SADIE: Okay.
Practically a three-volume novel.
22 One of the downsides of growing up with money and then steadfastly refusing to take any of it once you became an adult was that you could tell the difference between cheap and expensive wine but had no way to obtain the good stuff without compromising your integrity.
23 Nor was I a fan of his. If you want to hear some stupendously bad takes on the city comedies of Thomas Middleton and Ben Jonson, then call Dr Rory Worland.
24 The part of me that was a scholar knew this was not true. The idea of blood running cold comes from the Galenic notion of the four humours, something which comes up regularly in medieval and early modern literature. Blood was considered to be hot, so the idea of blood running cold was a way of expressing that your humours were out of whack and you were seriously ill.
I knew this, and still it felt like my blood very literally ran cold.
Chapter FourSadie
Chess and I were both tactile people, but she hadn’t hugged me this long and this hard since our mother’s funeral.
‘You’re cutting off my circulation,’ I said, voice muffled against her shoulder. We were the same height, but she was still wearing her heels from the office, so I felt like a little girl again, being hugged by her quite-literally-big sister.
‘I don’t care.’ Chess somehow managed to tighten her grip on me. ‘I’m so proud of you. I’m so thrilled for you and I’m so devastated that you’re leaving Sydney, and – oh God.’
‘Don’t you dare cry. Then I’ll cry, and I’ve already cried so much I think I’m at risk of dehydration.’
She drew back at last, framing my face between her hands. ‘I amsoproud of you, Sadie. You’ve worked so hard. You’ve earned this.’
‘I don’t know about that. Everyone I know works this hard, and—’
‘No.’ She pinched my cheeks. I felt like an even littler girl. ‘We’re not letting in impostor syndrome. We’re not letting in survivor’s guilt. We’re not even letting in the fact that it’s going to break my heart when you move. Tonight, we’re celebrating.’
Chess let go of me and picked up the bottle of champagne she had resting in an ice bucket, taking the wire cage off with a few quick twists. ‘We’re celebrating the fact that you’re brilliant.’ She popped the cork. ‘And that academia has finally recognised it.’
Despite my best efforts, my bottom lip started to tremble. ‘I love you, Chessie.’
Her eyes were soft as she looked at me. ‘I love you too, sweetie. To the end of the universe and back again.’
That was something she’d been saying to me since I was five years old. She’d been doing my kindergarten reading with me – Mum had been off somewhere appeasing our father, leaving Chess, aged all of ten, to look after me – and she was helping me sound out the words in a picture book:I love you to the moon and back.
I was clearly already a budding literary critic, because I was putting pressure on my reading material before I could even properly read.If I wrote this book, I’d say I love you to thesunand back,I announced.Mrs Wilson told us the sun is further away than the moon.
There’s heaps of stuff further than the moon, Chess had agreed.The stars are even further than the sun.
The front door had slammed closed so hard the walls of our house shook. Mum was saying something in a pleading tone. Our father was yelling over the top of her.
I’d put my arms around Chess. I used to do that a lot as a kid – whenever I was scared or sad or overwhelmed, I’d cling to her like she was a teddy bear.I love you to the stars and back, Chessie,I’d whispered.
Chess had hugged me back.Well, I love you to the end of the universe, she’d declared,and back again.
Adult Chess had just passed me a glass of champagne when I lost the battle with tears. ‘I never could have done this without you, Chess.’
‘Oh, Sadie.’ She drew me into another hug – one-armed, this time, so neither of us spilled our wine. ‘You did this all on your own. All I’ve ever been is moral support.’
I laughed, trying not to let this turn into a full joy-poignant-as-grief weeping jag. ‘That’s absolutely not true, but I know better than to have this argument with you.’
‘Damn straight.’ She grinned. ‘You’ll lose.’
She took a sip of her champagne. ‘Although you do have a point. I’m your legal counsel as well as moral support. Make sure you send your employment contract over to me, okay? I don’t want you signing anything that I haven’t gone over with a fine-tooth comb.’
