I stared at Amelia across the width of her kitchen.
‘You know why.’
‘Don’t you think he has a right to make his own major life decisions?’
Her words were like well-aimed poisoned darts, each one perfectly placed. No one knows how to wound you better than your own sister.
‘No. This is one decision that only I can make.’
‘You’d rather live without him than give him the chance to spend his life with you, just in case you might have FAD. Which, incidentally, you could bloody well get tested for… but won’t.’
My smile was twisted. We’d taken hardly any time at all to get back there.
Amelia shook her head sadly. ‘You do know you’re doing it again, don’t you? Even now, when we know Dad would have passed away anyway from this illness, you’re still doing it.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Punishing yourself for what happened on that last morning. Blaming yourself for finding those bloody keys. Making sure you don’t have a happily-ever-after ending, because you’ve managed to convince yourself you don’t deserve one. Every time you start a relationship, you’re looking for a way to end it. This time, you’re using an illness that you might not even have.’
I drew in a deep breath and, for what felt like the thousandth time, firmly reminded her of my decision.
‘I won’t contact Nick. I won’t get tested. And I won’t stop trying to change your mind about having an operation.’
Her smile looked wry as she began gathering up the photographs.
‘You’re so bloody obstinate.’
‘Got it from my big sister,’ I replied.
*
It was Amelia who suggested the Sunday lunch idea.
‘I think Mum might still be worried that we’re not totally on board about things between her and Tom,’ she said, dropping her voice in case either of the septuagenarians walking a short distance ahead of us overheard her. From the level of the volume when they watched TV, that seemed highly unlikely. Even so, I leant in closer.
‘I think it would be nice to invite him to a proper family meal. A kind of welcome-to-the-family sort of thing.’
I groaned softly. ‘Oh God, you’re not going to quiz him about his finances or ask if his intentions are honourable, are you?’
Amelia gave a mischievous shrug. ‘That’s one of the few benefits of being sick. You can practically get away with murder and everyone forgives you.’
Mum was totally on board with the plan. In fact, I seemed to be completely out of the loop with the arrangements. She’d hurried away muttering something about shopping lists and sorting out the ‘good china’. Sunday was only two days away and she was a woman on a mission.
‘Is this really a good idea?’ I asked when my sister and I were alone once again.
Amelia smiled. ‘A family dinner with our mother’s seventy-five-year-old suitor. What could possibly go wrong?’
32
The cottage was filled with the smell of roasting beef. It took me straight back to Sunday lunches of my childhood and would normally have triggered a feeling of nostalgia and comfort. But not today, because for some reason something about this lunch was making me nervous. Amelia seemed concerned about nothing except what to wear, and Mum’s only fear appeared to be overcooking the meat or burning the potatoes. I was the only family member freaking out about today – and I had no idea why.
Amelia wasn’t the only one stressing about her wardrobe choice. I’d changed outfits three times, and nothing felt right.
‘You could always borrow something of mine,’ Amelia suggested as she passed my open bedroom door, before adding with a touch of sarcasm, ‘Oh no, I forgot, you’ve already done that.’ She disappeared into her bedroom, chuckling at her own joke.
I stared at her door as it clicked to a close. She was more Amelia and yet somehow less Amelia than before all of this happened. Sometimes it felt like a darker, evil twin had infiltrated her psyche and kept putting in unexpected and unwelcome appearances. I shook my head at such nonsense, because it sounded like the plot of a poorly drafted science-fiction novel. Amelia already had a twin – me – and neither of us was dark nor evil. But it was probably true that none of us were entirely ourselves right now; we were scarred and bruised by the events of the past few months and scared about the future.
I didn’t like the direction my thoughts had taken and looked for a distraction among the sea of tissue paper on the bed. I’d stumbled across an online sale from one of my favourite clothes shops and had given my credit card an energetic workout. I’d promised myself I’d only keep one of the dresses I’d bought, but they all looked so good it was hard to choose.
