Shopaholic and Sister

Nine

FOR THE PAST week I haven’t been able to sleep. Or concentrate on anything. All I can think about is the fact that I have a real, blood sister.

At first I felt totally shaken up. It’s OK for Mum and Dad; they’ve had weeks to get used to the idea. But to find out Dad had an affair years ago… and got somebody pregnant… I never thought Dad was like that, to be honest.

But he’s been really sweet about it. The day he and Mum came round to tell me, he could see I was a bit shell-shocked. So he sat down on the sofa with me and told the whole story. He kept reiterating that this all happened before he even met Mum, and that he had no idea he’d fathered a child. Apparently Marguerite the stewardess broke off their relationship with no warning. Dad got on the train one Monday morning, and she just wasn’t there. Another stewardess told him she’d had a whirlwind romance and married another passenger, who owned a frozen food business. Dad was so crushed, he started taking another train. And then they moved his work to Birmingham… and that was the end of it. He had no idea there was a baby.

But there was. A little girl called Jessica. All my life, without knowing it, I’ve had a sister, growing up miles away, with no idea I existed either.

And today, at last, I’m going to meet her!

Just the thought makes me feel exhilarated and jumpy all at once. How will we be the same? How will we be different? What will her voice be like? What will her clothes be like?

“Do I look OK?” I ask Luke, while anxiously surveying my appearance in the mirror. We’re in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, and I’m putting the finishing touches to my meeting-my-long-lost-sister outfit. It’s taken me several days, but after a lot of thought I’ve decided on my most flattering Seven jeans, some boots with spiky heels, a gorgeous pale pink Marc Jacobs jacket, and a T-shirt made ages ago for me by Danny.

“You look great,” Luke says patiently.

“It’s like… balancing formal with informal,” I explain. “So the jacket says ‘This is a special occasion,’ whereas the jeans say, ‘We’re sisters, we can be relaxed with each other!’ And the T-shirt says…”

I pause. Actually, I’m not sure what the T-shirt says, apart from “I’m friends with Danny Kovitz.” And I’m not even sure how true that is anymore. He hasn’t called back, even though I’ve left two messages.

“Becky,” says Luke, “I don’t honestly think it matters what you wear.”

“What?” I wheel round in disbelief. “Of course it matters! This is one of the most important moments of my life! I’ll always remember what I was wearing the day I met my sister for the first time. I mean… you remember what you were wearing when you met me for the first time, don’t you?”

Luke looks blank.

He doesn’t remember? How can he not remember?

“Well, I remember,” I say crossly. “You were wearing a gray suit and a white shirt and a dark green Hermès tie. And I was wearing my short black skirt and my suede boots and that awful white top which made my arms look fat.”

“If you say so.” Luke raises his eyebrows.

I smooth down my T-shirt. “I just want to look right. Like a sister.”

“What do sisters look like?” Luke asks, looking amused.

“They look… fun!” I think for a moment. “And friendly. And supportive. And like they’ll tell you if your bra strap is showing.”

“Then you do look exactly like a sister.” Luke kisses me. “Becky, relax! It’s going to be fine!”

I know I’m a bit wound-up, but I just can’t get over the idea of having a sister after being an only child for so long.

Not that I’ve minded being on my own or anything. Mum and Dad and I have always had a great time together. But sometimes I’ve heard other people talking about their brothers and sisters and wondered what it was like. I never thought I would actually get to find out!

What’s really spooky is that all this week, I’ve suddenly been noticing sisters. They’re everywhere! For example, the film of Little Women was on telly the other afternoon — and right after was a program about the Beverley Sisters! And every time I’ve seen two women together in the street, instead of just noticing what they were wearing, I’ve thought, “Are they sisters?”

It’s like there’s a whole world of sisters out there and finally I’m part of it.

