‘Are you okay?’
‘The boards are heavy. I just need a moment.’
‘Not now. I mean in general. Are you ill?’
‘I’m tired. I’ve already told you that.’
I offered her my hand as she rose but she didn’t accept it, grabbing for the bed instead then sitting down on it and retrieving her drink. ‘I might finish this in here.’
‘Okay. We can stay in here.’
I stared at the rug.If anything happens to me.Something was definitely going on.
‘Marianne, please tell me the truth. Are you sick?’
‘Do you mind seeing yourself out?’
‘Marianne! Talk to me!’
‘I’m tired.’
‘Then have a nap and talk to me afterwards.’
She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Why would you want to stay? We’ve got nothing to say to each other. Go home, Yvonne.’
‘But I’ve only been here for ten minutes.’
‘And you were probably ready to leave after two.’
‘I never said that.’ Even though it was the truth.
‘You didn’t have to. We both know we’ve never enjoyed each other’s company so let’s not start pretending now. I needed to show you where the documents are and I’ve done that.’
I couldn’t believe this. What a waste of time. ‘That was all you wanted me for?’ I said, unable to hide my frustration.
‘Yes.’
‘Nothing you want to tell me?’
‘No. Absolutely nothing.’
‘Then why drag me out here on Christmas Day? You could have asked me to come by any other time.’
‘Did you have better plans for today?’
No, but anything was better than this. I wasn’t cruel enough to voice that, even though I knew she’d have no qualms about saying it to me.
‘You’re sure you’re not ill?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You sound like a stuck record. Take those chocolates with you. I won’t eat them.’
‘Fine. Happy Christmas, Marianne.’
Shaking my head, I left the room and went downstairs as fast as I could. I unhooked the gift bag from the handle and slammed the door behind me, grinding my teeth in frustration. I stormed along the drive, yanked the car door open and tossed my handbag and the chocolates onto the passenger seat before getting in the other side. Sitting rigidly in my seat, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to quell the urge to scream. What a pointless waste of time. The round trip here was over an hour and for what? As I’d pointed out to her, Marianne could have shown me where the hidey hole was any time. In fact, she could have told me the location over the phone instead of dragging me away from my home on Christmas Day. Yes, I had had better plans! They might not have involved human interaction but I could have had an enjoyable enough day watching some television and cracking on with my jetty quilt instead of wasting the morning feeling anxious about seeing my sister and wasting the afternoon on this pointless visit.
A knock on the car window made me jump and I opened my eyes, expecting to see Marianne there, but I didn’t recognise the woman smiling at me. I started the engine so I could wind down the window. She was wearing a purple paper hat from a cracker over shoulder-length blonde hair and, at a guess, was in her early thirties.
‘Sorry for startling you,’ she said, smiling at me. ‘I’m Amelia. I live at number three. You must be Marianne’s sister. She’s told me so much about you.’
