My Year of Saying No - Maxine Morrey Page 0,26

crumble in thick, velvety custard the colour of sunshine and took a spoonful, feeling the wonderful textures meld in my mouth – crunchy topping, soft fruit and tangy custard.

‘Don’t forget, it’s my book club this Thursday evening, Lottie.’

I shifted my eyes to my sister, the place setting in front of her entirely devoid of pudding bowl. She took a sip of tonic water as I swallowed my mouthful.

‘Umm… OK,’ I said, not sure what I was supposed to make of this announcement.

Sally turned a little and fixed her gaze on me. ‘Have you forgotten?’

Apparently so.

She let out a sigh. ‘I’m going to be in Kuala Lumpur so I won’t be able to make it, so I need you to sit in for me.’

‘Oh.’

‘Good. Thanks.’ And she turned away, giving a small, elegant hair flick to catch the attention of Oliver, who raised his eyes briefly from his bowl to acknowledge her, smile and then return his concentration to the food. Mum’s puddings could do that to you. Sally accepted this and turned back.

‘I can’t do that, I’m afraid, Sally.’

Sally sat up a little straighter. ‘Sorry?’

‘Thursday. The book club thing. I can’t do it.’

She frowned at me. Well, I assume that was what she was doing. Sally had been getting Botox for so long, figuring out some of her expressions now was guesswork on our part.

‘You have to!’ she said.

I gave a full-on frown that no one could mistake and loaded up my spoon. ‘No, I don’t,’ I said, taking another mouthful.

‘Yes! You do! I’ve arranged it all now. You can’t cancel on me! How would that make me look?’

I did my best to keep my emotions low-key and stick to my guns. ‘I’m sorry if you’ve made arrangements, but you didn’t ask me if I could do it, or even if I wanted to, so you can’t be cross now when I can’t make it.’

‘You know I rely on you to take over when I can’t be here.’

‘I know that you have done for the last three years, but things have changed and I don’t enjoy doing it. I’m sorry if you feel I’m letting you down, but it’s not up to you to host every time anyway. The others can take turns to work around your shifts. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind!’

‘It’s my book club! I can hardly ask someone else to host it, can I?’

‘You seem OK with asking me.’

‘You’re my sister. You don’t count.’

‘Wow. Thanks,’ I said, shovelling in another spoonful, partly as a diversionary tactic for my mouth.

Sally gave an airy flap of her hand. ‘You know what I mean.’

I gave a quick brow raise without looking up.

‘Lots, please?’ Sally moved from expectant to pleading.

My mind cast back over the past three years when I’d had to host her bloody book club. They always picked high-brow books that I didn’t enjoy reading but Sally insisted I slog through so that I could take part in the discussion. Except I never did take part in the discussion. The five women who came to Sally’s book club never made an effort to include me and pretty much only ever spoke to me to request more tea. I wasn’t entirely unconvinced that they thought I was staff. Either way, the thought of getting back into that loop gave me stomach ache. And now was the perfect time to put a stop to it.

‘I can’t, Sally. I’m sorry. They’re not really… my kind of people.’ In for a penny, in for a pound.

‘They’re not your… What does that even matter? They’re my kind of people! And you’re making me let them down.’

‘I’m sure they’ll get over it,’ I said, running out of patience.

Mum gave me a look, but I dropped my eyes to the bowl and concentrated on getting the last few bits of comforting deliciousness out of it.

‘I see!’ Sally said. It was just two little words, but they were absolutely loaded.

‘I’m guessing by the tone of your voice, you don’t. Not really.’

‘I do. Entirely,’ she said, her blue eyes flashing at me before turning to Oliver, who was now watching the interaction with a mixture of interest and wariness. ‘Last year, my sister did this stupid year of saying yes, and now this year it’s all about saying no. And apparently that applies to family too. Honestly, Lottie. Whatever will it be next?’

My face was burning with embarrassment and indignation. ‘It wasn’t stupid, Sally. It was to support Jess and to cheer myself up after my relationship ended.