I feel a smarting in my eyes and blink hard. It’s ridiculous, but ever since I heard about Jessica, my emotions have been all over the place. Last night I was reading this brilliant book called Long-Lost Sisters: The Love They Never Knew They Had and tears were streaming down my cheeks! The stories were just amazing. One was about these three Russian sisters who were in the same concentration camp during the war but didn’t know it. Then there was this woman who was told her sister had been killed but she would never believe it, and then she got cancer and there was no one to look after her three children, but they found the sister alive, just in time for them to say goodbye…

Oh God, I’m going to cry just thinking about it.

I take a deep breath and wander over to the table where I’ve put my present for Jessica. It’s a big basket full of Origins bath stuff, plus some chocolates, plus a little photo album of pictures of me when I was little.

I also got her a silver bean necklace from Tiffany, which exactly matches mine, but Luke said it might be a bit overwhelming, presenting her with jewelry on our first meeting. Which I didn’t really understand. I mean, I’d love it if someone gave me a Tiffany necklace! But he was really insistent, so I said I’d keep it for later.

I run my eyes over the basket, slightly dissatisfied. Should I maybe—

“The present is fine,” says Luke, just as I open my mouth. “You don’t need to add any more.”

How did he know what I was going to say?

“OK,” I say reluctantly. I look at my watch and feel a swoop of excitement. “Not long now! She’ll be here soon!”

The plan is, Jessica’s going to phone when her train gets in to Oxshott Station, then Dad will go and pick her up. It’s pure coincidence that she’s going to be in London this week. She lives in Cumbria, which is miles away, but apparently she was coming down anyway, for an academic conference. So she’s come down a day early, especially to meet me!

“Becky, before all the excitement starts… I wanted to have a quick word. On the subject of our honeymoon purchases.”

“Oh, right.”

I feel a twinge of resentment. Why does Luke have to bring this up now? This is a special day! There should be a general reprieve from all arguments, like in the war when they played football on Christmas Day.

Not that we’re at war or anything. But we did have a bit of a row yesterday when Luke found the twenty Chinese dressing gowns under the bed. And he keeps asking when I’m going to sort out the apartment.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve spoken to the furniture merchants,” says Luke. “They’ll be coming by on Monday to take away the Danish table.”

“Oh, right,” I say sheepishly. “Thanks. So, are they giving us a full refund?”

“Almost.”

“Oh, well! So we didn’t do too badly in the end!”

“No, we didn’t,” agrees Luke. “Unless you count the storage costs, the delivery costs, the expense of packaging it all up again…”

“Right,” I say hurriedly. “Of course. Well, anyway… all’s well that ends well!”

I try a conciliatory smile, but Luke’s not even looking. He’s opening up his briefcase and pulling out a wad of — oh God.

Credit card bills. My secret code-red-emergency bills, to be exact. Luke asked for them the other day and I had no choice but to get them out of their hiding place.

I was kind of hoping he’d be too busy to read them, though.

“Right!” I say, my voice slipping up two notches. “So… you’ve seen those, then!”

“I’ve paid them all off,” Luke says shortly. “Have you cut up the card?”

“Er… yes. And thank you for paying them off,” I add humbly. Luke gives me a hard look.

“Have you really cut it up?”

“Yes! I threw the pieces in the bin!”

“OK.” Luke turns back to the bills. “And there isn’t anything else to come? Anything you’ve paid for recently?”

I feel a tiny clenching in my stomach.

“Er… no,” I say. “That’s all.”

I can’t tell him about the Angel bag. I just can’t. He still thinks all I bought in Milan was a present for him. That’s about my only redeeming feature right now.

And, anyway, I can pay it off myself, no problem. I mean, in three months I’ll have a job and my own income! It’ll be easy!

To my slight relief my mobile phone starts ringing. I scrabble in my bag and pull it out. Suze’s number is flashing on the display.

Suze.

At once I feel a gigantic leap of nerves and a familiar hurt starting to rise inside me.

I haven’t spoken once to Suze since I left her house. She hasn’t called… and neither have I. If she’s all busy and happy with a fab new life, then so be it. She doesn’t even know I’ve got a sister.

