Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,52

go home. What do you do?’

‘I’d drink water.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘It was the only way.’

A group of white horses waded through the water up ahead, their tails flicking. The girls watched as the straggler suddenly ran to catch up with the rest, its coat catching in the sunlight.

‘They remind me of the horses in Andalucía,’ said Ellie. ‘So elegant.’

‘The dancing ones?’

‘Yes.’

‘When did you go there?’

Ellie pondered. ‘Can’t remember. It might have been twenty sixteen, after I learned to sail around the Greek islands. No, it was twenty seventeen. The same year I saw the Northern Lights in Lapland.’

‘You’ve done some travelling.’

‘I love it. I love being somewhere different, the sense of freedom.’ Ellie looked at her sister. ‘Is there nowhere you’ve yearned to go?’

Abby thought. ‘Do you remember . . . when we were little, we were supposed to go to Disneyland?’

Ellie nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’d never wanted anything more in my life. I would cry myself to sleep every night after it got cancelled.’

The horses suddenly galloped off in unison, a flock of white birds wheeling overhead, their cries intermingling with the splashing from the horses.

This sort of thing was priceless, thought Ellie, an experience that was worth more than money. Wasn’t it? She wondered exactly how much Abby had gained through her sacrifices. What value her sister had put on missing encounters like these.

‘How much are you worth?’ she asked.

Abby did a double take. ‘Pardon?’

‘Money. How much have you got? To the nearest fifty thousand,’ added Ellie, ‘to make it easier.’

‘I’m not telling you that!’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘That is true,’ said Ellie, ‘but what harm can it do to tell me? Is it really that big a secret? Personally, I think it might inspire me. Let me know what my big sister can achieve from nothing and maybe it’ll reform my spending habits.’

Abby pulled a face. As judgemental as ever, thought Ellie but she refused to buckle.

‘A hundred grand?’ she persisted, teasingly. It had to be more, surely.

‘I’m not having this conversation.’

‘Two? Three? Go on, you can say. Maybe even five. Five hundred thousand pounds. That should last a while, shouldn’t it? I don’t really know how it works – do you live off the interest? Then you wouldn’t need to spend any of it. You could keep going forever. What’s the interest on five hundred K? Maybe not so much. So is it more? Six? Se—’

‘Two million.’

‘What?’ Ellie’s mouth dropped open.

‘Two,’ said Abby. ‘Million,’ she repeated. ‘Seeing as you wanted to know.’

‘Two million pounds?’ Ellie closed her mouth. She was finding it hard to breathe, as if a great lump of rock had been placed on her chest. Two million was more than she would ever see over the course of her entire lifetime. She suddenly felt very small, very foolish.

‘It’s not that much,’ said Abby quickly. ‘Not compared to what some of my bosses were doing. And don’t even get me started on some of my City worker friends.’

Ellie gave a pained smile. ‘Sure. Not that much,’ she echoed.

‘I went without for years.’ Abby gave a small laugh. ‘Baked beans for weeks. And don’t forget it’s got to last me the rest of my life.’

Oh, poor you. Needing to stretch out two million pounds. However will you survive? Ellie thought bitterly, and then stopped herself. There was no point. And she’d asked for it by starting the conversation. Two million pounds! The amount kept reverberating through her brain, like a deranged wind-up toy spinning out of control. Two million pounds! Two million pounds! There were three of them in the car now: herself, Abby and, between them, a giant swag bag, large enough to suffocate her. She thought of her eighteen-thousand-pound credit card debt, a bill that she found impossible to pay off. Abby could make it disappear in a heartbeat.

Ellie stared out of the window again, seeing the salt marshes, the delicate flamingos. She thought of all those wonderful holidays she’d had that Abby had sacrificed. All those good times. The experiences, the memories. She still had those.

Suddenly they didn’t seem as special anymore.

THIRTY-SEVEN

1999

The new careers teacher was called Mr James. He’d only just started but was already immensely popular with both the girls and boys. He was young, much younger than the crusty old staff who’d been around so long they had a faded quality, like the desks in their classrooms which had spent too many years by the window being bleached by the sun. No, Mr James was good-looking and vibrant. He joked