Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,80

was she sitting next to? No, she should be grateful. Goddammit, she was grateful. If it hadn’t been for Abby, they’d both be dead.

‘How did you do that?’ Ellie asked quietly.

‘Do what?’

‘You were so brave. So quick. You got the gun.’

Abby gave a small smile.

‘He could have killed you. Both of us. I couldn’t do anything,’ Ellie said.

‘He did have a knife to your throat.’

‘I know, but even so . . . I was numb. Petrified.’

‘I was pretty scared myself.’

‘Yes, but you still did it. You didn’t give up.’

‘It was chance. I saw your bag in the footwell. I just went for it.’

‘I’d all but given up, Abby,’ insisted Ellie. ‘But you . . . you fought back.’

Abby pondered. ‘I did, didn’t I?’ She paused for a moment as it sank in. ‘Oh my God, I fought back. I fought back!’

Abby was punching the steering wheel as she spoke, her eyes suddenly alive on adrenaline. ‘I bloody fought him. And I won! I won!’ She let out a whoop, then threw her head back in a victorious laugh. ‘Oh my God, Ellie, you’re right. I fought back.’

Ellie gave a nervous smile. Her sister’s behaviour was a little unnerving. She’d never seen Abby quite so . . . animated before.

‘You stood up to him,’ she agreed.

Abby grinned. ‘I did. I stood up to you, you nasty bastard!’ she shouted. ‘I didn’t let you beat me!’

Ellie yelped as the car suddenly swerved across to the other side of the empty road, then back again. Abby was driving like a maniac, back and forth, whooping and yelling.

‘Stop,’ said Ellie, gripping the dashboard. ‘Please stop.’

Abby hardly seemed to be listening. ‘I fought back,’ she yelled again and then was suddenly weeping, huge wracking sobs convulsing through her body.

‘Abby?’ said Ellie in alarm. The car was veering uncontrollably. ‘Pull over.’

To Ellie’s relief, Abby steered the car back to the right side of the road and slowed until they’d stopped. Tears were still pouring down her face and she was trying to wipe them away but it was as if a dam had broken.

At a loss, Ellie picked up her handbag, rummaged inside. ‘Here,’ she said, pulling out a tissue and handing it to her sister. ‘It’s scented. Rose and sandalwood,’ Ellie said apologetically, expecting another reprimand about frivolous spending, but Abby just blew her nose.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Ellie, once Abby had quietened.

‘Last year,’ said Abby, ‘when I was mugged, in Florence . . . it was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me. Not because he stole my bag or my phone, or even because I got stabbed. The worst thing was that they stole who I was. Brave, independent Abby.’ She turned to look at Ellie, her voice breaking. ‘I did nothing when they attacked me. Just lay there. I was too pathetic to even shout out.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t—’

‘It has stayed with me ever since. I knew that if anyone decided they wanted something from me, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. I was a free target. Come and get it. She won’t fight back. Take what you want.’ Abby wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Until tonight.’

Ellie was quiet. Then she squeezed her sister’s arm. They sat there for a while in a pensive silence, looking out at the dark road while the moths flitted in the car headlights.

‘Is that why you brought the gun?’ asked Ellie. ‘Because of what happened to you in Florence?’

‘Yeah . . . I think so. It was instinct, you know? I just picked it up out of the safe.’

Ellie nodded. ‘And there was me thinking you’d brought it to do away with me,’ she said lightly. She looked across at her sister. ‘I wish you’d told me before. About the mugging. How it affected you.’

Abby shrugged.

‘Did you tell Mum?’

‘Course not,’ said Abby. ‘I just told her the bare minimum. Played it down.’

‘But why? She’s your mother.’

Abby turned patiently to Ellie. ‘She and I didn’t have that kind of relationship. Not like you.’

‘But . . . something big like that . . .’

‘No, Ellie. We didn’t talk.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Ellie. ‘It must have been lonely.’ She thought of all the times she’d called up her mother to whinge, offload or just have a friendly ear. ‘She was a good listener.’

‘I could see that. You two were always close.’

‘I’d tell her everything. I’d call just to moan about the fact someone had queue-jumped me in the supermarket.’

‘Seriously? God, I feel