Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,34

wrenched the car into gear and, just as the door began to open, she pulled away in a cloud of dust.

TWENTY-FIVE

‘What else did they say?’ asked Ellie. She looked anxiously over at the speedometer and wished Abby would slow down a bit.

‘I didn’t hear anything else. Just that we had gone missing and the police wanted to talk to us urgently.’

‘Do you think the guy back there, at the pensione, do you think he heard the news?’

‘If he hadn’t, it’s only a matter of time.’

Ellie stretched out her right leg; it still felt numb from the day before and she rubbed the muscles in her thigh.

‘You OK?’ asked Abby, glancing across.

‘Just a bit sore. Must be from the accident,’ Ellie said briefly, before changing the subject. ‘Where are we going?’

‘Don’t know,’ admitted Abby.

‘You do realize we’ve run again?’

Abby bit her lip. ‘Yeah.’

‘Makes me look even more guilty.’

‘You think we should’ve stayed? Handed ourselves in?’

‘Not “ourselves”. Me. I’m the one who pushed her.’

‘I drove the car. I’m an accessory.’

Ellie looked across at her sister. ‘Funny, isn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘All those years I wanted to spend time with you and you wouldn’t let me. Now look at us.’

‘Yeah, well, you were annoying,’ said Abby.

‘I was not!’

‘Were to me. You couldn’t do a thing wrong. Mum only ever cared about you and your needs.’

‘I was ill,’ said Ellie. ‘As you well knew,’ she added tartly. She looked over at Abby, who was making a point of concentrating on the road. Probably avoiding the conversation, Ellie thought. Well, I want to have it.

‘I always felt guilty, you know. That Mum seemed to . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘Prefer me. I used to feel sorry for you but at the same time I loved her attention. Loved her.’ She shook her head. ‘So screwed up.’

‘Yes. But not you.’

‘So how much did you hate me?’ asked Ellie.

‘It wasn’t like that,’ said Abby, not altogether convincingly.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. ‘Come on, I want to know.’

‘No, you don’t.’

‘Let’s have it out. Here. Clear the air. It’s been hanging over us for, what . . . twenty-eight years?’

They were approaching a small village and Abby slowed the car. ‘I think we should get some food,’ she said as they passed a bakery. She turned into a side road and parked up. Without waiting for Ellie, she got out of the car.

Ellie exhaled, exasperated. She waited, drumming her fingers on the dashboard until Abby came back around the corner, hands clutching full paper bags and a bottle of water under each arm.

‘Here,’ said Abby, handing over one of the bags.

The smell coming from inside was intoxicating, but Ellie snatched both bags from Abby and held them out of reach.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Not until you tell me.’

Abby laughed, unsure. ‘Are you serious?’

Ellie moved the bags even further away.

‘OK . . .’ said Abby. ‘Well, sometimes I used to pretend the milk you were pouring on your cornflakes was bleach. Then you’d die and be out of the way and Mum would finally pay me some attention.’

Ellie’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh my God. That’s horrific.’

‘I was young. Eight.’

‘You wanted me dead?’

‘Don’t all children wish their siblings dead at one point or another?’

‘No!’

‘Course they do. You just don’t remember.’

Abby wiggled her fingers and, still stunned, Ellie wordlessly handed over the paper bag of food.

‘That’s the wrong one, said Abby. ‘That’s yours.’

‘Oh,’ Ellie said, and handed Abby the other bag.

As Abby started the car, she looked over. ‘Come on,’ she insisted, ‘you should eat.’

Ellie looked into her own bag. She realized she was starving and, as they drove away, she pulled out the pastry and took a big bite.

TWENTY-SIX

1991

Abby dragged her feet as she followed Oscar’s mum down the street. She didn’t like it when other people picked her up from school, and she especially didn’t like Oscar’s mum because she was mean to her dog. She looked at the dog now, at it stopping to do a wee on the pavement, and Oscar’s mum was yanking its lead, telling it to ‘bloody hurry up’, and the poor dog was practically choking, still trying to get its wee out.

Oscar’s mum must have seen her look of disapproval because she glared at her and Abby’s eyes fell to the ground. Oscar was running on ahead, pretending to shoot at the cars as they drove by. Abby felt angry with him, at the way how he was completely oblivious to how his mother was treating his pet. She briefly wondered about faking a sprained ankle or something, just to buy the