I press the green button and take a deep breath.

“Hi, Suze!” I exclaim in airy tones. “How are you? How’s the family?”

“I’m fine,” says Suze. “We’re all fine. You know… same old…”

“And how’s Lulu?” I say lightly. “I expect you two have been busy doing lots of fun things together?”

“She’s… fine.” Suze sounds awkward. “Listen, Bex… about that. I wanted to—”

I cut her off. “Actually, I’ve got a bit of exciting news of my own. Guess what? It turns out… I’ve got a long-lost sister!”

There’s a shocked silence.

“What?” Suze says at last.

“It’s true! I’ve got a half sister that I never knew about. I’m meeting her today for the first time. She’s called Jessica.”

“I… can’t believe it.” Suze sounds totally poleaxed. “You’ve got a sister? How come…”

“My dad. Before he met my mum. It’s quite a long story. But isn’t it great? I’ve always wanted a sister!”

“How… how old is she?”

“Only two years older than me. Hardly any difference! I expect we’ll become really good friends,” I add carelessly. “In fact… we’ll be much closer than friends. I mean, we’ve got the same blood and everything. We’ll have a lifelong bond.”

“Yes,” Suze says after a pause. “I… suppose you will.”

“Anyway, I must go! She’ll be here any moment! I can’t wait!”

“Well… good luck. Have fun.”

“We certainly will!” I say brightly. “Oh… and do give my love to Lulu. Have a lovely birthday with her, won’t you?”

“I… will,” says Suze, sounding defeated. “Bye, Bex. And… congratulations.”

As I switch off the phone I’m a bit hot about the face. Suze and I have never been like this with each other before.

But she’s the one who went out and got a new best friend. Not me.

I thrust my mobile phone back into my bag and look up to see Luke regarding me with a raised eyebrow.

“Suze all right?”

“She’s fine,” I say a little defiantly, shaking my hair back. “Come on.”

As I come down the stairs, Suze’s hurt voice lingers in my mind, but I try to ignore it. I can’t spend time dwelling on her. I’ve got important things to focus on. Jessica will be arriving here soon! This is one of the biggest days of my life… ever!

“All set?” says Mum, as we go into the kitchen. She’s wearing a smart blue dress and is wearing her “special occasion” makeup — she uses lots of shiny highlighter under her eyebrows to “open up the eyes.” I’ve seen it in the makeup book Janice gave her for Christmas.

“Did I hear you say you’re selling some furniture?” she adds as she turns on the kettle.

“We’re returning a table,” Luke says easily. “We seem to have ordered two by mistake. But it’s been taken care of.”

“Only I was going to say, you should sell it on eBay!” says Mum. “You’d get a good price!”

eBay.

“So… you can sell anything on eBay, can you?” I ask casually.

“Oh yes!” says Mum. “Anything at all.”

Like, say, handpainted eggs depicting the legend of the Dragon King. Yes! This is the answer. It’ll solve everything!

I have to stop myself from punching the air with glee.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it, love?” says Mum, watching me fondly. “Let’s all have some nice coffee while we’re waiting.”

We all involuntarily glance at the clock. Jessica’s train should arrive at Oxshott in five minutes. Five minutes!

“Toodle-oo!” There’s a knocking at the back door and we all look round, to see Janice peering through the glass.

Oh my goodness. Where did she get that sparkly blue eyeshadow?

Please don’t let her give any to Mum, I find myself praying.

“Come on in, Janice!” says Mum, opening the door. “And Tom! What a nice surprise!”

Blimey, Tom’s looking rough. His hair is rumpled and unwashed, his hands are all blistered and cut, and there’s a deep furrow in his brow.

“We just came to wish you luck,” says Janice. “Not that you need it!” She pops her box of Canderel sugar substitute down on the counter, then turns to look at me. “So, Becky. A sister!”

“Congratulations,” says Tom. “Or whatever you say.”

