I had to remember how to live.
“I realised, finally…I never really loved him either. I thought I did – I was so sure I knew what love was. But I was wrong. I know better now. It’s no excuse – there couldn’t be an excuse – but…I think we both just loved you so much, and you felt a million miles away. We screwed up hugely, me more than anyone. Because I was your little sister, and you kept my secret from our parents to protect me and that was even worse. So I’ll tell. I’ll tell the world. You don’t have to carry that any more, at least.”
Ellie was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her words were barely above a whisper. “I was maddest at Greg, you know. For hurting you. For coming between us. Isn’t that crazy?”
My heart ached just imagining it. I put my hand out on the table, palm up, just in case she wanted to take it. I could wait. As long as it took. “Not crazy. It just means you’re a far better sister than I ever could be. But I want to do better, I promise. Edward…he said I play make-believe with my life, twisting the facts to make them fit the story I’m telling. I think maybe that’s what I did with Greg, and that’s why I know I have to stop. I have to face life as it is, not as the story I imagine.”
Ellie stared at my hand. “In that case…what’s going on with you and Edward? The truth, not the story.”
“I wish I knew. Things were… They were great. Until yesterday. But…Edward is how I know that I wasn’t in love with Greg. Because I know what love feels like now. And that’s why… I know I have no right to ask you this. But I need your help. I need to make things right with him.”
Ellie considered me, her head tipped to the side. “Playing make-believe,” she said. “That’s what he said?”
I nodded.
“I can see what he means, I suppose,” Ellie said, her tone thoughtful. “You have always preferred your version of reality to anyone else’s.”
This was not, I felt, particularly helpful. So I said so.
Ellie gave a small laugh, and just for a moment, pressed her fingers against mine. It felt like absolution, like peace, or the rain after the storm, running over my whole body. She pulled away again, but she was still smiling. “Sorry. It’s just, I never thought of it that way, before. That the things you did… You didn’t always see them the way the rest of us did.”
“But I should have.” I tucked my hand back in my lap, still tingling.
“It might have made things easier. For you, as well as the rest of us,” Ellie conceded. “But that’s not the point, now. You’re right. We need to figure out how to fix things with you and Edward. Get you a real, bona fide happy ever after. At least, I’m assuming that’s what you want?” She raised a knowing eyebrow and I nodded miserably.
“It would be a start. It’s number two on my list of things to do to fix my life.”
“What’s number one?” Ellie asked, curiously.
I blinked up at her. “Making up with you, of course.”
Ellie’s cheeks turned a very pretty pink. “You know,” she said, watching me carefully. “As furious as I was with you, especially back then, one thing I was never sure about was whether you were mad at me, too.”
“At you?” I asked, incredulously. “Why on earth would I be mad at you?”
Ellie shrugged. “Because I won. Because Greg married me anyway. Because you were cast out into the wilderness, so to speak. I’m not sure.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t. Honestly. I was only ever mad at myself.”
“That helps, I think.” Ellie was still watching me closely, and it was starting to get a little bit intimidating. I checked the clock. Gone midday. That was respectable enough, right?
“You know,” I said, getting to my feet, “I think that if we’re going to fix this, we’ll need alcohol.”
I had the fridge door already open and my hand was reaching for the white wine when Ellie said, “Actually, I’m not really…drinking, at the moment.”
I turned back to face her, the fridge chilling my back as I left the door wide open. My befuddled and confused brain tried to remember if I’d seen Ellie drink at all since I got home. I hadn’t really been paying much attention, but I couldn’t remember her with a wine glass in her hand. Not that Ellie had ever been much of a drinker, but she liked a glass of wine as much as anyone else I was related to. If she’d stopped drinking…
“Oh my God.” I slammed the fridge door closed, leaving the wine where it was, chilling happily in the door. “You’re pregnant.” Ellie looked down, but her cheeks were even rosier, and she couldn’t hide the beaming smile that overtook her face and eyes. “That’s why Greg’s so ridiculously protective of you at the moment! Ellie, that’s wonderful!”
“We’re not telling people just yet,” she said, glancing up briefly, then back down at her stomach again. “It’s still so early…but we think it’ll be due in March.”
