Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,51

moved to the bureau at the side of the room, opened the doors. He rummaged through folders, carefully indexed, papers meticulously filed, and then underneath them all, he found a small grey book: an address book. He flicked through, the names meaning nothing. People from Abby’s life before he met her.

Then at ‘G’, his finger stopped. Abby had made an entry: Grandma. Next to it was an address – and a phone number.

THIRTY-SIX

Ellie went over and over it again in her head. She stared out the window as they drove through the French countryside, trying to make sense of her mother’s stark warning. She scoured her memory for recollections of childhood that might throw some light on what Abby was supposed to have done. Had her sister had access to her food? Had she insisted Ellie eat something? But Ellie couldn’t remember. It seemed one of them had hurt her, though, and she wasn’t sure which of the two was easier to stomach: her mother, who was currently several hundred miles away, or Abby, next to her in the car.

Ellie didn’t know if she should be afraid or not. And then suddenly, exhausted by the uncertainty, she let out a hysterical bark of laughter. Surely Abby wasn’t about to do away with her in broad daylight? Careful, risk-averse Abby? It didn’t seem possible. Whatever her mother claimed.

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Abby.

Ellie tried to get a grip on her mania. ‘Nothing.’ She saw Abby look over at her oddly. Ellie was certain Abby was about to question her further, and she was desperately trying to think of ways to change the subject when the French landscape did just that for her.

‘It’s more beautiful than I even imagined it would be,’ she gasped. The fields had morphed into wet plains that were criss-crossed with reeds of the palest green. On either side of the road were vast swathes of rippling shallow water that held on to the reflections of the clouds.

‘What is this place?’ asked Abby, looking around in awe.

‘It’s the Camargue,’ said Ellie and then both girls saw a flamboyance of pink flamingos, some wading, some resting on a wide sandbank.

‘Oh my God, look!’ said Abby, eyes wide as she stared across the lagoon at the birds. She was so enraptured, Ellie couldn’t help but smile.

‘Anyone would think you hadn’t been away before,’ she said.

‘Well, I haven’t. Not really.’

‘You live in Elba.’

‘I know. And I went to Florence. But that’s about it.’

Ellie frowned. ‘That can’t be right. What about all those work trips? Mum used to say you went to the Middle East a lot – Doha, Dubai. And Hong Kong . . . I’m sure she mentioned Hong Kong.’

‘Yeah, I did. But as you say, that was work.’

‘But surely you explored?’

‘Not really. A plane, an airport, a conference room and a hotel. Then straight home again.’

Ellie still didn’t understand. ‘But what about holidays? You had holidays, right?’

‘I got twenty-five days’ leave a year.’

‘And?’

‘I sold them.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Back to the company. They had a scheme where you could sell most of your leave if you wanted. So I did and then I invested the money.’

Ellie was staring at Abby, mouth agape. ‘You voluntarily gave your leave back to the company so you could work even longer?’

‘It was a good deal.’

‘Didn’t you ever feel as if . . .’

‘What?’

‘You were missing out?’

‘On holidays?’

‘On life!’ exclaimed Ellie. ‘All those places to explore and people to meet. All those adventures you’ve never had.’

Abby bristled. ‘I did OK, thanks. Not everyone can say they’ve retired in their thirties.’

‘No, they can’t,’ murmured Ellie. ‘So, what made you want to?’

Abby was silent for a moment. ‘It was always about feeling safe. I never felt Mum had my back in the way she had yours. I wanted to set myself up for life, then I could go and enjoy it.’

‘And are you?’

‘What?’

‘You know. Enjoying it.’

‘Course!’

‘That didn’t sound very convincing.’

‘It’s just getting used to another lifestyle, that’s all. There’s lots of time to fill.’

‘Whereas before you had no time. Did you ever go out? You know, an evening’s entertainment?’

‘Course I did!’

‘You’d allow yourself to spend money on drinks?’

Abby rolled her eyes. ‘It’s very simple. You stick to a budget.’

‘Hmm,’ said Ellie. ‘Let me paint you a picture. You’re in a bar, having a great time with your friends. You’ve all done equal rounds, right, fair and square? As I can’t imagine that not happening. It’s only nine o’clock and the budget is spent. It’s your round again. You don’t want to