“I know!” I say. “Isn’t it amazing?”

Janice shakes her head and looks at Mum a bit reproachfully.

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from us, Jane!”

“We wanted Becky to be the first to know,” says Mum, patting me on the shoulder. “Hazelnut whirl, Janice?”

“Lovely!” says Janice, taking a biscuit from the plate and sitting down. She nibbles it thoughtfully for a few moments, then looks up. “What I don’t understand is… why did this girl get in touch? After all this time?”

“There was a very good reason,” I say with an air of solemn drama. “It’s because we’ve got a hereditary disease.”

Janice gives a little scream.

“A disease! Jane! You never told me that!”

“It’s not a disease,” says Mum. “Becky, you know it’s not a disease! It’s a ‘factor.’ ”

“A… ‘factor’?” echoes Janice, looking even more horrified than before. “What kind of factor?” I can see her eyeing her hazelnut whirl as though she’s afraid it might contaminate her.

“It’s not life-threatening!” laughs Mum. “It’s just a blood disorder, which can be a risk in certain situations. In surgery, for example. The blood clots too thickly… ”

“Don’t!” Janice winces. “I can’t bear talking about blood!”

“The doctors told Jess she should warn other members of her family to get tested, and that was the spur. She’d always known she had a father somewhere but didn’t know his name.”

“So she asked her mother who her long-lost father was… ” Janice chimes in avidly, as though she’s following a Ruth Rendell miniseries on the telly.

“Her mother is dead,” explains Mum.

“Dead!” exclaims Janice, looking appalled. “From the blood factor?”

“No,” Mum responds patiently. “From a car crash. But her aunt had the name of Jessica’s father written down in an old diary. So she got it out and gave it to Jessica.”

“And what was the name?” breathes Janice.

There’s a pause.

“Mum, it was Graham!” says Tom, rolling his eyes. “Graham Bloomwood. Obviously.”

“Oh yes,” says Janice, looking almost let down. “Of course it was. Well, goodness me.” She exhales sharply. “What a dreadful shock. For all of you.”

“We were in quite a state when we got the news,” Mum admits. “You know, that’s why we didn’t come to the Hawaiian quiz evening at the church. Graham didn’t really have a migraine.”

“I knew it!” says Janice. “I said to Martin at the time, ‘Something’s not right with the Bloomwoods.’ But I had no idea it was a long-lost family member!”

“Well,” says Mum comfortingly, “how could you?”

Janice is silent for a moment, taking it all in. Then suddenly she stiffens and lays a hand on Mum’s arm.

“Jane. Just be careful. Has this girl laid any claim to Graham’s fortune? Has he altered his will in her favor?”

OK. Janice has definitely been watching too many TV murder mysteries.

“Janice!” says Mum with a laugh. “No! It’s nothing like that. As it happens, Jess’s family is”—she lowers her voice discreetly—“rather well-off.”

“Ah!” breathes Janice.

Mum lowers her voice still further. “They’re rather big in frozen food.”

“Oh, I see,” says Janice. “So she’s not all alone in the world, then.”

“Oh no,” says Mum, back to normal. “She’s got a stepfather and two brothers. Or is it three?”

“But no sisters,” I chime in. “We’ve both had that gap in our life. That… unfulfilled longing.”

Everyone turns to look at me.

“Have you had an unfulfilled longing, Becky?” asks Janice.

“Oh yes. Definitely.” I take a pensive sip of coffee. “Looking back, I think I always somehow knew I had a sister.”

“Really, love?” Mum says in surprise. “You never mentioned it.”

“I never said anything.” I give Janice a brave smile. “But deep down I knew.”

“Goodness!” says Janice. “How did you know?”

“I felt it in here,” I say, clasping my hands to my chest. “It was as if… a part of me was missing.”

I make a sweeping gesture with my hand — and make the mistake of catching Luke’s eye.

“Which particular part of you was missing?” he says with apparent interest. “Not a vital organ, I hope.”

