was shut. Bree stood alone on the step, staring at the glossy paint.

‘Who was that chick?’ a faint voice floated through an open window.

‘One of my mum’s minions.’

‘She’s a bit needy.’

‘That’s what my mum says.’

Bree had stepped back. Now, she looked at Alice. Thirty years older than her daughter but with the same expression in her eyes.

Bree made herself smile. ‘Don’t worry. We won’t be late back.’

‘Good.’

Bree stood and, under the guise of doing a few stretches, wandered along the path to a tree stump. She could see her sister in the distance, still smoking, and staring out into the bush. Bree propped a leg up on the stump and bent over, feeling her hamstrings pull and her head spin. Her stomach heaved and she swallowed the hot surge in her gullet.

She unfolded the map and lay it out so she could look at it as she stretched. The paths swirled a little on the page.

‘Are you feeling okay?’

Bree looked up. Her sister was standing over her, holding out a water bottle.

‘I’m fine.’ She didn’t take the drink.

‘Do you know where we’re going?’

‘Yes. Christ, why does everyone keep asking me that?’

‘Maybe because it seems like you don’t.’

‘Just shut up, Beth.’

Her twin shrugged and sat on the log. It creaked under her bulk. Bree wondered how much she weighed now. They’d been able to swap clothes all through their teens. Not anymore, that was for certain.

When Beth had called six months ago, Bree had let it go through to voicemail, as always. When the message asked if she could name Bree as a referee on a job application, Bree had done precisely nothing. A week later, a second message shared the news that Beth had secured an entry-level data-processing position at BaileyTennants. Bree had assumed it was a joke. It had to be. She had been through too much to get her role and she didn’t just mean her degree in commerce and two unpaid internships. And now she had to work in the same place as her sister, with her cheap haircut and size Large clothes and her mistake that had to be legally declared on job applications?

Their mother had confirmed it was indeed the case.

‘She’s inspired by you. I’ve told you.’

Bree thought her sister was more likely inspired by fear of her benefits being cut off. She had made a subtle inquiry to human resources. Apparently Jill Bailey herself had approved the unusual appointment. Unofficially, Bree was told, it seemed her own stellar service to the company had tipped the balance in her sister’s favour. Bree had locked herself in a bathroom stall for ten minutes and blinked back tears of rage as she processed that information.

At that point, she had only seen her sister once in the past eighteen months. It had been coming up to Christmas when their mother had called, asking Bree, begging her, to forgive. Bree had listened stony-faced to her mum crying down the phone for fifty minutes before she caved. It was Christmas, after all. So she had returned to her childhood home, armed with presents for every family member except one.

Beth, unemployed and broke, of course, was looking surprisingly clear-eyed after her stint away. She’d given Bree a photo of the two of them as children, printed out and placed in a cheap frame that would look terrible in Bree’s flat. The accompanying Christmas card simply read, I’m sorry. Because their mother was watching, Bree had not pulled away when her twin moved to hug her.

Back at her own home, the festivities over, Bree had removed the photo and dropped the frame off at a charity shop. An hour later, she’d returned and bought it back. Photo reinstated, the gift was last seen shoved in the back of a high cupboard behind the Christmas decorations.

On Beth’s first day at BaileyTennants, their mum had called Bree and asked her to do everything she possibly could to help her sister keep this job. Now, looking at her sister smoking and sitting on a log, Bree wished she hadn’t promised.

‘Are you girls ready over there?’

A voice came up the path and Bree turned. Jill, Alice and Lauren were already on their feet, eyeing their backpacks with reluctance.

‘Yes. Coming.’ Bree grabbed the map and jogged back. Too fast. She felt a bit dizzy.

‘Is it left or right from here?’ Jill hauled her pack onto her shoulders. Where the trail split, both routes were narrow with overgrown shrubbery crawling out on to the path. The earth on the left-hand trail looked more compressed, but Bree knew that at every fork for the first part of the day they had to go right. She checked again, feeling four pairs of eyes resting on her. They were impatient to get going now they had the weight on their backs again. She ran a finger over the route, her hand shaking a little and her empty stomach swirling. Yes, they had turned twice today, this was the third time.

‘If you need help, Bree . . .’ Alice shifted her feet.