Just Like the Other Girls - Claire Douglas Page 0,93

games you play with Daddy. How you always have to get your own way.’

‘Oh, don’t be so immature. You know nothing about it.’

Katy hovered by the door, Mittens in her arms struggling to get down.

‘Unlike little Goody Two Shoes St Kathryn, I suppose.’

‘Now that’s enough.’

‘What is it going to be next? Opening our house to all those tramps on the street? Or letting the impoverished artists you’re always funding come and live with us?’

‘I said that’s enough. Why can’t you be more altruistic, Viola?’

‘Like you, I suppose.’ Viola laughed sarcastically.

‘I refuse to argue with you. I know that’s what you want. But it’s not going to happen,’ she said, her voice cold. ‘And turn this rubbish off. Honestly, the amount of money I spend on your education and you listen to drivel like this.’

Kathryn shrank back into the shadows as Viola charged out of the room and thundered up the stairs.

Katy had Mittens for a year. A glorious, happy year. Until one day Mittens never came home.

Katy spent every hour she wasn’t at school or asleep traipsing the pavements looking for her. Huw helped her make posters, which she stuck on lampposts, and every night she cried herself to sleep.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Elspeth, one evening a few weeks later, as Katy sat hunched over her orange juice. She put her hands on Katy’s shoulders and gently squeezed them.

‘I just wish I knew what happened to her,’ sobbed Katy. ‘I did everything to make a good home for her.’

‘I know you did, sweetheart,’ said Huw, pulling out a chair to sit next to her.

Katy could see Viola out of the corner of her eye, smirking at the kitchen sink. And in that moment she knew. She just knew her cat’s disappearance had something to do with her sister.

Katy stood up so quickly that she almost knocked over her drink. She heard Huw cry out in surprise. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Katy cried. ‘You’ve done something to her! You never want me to be happy.’

Viola looked like she’d been slapped. Katy couldn’t decide if it was because she was actually standing up for herself, or that she’d accused her of doing something unspeakable. ‘Of course not,’ snapped Viola. ‘My God, I’m not a monster. She probably just found another family. Cats aren’t loyal creatures, Katy.’

Viola glanced at Elspeth but Katy couldn’t read her mother’s expression.

Later, as Katy was passing the sitting room, she heard Elspeth’s clear voice ring out across the hallway. ‘I do hope you’re not responsible for Mittens going missing,’ she said. Katy hovered by the door, holding her breath. She could just make out Viola sitting in the armchair by the window, her legs curled underneath her, a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in her lap, with its vibrant orange cover.

‘Why do you always have to assume I’m nasty, Mother?’

Elspeth pressed her lips together in answer.

Then Viola glanced up at where Katy was hovering, a nasty smile on her face. It was me, her expression seemed to taunt and Katy felt a surge of rage so fierce that she had to clench her fists by her sides, her nails pressing into her palms until they drew blood.

Either Viola was pretending because she wanted to upset Katy or she had had something to do with Mittens’s disappearance. Either way, Katy knew she’d have her revenge.

And she was willing to wait.

34

Kathryn

‘Do you have to go today?’ asks Ed, sitting up in bed. He’s wearing his Mr Lazy pyjamas and the T-shirt stretches over his belly. ‘It’s our weekend. Family time. We never see you on a Saturday any more.’

Kathryn sits on the edge of the bed to pull on her opaque tights. ‘She’s my mother.’

‘Adoptive mother.’

‘And she has no one else.’

‘Maybe she should employ two people. It’s a lot for you to take on.’ His hands move to her shoulders: they feel warm through her blouse. ‘You’ve got two sons and a husband. We need you too.’

‘Please. Don’t make me feel guilty.’ She moves away from him and steps into her skirt.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. But with Jacob and everything he’s been through …’

‘It’s one day a week.’

‘Two, actually.’

She tuts. ‘You’re at work on Wednesday and the boys are at school. You don’t even notice I’m not here. I even leave you meals to cook for the boys – if you remember to defrost them.’

‘Actually,’ she can hear the hurt in his voice, ‘I miss you. When you’re not at your