God, he has no heart. None. Last night, he kept reading out bits from my Long-Lost Sisters book, then looking up and saying, “You cannot be serious.”

“The soul mate part, actually,” I shoot back.

“Thanks.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Not that kind of soul mate! A sisterly soul mate!”

“What about Suzie?” says Mum, looking over in surprise. “She’s been like a sister to you, surely. She’s such a dear girl.”

“Friends come and go,” I say, looking away. “She’s not like family. She doesn’t understand me like a true sister would.”

Janice looks at Mum sympathetically. “You’re being very brave, dear. But you must have suffered when you found out.”

“It was difficult,” says Mum, sitting down at the table. “I can’t pretend it wasn’t. Although, of course, the affair happened long before Graham met me.”

“Of course!” Janice says hastily. “Of course it did! I wasn’t for a moment suggesting that… that he… you…”

She breaks off, flustered, and takes a gulp of coffee.

“And in some ways…” Mum pauses, stirring her drink, with a rueful smile. “In some ways it was to be expected. Graham was quite the Don Juan when he was younger. It’s no wonder he found women throwing themselves at him.”

“That’s… right,” Janice says doubtfully.

Dad? Don Juan?

I try to picture him standing at some glamorous bar, with his seventies mustache and a wide, patterned tie, surrounded by gorgeous women drinking martinis. Then my gaze drifts out the window to see him coming over the lawn, toward the back door. His graying hair is all tousled, his face is red, and even though I’ve told him a million times not to, he’s wearing socks inside his sandals.

“Women could never resist him,” says Mum. “That’s the truth of it.” She brightens a little. “But we’re having therapy to help us through the crisis. At the new holistic health center in Wood Street.”

“Therapy?” I echo in astonishment. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely!” says Dad, coming in at the back door. “We’ve had three sessions already.”

“She’s a very nice girl, our therapist,” says Mum. “Although a bit nervy. Like all these young people.”

Wow. I had no idea Mum and Dad were having therapy. But it makes sense. I mean, bloody hell. How would I feel if Luke suddenly announced he had a long-lost daughter?

“Therapy!” Janice is saying. “I can hardly believe it!”

“We have to be realistic, Janice,” says Mum. “You can’t expect this kind of revelation to have no repercussions.”

“A discovery of this scale can tear a family apart,” agrees Dad, popping a hazelnut whirl into his mouth. “It can rock the very foundations of a marriage.”

“Goodness.” Janice claps a hand over her mouth, looking from Mum to Dad and back with wide eyes. “What… what sort of repercussions are you expecting?”

“There’ll be anger, I expect,” Mum says knowledgeably. “Recriminations. Coffee, Graham?”

“Yes, thanks, love.” He beams at her.

“Therapy is a pile of crap,” says Tom suddenly. “I tried it with Lucy.”

We all turn and look at him. He’s holding a cup of coffee in both hands and glowering at us over the top of it.

“The therapist was a woman,” he adds, as though that explains everything.

“I think they often are, love,” Mum says cautiously.

“She took Lucy’s side. She said she could understand her frustrations.” Tom’s hands clench more tightly round his cup. “What about my frustrations? Lucy was supposed to be my wife! But she wasn’t interested in any of my projects. Not the conservatory, not the en suite bathroom—”

“I love your summerhouse, Tom!” I cut in quickly. “It’s very… big!”

In fact, it’s monstrous. I nearly died when I saw it out the window this morning. It’s three stories high, with gables and a deck.

“We’re just a bit worried about the planning regulations, aren’t we?” says Janice, nervously glancing at Tom. “We’re worried it might be classed as a residence.”

“Well, it’s a real achievement!” I say encouragingly. “To build something like that!”

“I enjoy working with wood,” Tom says in a gruff voice. “Wood doesn’t let you down.” He drains his cup. “In fact, I’d better get back to it. Hope it all goes well.”

As the back door closes behind him there’s an awkward silence.

