The Sister(93)

She thought about asking her, but then realised she’d only freak out. She played out part of the scenario in her head. Terri would be saying. ‘Hang on – If I didn’t do it and you didn’t do it, who did?’ She took a deep breath and fought to control the rising panic she felt. By the third deep inhalation, she’d finally managed to put it to the back of her mind.





The following day, when Terri let herself in, Theresa was just finishing a telephone call. The two of them signalled each other with a series of shrugs, hand gestures and facial expressions as she passed on her way upstairs. Once out of sight, she called down, ‘I’m just having a quick bath, Mum.’

Theresa replaced the receiver on the wall-mounted phone.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall next to it and teased her hair, flicking her fingers through it. She leaned in on tiptoes to examine her teeth. The ornate mirror was another hand-me-down from her mum, the bronze coloured latticework that surrounded it always had notes weaved into it. While pulling the old ones out, she noticed Terri had a doctor’s appointment the coming Monday.

‘Okay, I’m coming up to see you. How was it last night?’

‘Oh, Mum, you wouldn’t believe.’

Theresa was three steps up the stairs when the phone rang; she was of two minds whether to answer it. It had already rung five times that morning and every time she answered; silence greeted her. It had to be a wrong number, or one of those auto-dial services.

She turned and went back to the phone, a sense of foreboding unsettled her as she picked it up. Something bad was about to happen.

As she lifted the receiver to her ear, she remembered a trick one of her friends had taught her. Always let the caller speak first. That way if it’s someone you don’t want to talk to, you can just say ‘wrong number’ and bang it back down.

‘Trie? Is that you?’ the caller said.

The way he said her name caught her off guard. No one had called her that since her husband died. Trie, as in Tree, he was so drunk the first time they met; he couldn’t say her full name. She found herself thinking about him; an affectionate smile graced her lips. She couldn’t remember him calling her anything other than that.

It had to be someone who knew her. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but no one she knew would do that to her. Something was wrong; she sensed it; she couldn’t explain. Her chest began to tighten, her mouth suddenly dry.

‘I don’t know who you are, but please stop calling me Trie.’ Her tongue ran over her lips, nervously moistening them. She looked upstairs, half expecting her daughter to come out on the landing, to find out where she was, why she was speaking so quietly. The moment seemed to linger, hanging on what would happen next.

‘Oh, I think you should know who I am, Trie. I’m the person who paid you a little visit yesterday. Did you not notice I'd been? I left you a clue, Trie; I thought it was only fair.’ He puffed theatrically on his cigarette, three little sucking sounds. ‘What an interesting lady you are, Trie, and oh, what a lovely daughter you have.’ The soft tone of his voice was completely at odds with the menace he generated.

Her mind was racing. It was him! He had turned the tin!

‘How did you get my number, it’s ex-directory?’ she whispered, watching the stairs.

‘Oh, Trie,’ he sounded disappointed. ‘I got it from the front of your telephone.’

Okay, but how did you know my pet name? She kept the thought to herself. What happened next put her in a daze.

Terri called down from upstairs, ‘Mum, where the hell have you put all my underwear?’

Her blood ran cold.

She wanted to put the phone down immediately and call the police, but something inside stopped her.

‘I’m on the phone, Terri!’ She surprised herself at how well she suppressed the anger and anxiety in her voice; she stared hard at Terri, willing her to go away.

‘Okay, Mum, calm it!’ she said and, rolling her eyes, turned away sharply and sloped off.

Theresa regained her composure. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘Trie, I want you to listen very carefully, your daughter’s welfare depends on it.’ He veiled his threat behind a softly spoken voice. She suddenly realised how he knew her pet name. He’d read the letters from her late husband.

She listened.

‘Three things, Trie, just three small things, that’s all I want from you,’ his voice was soft and persuasive. ‘Now I know you are probably considering calling the police, or thinking you could tell your boss about this conversation, but that wouldn’t be wise, Trie, not at all. You know; they’ve been looking for me since before I cannot tell you...a very long time. They won’t be able to find me, let alone stop me and you telling them about our little situation. Well, it’ll only spark a series of problems for you and I know with Terri’s condition, you won’t want that and believe me, you don’t want me coming after you.’ He reeled it off like friendly advice; she felt an involuntary shiver of revulsion run through her.

‘Just get on and tell me what it is you’re after,’ she said. ‘I’m listening.’





When he’d finished telling her, she weighed the options. What he was asking her to do seemed so innocuous. She felt guilty, but when push came to shove, Terri came first. To agree was the easiest thing to do and while she knew it wasn’t right, something she’d once heard popped into her head. It was about doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. It puzzled her when she first heard it, but this must be exactly the type of situation they meant when they spoke about it.