Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,3
than that she’d finally sort out that dinner invitation Ellie had sent all those weeks ago. She felt a pang of shame then at having overlooked it for so long, but now was the time to make amends.
Abby nervously made her way back up the front path and let herself in. Christmas music was playing loudly from the kitchen. She hung up her coat and put her boots to dry next to the radiator. She took a deep breath and, before her resolve left her, went to join them.
Her mother and Ellie were huddled together at the table with their backs to her, poring enthusiastically over Ellie’s laptop. Neither seemed to hear her come in. Abby was about to announce her arrival when she caught a glimpse of the image on the screen – a beach somewhere.
Suddenly they realized she was there and Susanna guiltily minimized the tab.
‘What’s that?’ asked Abby, furious that her voice sounded so small and hurt.
‘We were just looking at places to go,’ stumbled Susanna. She gave a big smile. ‘Nice walk?’
‘Go?’ repeated Abby.
Ellie looked awkward. ‘Mum and I were thinking about a couple of days away somewhere. You know, a European break.’
‘Oh yes? When?’
‘Um . . . probably March time, escape the cold. We were, er . . .’ Ellie looked at Susanna. ‘We were going to ask you to come but thought you were probably busy. You know, with work. But you’re more than welcome to join us,’ she added brightly.
Except Abby knew she wasn’t. In fact, if she hadn’t walked in on them at that exact moment, she would have known nothing about it.
‘I’ll check my diary,’ she lied, ‘but I do think March is quite full . . . a new contract we’re negotiating.’
Ellie smiled. ‘You see, always working. You should take a break every now and then.’
‘You’re right,’ said Abby. Suddenly she thought she was going to burst into tears. It shocked her. She made some excuse and went into the living room where she made a gargantuan effort not to cry. It was too shameful, too weak. She couldn’t let them see how upset she was.
Ellie and Mum. Mum and Ellie. That was how it had always been. It was lonely being the third wheel of the family. What had her sister got that had made their mother fall in love with her, right from as early as Abby could remember? Abby knew that whenever Ellie walked in the door, her mother’s face lit up like the golden star on top of the Christmas tree, and no matter how long she lived, nor what she did, Abby knew she would never, ever have that same impact.
She got through the rest of the day as best she could and left early the next morning. As she sat on the train home, she realized she hadn’t sorted the dinner date with Ellie.
ONE
Nineteen months later
As the taxi climbed into the wooded hills just outside Portoferraio, Ellie stared out of the window, wrestling with what she could see. This Italian jewel of an island – still green even though it was nearly the end of July, where she could glimpse the glittering Tyrrhenian Sea through palms and pines – this was where she would be spending the next six weeks in a rare break from her relentlessly demanding job as a teaching assistant for rowdy adolescents. A job that had morphed into actually taking the responsibility for teaching them, as the usual staff member had been signed off indefinitely with stress. This place was a paradise and would be a balm to soothe her overburdened mind and soul, six weeks of utter escapism, if only one thing wasn’t bugging her: this was where her sister now spent the entire fifty-two weeks of her year. Because Abby had moved to the island of Elba, just off the coast of Tuscany, three months ago. She had, in fact, retired here.
Retired. Just thinking the word made Ellie’s insides ripple with resentment. Abby could now live her life as she chose, never work again, frolic in the sunshine – what was it she said she’d recently taken up? Paddle-boarding, that was it. She could drift carefree across that sparkling sea for the next forty-odd years if she so wanted because Abby had achieved something remarkable: she had retired at the age of thirty-six.
Ellie would be thirty-six herself in three years’ time but the notion of retirement made her laugh out loud – bitterly and with a sense that