“He wants to make a boat next,” says Janice, looking strained. “A boat, on the lawn!”

“Janice, have another coffee,” Mum says soothingly. “Shall I put a splash of sherry in it?”

Janice looks torn.

“Better not,” she says at last. “Not before twelve.”

She rootles in her handbag and produces a little pill, which she pops into her mouth. Then she zips up her bag again and smiles brightly. “So! What does Jessica look like?”

“She’s… she’s nice-looking,” begins Mum. “Isn’t she, Graham?”

“Very nice-looking!” says Dad. “Tall… slim…”

“Dark hair,” adds Mum. “Quite a reserved girl, if you know what I mean.”

I’m listening avidly as they describe her. Although I glimpsed her in the street that day we got back, the sunlight was so bright and I was so distracted by Mum and Dad’s weird behavior, I only got a vague impression. So all week I’ve been trying to build on that image. Mum and Dad keep saying how tall and slim she is, so I’ve kind of pictured her like Courteney Cox. All willowy and elegant, in a white silk trouser suit, maybe.

I keep having visions of our first meeting. We’ll fling our arms round each other, and then she’ll smile at me, brushing away the tears, and I’ll smile back… and we’ll have an instant connection. Like we already know each other and understand each other better than anyone else in the world.

I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll turn out that we’ll have sisterly psychic powers. Or maybe we’ll be like the twins I read about in Long-Lost Sisters, who were separated at birth but went on to have the same jobs and marry men with the same name.

I’m gripped by this idea. Maybe it’ll turn out that Jessica is a personal shopper, too, and is married to a man called Luke! She’ll turn up in exactly the same Marc Jacobs jacket as me, and we can go on breakfast TV and everyone will say—

Oh, except she’s not a personal shopper, I suddenly remember. She’s training to be a doctor. Doctor of geography.

No. Geology.

But then… didn’t I once think about training to be a doctor? I mean, that can’t be just coincidence.

“And where does she live?” Janice is asking.

“In the North,” says Mum. “A village called Scully. In Cumbria.”

“The North!” says Janice, with as much trepidation as though Mum’s said the North Pole. “That’s a long way to travel! What time does she arrive?”

“Well.” Mum looks at the clock and frowns. “That’s a point. She should have arrived by now. Graham, love, what time does Jess’s train get in?”

“I thought it was about now… ” Dad’s brow wrinkles. “Maybe I should phone the station. See if there’s been a problem.”

“I’ll do it if you like,” says Luke, looking up from the newspaper.

“She did say she’d phone…” Mum begins, as Dad goes out to the hall telephone.

Suddenly the doorbell rings.

We all stare at each other, frozen. A few moments later, Dad’s voice comes from the hall. “I think it’s her!”

Oh my God.

She’s here. My new sister. My new soul mate!

“I’ll slip away,” says Janice. “Let you have your precious family moment.” She squeezes my hand, then disappears out the back door.

“Let me just tidy my hair,” says Mum, hurrying out to the hall mirror.

“Quick!” I say. “Where’s the present?”

“Here it is,” says Luke, handing me the cellophane-wrapped gift basket. “And Becky…” He puts a hand on my arm.

“What?” I say impatiently. “What is it?”

“I know you’re excited to meet Jessica,” he says. “And so am I. But remember. You are strangers. I’d just… take it easy.”

“We’re not strangers!” I say in astonishment. “She’s my sister! We’ve got the same blood in us!”

Honestly. Doesn’t Luke know anything?

I hurry out to the hall, clutching the basket. Through the frosted glass pane of the front door I can see an indistinct, blurry figure.

“By the way,” says Mum as we advance toward the door, “she likes to be called Jess.”

“Ready?” says Dad with a twinkle.

This is the moment! I quickly adjust my jacket, smooth down my hair, and put on my widest, most welcoming and loving smile.

Dad reaches for the handle and pulls back the front door with a flourish.

And there, standing on the doorstep, is my sister.