I crouched down in front of her chair, and took a hold of her hands. “That’s the most fantastic news,” I told her, honestly. “And you and Greg…”
“We’re finally back where we were when we got engaged,” she said, then corrected herself almost immediately. “No. No, it’s so much better than that. We’re different people now. Better people, I hope. Certainly happier people.”
My big sister was going to be a mum. “You’ll be wonderful parents,” I promised her, thinking of how great Greg had always been with Caroline, and how fantastic Ellie had always been at being the eldest sister.
Ellie looked up, still beaming. “I hope so. But, anyway, that’s still a way away yet. First we’ve got to fix things for her Aunty Kia, haven’t we?”
Aunty Kia. I quite liked that. “If we can,” I sighed. “Any ideas?”
Ellie pulled a notepad from between a stack of cookery books. “Well, first of all I think we need to make a list.”
I thought of my own abortive scribblings upstairs and sighed again. “I already tried that.”
“Yes, but you didn’t have me helping you then, did you?” Ellie smacked my knee. “So, sit back down and help me fix your life.”
I creaked to my feet. “Fine. But I’m having a glass of wine, first.”
And so, that evening, I found myself surrounded by the bright, golden colours of my room, Ellie’s list clutched in my hand, as I tried to get ready for what Isabelle was calling our Celebration of Nathaniel. It should have been pretty straightforward – after all, Ellie and I had spent hours outlining my plan for the next twelve months: what I wanted, what I expected, what I was going to give. I’d then spent a good thirty minutes on the phone to Duncan, handing in my notice and resolving the odd outstanding issue there. I’d spoken with Dad, once he commandeered the kitchen to get on with the cooking, just as Ellie and I were finishing The Plan, and got his smile of approval for my intentions. I’d spoken with Isabelle, Therese and Mum to discuss my plans. And I’d even spent twenty minutes watching a documentary on the mystery of the crystal skulls with Greg and Caroline in the middle room, and slipped in a few words about what was going on to them in the advert break.
The only person left to speak to was Edward. How hard could that be?
I’d asked all the others not to mention my plans to him, as I wanted to tell him myself. To a man, every single one of them had smiled knowingly, which was a bit irritating. Still, now that I was nearly there I was wishing that one of them, any of them, had been able to spill the beans first.
But they couldn’t. Because Edward hadn’t been there. Since he’d walked out on me the day before, Edward had not been seen by anyone. Glancing out of my window, I could see that his car still wasn’t parked on the gravel outside the front door. It was, I decided, entirely possible that he’d decided he was better off without the lot of us, and resolved to spend a couple of days getting bladdered with a bunch of strangers in the local pub. Or that he’d gone back to London. Or hopped the Eurostar for Paris, for that matter, with no intention of ever coming back to Britain.
All of which would have been kind of understandable, given everything that had happened. And any of which would make my current dilemma easier to solve – after all, my family didn’t care what I showed up to dinner in.
“Something that makes you sparkle,” Ellie had decided, and written down on my list, explaining, “You shouldn’t really need it – after all, you’re being open and honest, you’re being firm in your decisions, and you’re coming to him to make up. That should be enough. But just in case he’s feeling awkward, it’s probably worth blinding him with something special. And low cut,” she added, scribbling a few extra words on the piece of paper. Looking at it, I realised what she’d actually written was ‘wear something that will knock his socks off.’
Which was all very well, but I didn’t have anything like that. Apart from when I was raiding Therese’s wardrobe, I never had. I simply wasn’t that sort of person. I was more of a pair of jeans and heels with perhaps a shiny top except I’d get cold and have to wear a cardigan over it kind of girl. Always had been – especially in the freezing cold of Perth’s nightlife.
I sighed, and wondered if Ellie would settle for sparkly eyeliner. I had one of those, at least – even if it had come free with a magazine at the station.
I was just searching through my bags for the aforementioned make-up article, when there was a knock at my door.
“I told you she wouldn’t have anything suitable to wear,” Isabelle said, casting her eyes over my threadbare dressing gown before pushing her way into my room.