Shopaholic and Sister

“Thanks.” I nod, not quite sure what else to say. Then I turn and walk out into the night.

Twenty

I FEEL NUMB. I don’t have a sister. After all that.

I’ve been sitting on the bed in my room at the guesthouse for about an hour, just gazing out the window at the distant hills. It’s all over. My stupid dream of having a sisterly soul mate to chat and giggle with and go shopping with and eat peppermint creams with… is over for good. Not that Jess would ever have gone shopping or eaten peppermint creams with me. Or giggled, come to that. But she might have chatted. We might have got to know each other better. We might have told each other secrets and asked each other’s advice. I hug my knees tight to my chest. This never happened in Long-Lost Sisters: The Love They Never Knew They Had.

Actually, it happened once. With these two sisters who were going to have a kidney transplant and then they did the DNA test and realized they weren’t sisters after all. But the point was, they went ahead with the kidney transplant anyway, and afterwards they said they would always be sisters in the heart. The point was, they liked each other.

I feel a single tear roll down my cheek and brush it away crossly. There’s no point getting upset. I’ve been an only child all my life… and now I am again. I only had a sister for a few weeks. It’s not like I got used to it. It’s not like we got attached or anything.

In fact… in fact, I’m glad this has happened. Who would want Jess for a sister? Not me. No way. I mean, she’s right. We have absolutely nothing in common. We don’t understand one thing about each other. We should have realized it was a mistake right from the word go.

Abruptly I get to my feet, open my suitcases, and start throwing in my clothes. I’ll spend the night here, then head back to London first thing in the morning. I can’t waste any more time. I’ve got a life to get back to. I’ve got a husband.

At least… I think I’ve got a husband.

As my mind flashes back to the last time I saw Luke I feel a hollow dread in my stomach. He’s probably still furious with me. He’s probably having a terrible time in Cyprus and cursing me every moment. I hesitate halfway through folding up a jumper. Just the thought of going back and facing him makes me feel a bit sick. But then my chin stiffens and I throw the jumper into the case. So what if things with Luke are shaky? I don’t need some crummy sister to help me save my marriage. I’ll sort it out myself. Maybe I’ll buy a book. There must be one called How to Save Your Year-Old Marriage.

I cram in all the souvenirs I bought at Jim’s shop, sit on the lid of my lime green case, and snap it shut. That’s it. The end.

Just then there’s a knock. “Hello?”

Edie puts her head round the door. “You’ve got a visitor,” she says. “Downstairs.”

I feel an immediate flicker of hope.

“Really?” I scramble to my feet. “I’m just coming!”

“I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you of the rules.” Edie’s booming voice follows me as I run down the stairs. “No visitors after eleven o’clock. If there’s any carousing I’ll have to call the authorities.”

I jump down the last few steps and hurry into the little sitting room. “Hi!”

I stop dead in my tracks. It’s not Jess. It’s Robin. And Jim. And a couple of other people from the meeting. I can see a few glances flying about.

“Hi, Becky,” says Robin, taking a step toward me. “Are you OK?”

“Er… yes. I’m fine, thanks.”

Oh God. This is a pity visit. Maybe they’re worried I’m going to slash my wrists or something. As Robin takes breath to speak again, I cut in.

“Really. Everybody. You don’t need to worry about me. It’s very sweet of you to be concerned. But I’ll be all right. I’m just going to go to bed, and catch the train home tomorrow, and… just take it from there.”

“Er… that’s not why we’re here,” says Robin, ruffling his hair awkwardly. “We wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh,” I say, taken aback. “Right.”

“We wondered… all of us… if you’d help us with the protest.” He looks about as though for support, and everyone nods.

“Help you?” I stare back, bewildered. “But… I don’t know anything about it. Jess was right.” Even the memory is painful. “I was making it all up. I don’t even know about hedgehogs.”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Robin. “You’ve got loads of ideas, and that’s what we need. You’re right. We should think big. And Jim likes the idea of the party. Don’t you, Jim?”