Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,10
her grandmother set great store by the acquisition of knowledge and would turn each and every conversation into a test. ‘What’s the capital of Peru?’ she’d ask, when she found Ellie gazing up at a picture of Paddington Bear on the landing (an original artwork, Grandma said), or ‘How much milk would you have left if I poured you a quarter of a pint from this bottle?’ when she was so dying of thirst she couldn’t even think straight. Even if she could, she wouldn’t have been able to answer. Ellie was always pitiful at answering the questions. She’d missed so much school from being ill. She was back in a classroom at the moment but had spent lots of time having lessons with Mummy at home. She’d loved having her mother all to herself, especially as they didn’t really do much work but would often go to the park instead and she would sometimes even buy her an ice cream, something she had to keep secret from Abby. Also, being at home meant that she got a break from the children who teased her. Some of the really mean ones called her ‘Illie’: ‘Hey, Illie, why are you at school? Illie, are you going to be sick?’ It made her want to cry. But the worst thing about being ill was having to go to see doctors all the time. They asked so many questions and made her lie on a bed and poked her tummy and put a needle in her arm and stole half her blood and she was worried she wouldn’t ever get it back, even though they said she’d grow more. She hated it. She’d even had to go to hospital where they asked even more questions. Most of them Mummy answered, thank goodness.
‘How long did your journey take?’
Her grandmother was asking her a question already, looking at her pointedly as if she were her teacher at school, and Ellie felt her insides curl up in fear as she didn’t yet know how to tell the time. She didn’t know anything much, not like Abby. She couldn’t even read properly and was well aware she was on the bottom table in school for maths, English and spelling, even though the teacher gave them different names like ‘Badger’ table for spelling and ‘Triangle’ table for maths.
Grandma was waiting for an answer. She was always dressed nicely, with lots of scarves, even indoors, whereas Ellie and Abby had hardly anything new. Their mum had new things too but she said that was because she worked in a boutique and she had to look nice, so the owners sold the clothes to her cheaply. If Grandma was rich, and they were poor, then Ellie wondered why she didn’t give them some of her money.
‘Thirty-three minutes,’ said Abby, as she walked past and Ellie felt herself go weak with relief.
‘I was asking Eleanor, not you,’ said Grandma.
Days consisted of hanging around the house or the garden – their grandmother seldom took them anywhere and their grandfather worked until late at night. He had a business importing wine and they only really saw him at the weekend. He would call them into his study and ask them to read aloud to him, something else that Ellie failed dismally at, and so he’d taken to only asking Abby.
As today was a wet day, there was no going outside. They were expected to entertain themselves with board games; TV was strictly off limits. Abby decided to take herself up to her room and Ellie followed, but Abby closed her door firmly. Ellie sighed, knowing this was an emphatic ‘do not disturb’ message. She wandered back downstairs, listening out in the large silent house that she still sometimes got lost in. She could hear a far-off hoover, which was the cleaner doing her daily rounds. At the foot of the stairs Ellie could see into the drawing room where her grandmother was sitting in a small armchair, her heels up on a footstool as she read her newspaper. A cup and saucer lay on the side table. Ellie knew from experience not to disturb her grandmother during her mid-morning ‘downtime’ and so she slunk away. She found herself outside the library and peered inside. It was a room she avoided as it intimidated her – all those books she couldn’t read – but this time something caught her eye. A butterfly was trapped inside, fluttering futilely against the windowpane. Ellie watched as it