Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,13

wasn’t even supposed to be here yet. This was meant to be time for just her and Ellie.

After her impromptu invitation, Abby had wanted to write again to retract it but it was too late: Ellie emailed to say she’d booked the flights. Then her mother had got wind of Ellie’s trip and had invited herself along too. It was impossible to say no, but Abby knew what it was like when the two of them were together, knew she’d be the third wheel, and so specifically and clearly asked her mother to come two days later.

‘I know why you’ve come here early,’ Abby suddenly said, unable to take the silence anymore.

Susanna smiled. ‘You always were a know-all, that was your problem. But in fact, I just came early as I really wanted to see my girls. Although, judging by the argument when I arrived, I’m not too sure how you’re getting on. Surely you’ve buried the hatchet by now? You just have to accept that you’re two very different people and learn to get along.’

‘We’re getting on just fine,’ said Abby through gritted teeth. Outside they could hear Ellie laughing, seemingly brought out of her slump by Matteo. Abby stopped chopping to listen. Ellie’s laugh grated on her nerves. What is she doing? Always so flirty, getting men eating out of her hand.

‘Well, they certainly seem to be,’ said Susanna, cocking her head and smiling with approval.

Abby stopped still. She flashed a look to her mother but Susanna, slicing up tomatoes, didn’t notice.

‘You could be nicer to her, you know,’ said Susanna. She turned to face Abby. ‘I’m sorry for what happened when she was young. For not spending enough time with you. I feel like I’m responsible for your relationship now.’

Abby’s mouth dropped open in utter astonishment. Her mother was apologizing? It was far too little, too late. She furiously stirred the pasta on the hob.

‘Are you going to tell her?’ asked Abby, a brittle edge to her voice.

‘Tell who?’ Ellie walked into the kitchen, empty glass in hand.

Abby spun around, heart racing. Neither she nor Susanna said a word.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Ellie, a puzzled frown appearing on her face.

Abby’s voice felt strangled in her throat – should she speak up? ‘We thought it would be nice to go to the beach tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Maybe get some lunch there.’

‘Yes, it would be lovely to explore,’ said Susanna. ‘What do you think?’

Ellie was watching them both strangely but then nodded. ‘Sure, why not?’

There was a moment’s silence, then Abby smiled. ‘Great!’ she said. ‘I’ll just go and set the table. Will you serve up, Mum?’

Susanna nodded and Abby left the room.

After she’d gone, Susanna exchanged a look with her other daughter. She shrugged and smiled reassuringly, putting on her best ‘it’s Abby, you know what she can be like’ face.

‘You want a hand?’ asked Ellie.

‘It’s fine, darling. You go and take a seat and I’ll bring it out in a minute.’

Susanna waited until her daughter had left, then exhaled deeply. It wasn’t enough. She breathed in again. In, out. In, out. In. Out. Finally, when she had composed herself, she turned her attention to the dinner.

SEVEN

‘Ta da!’ said Susanna as she carried through plates of pasta and salad, placing them on the old table on the terrace. More wine was poured and Abby pulled in her wooden chair, bleached soft by the sun. She had made sure she was next to her husband, with Ellie opposite her. Her mother she had placed furthest away.

‘This is delicious,’ said Susanna. ‘I never knew you could cook like this, Abby.’

And yet I’m thirty-six years old, thought Abby. Time enough to have found out.

‘Matteo is a very lucky man,’ joked Susanna.

Abby’s nerves grated again. ‘We share the cooking,’ she said.

‘Ah, a thoroughly modern relationship,’ said Susanna. ‘So come on, Matteo, spill. Was it Abby’s skills in the kitchen that drew you to her?’

Matteo turned to Abby and she saw that look in his deep brown eyes, the one that made her belly fire up with warmth. If she had to describe it, it was something between pride and admiration, and it made her melt and fall in love with him all over again.

‘Actually, it was her legs,’ said Matteo.

Abby snorted and tapped him on the hand.

‘Seriously?’ asked Susanna, surprised.

Abby frowned; what did her mother mean? What was wrong with her legs?

‘I mean, she has lovely legs, bit like myself. But are you teasing me?’

‘It was in the hospital where I first