Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,94

and had spoken to Susanna on several occasions. It was all such a mess and for the first time in ages she was feeling completely relaxed. She didn’t want to ruin the moment. She felt herself dozing and made a conscious effort to sit up and open her eyes. It wasn’t fair to sleep when Abby was driving all the time.

She looked across at her sister and smiled. There was something uniquely bonding about them both being in the same clothes. It united them, made them a team. Except it wasn’t that, not really, Ellie knew.

It was the last few days. What they had been through. She thought back to her mother’s warnings but couldn’t connect the Abby her mum was talking about with the one sitting here in the same blue dress as her own.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ she started tentatively, ‘when all this is over, maybe we could spend more time together?’

Abby glanced across. ‘What, in a jail somewhere? Cellmates?’

The smile slid off Ellie’s face. Trust Abby to ruin it. Or was she just avoiding answering the question?

‘You don’t seriously think that’s how this is going to end, do you?’

‘Might,’ said Abby. She looked back to the road. ‘We’re coming to a junction.’

Ellie glanced down at the map. ‘You do realize we’re running out of road.’

‘Are we?’

‘Only a hundred or so miles and then we fall into the sea.’

‘What?’

‘Well, would you look at that . . .’ exclaimed Ellie, as she stared at the map. ‘If you don’t go while alive, you must go after death.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘That’s the saying,’ said Ellie. ‘At the Vixía Herbeira cliffs. Some of the tallest in Europe. If you don’t visit while you’re alive, then after your death you’ll be reincarnated as one of the animals that inhabit the area.’

‘We’d best go then,’ said Abby. ‘I do not have plans to return to this earth as a rabbit.’ She saw a sign up ahead: five kilometres to the next village. ‘First, shall we stop for a bit of lunch?’

SEVENTY

‘OK,’ said Susanna. ‘I did it.’

Kathleen slowly put her drink down. ‘What did you do?’ she asked.

‘I gave salt to Ben, paracetamol to Ellie. I made them ill.’

‘Why did you do that?’

Susanna frowned. ‘Everything was crumbling. You’d disowned me. Danny was having an affair. I . . . needed to feel I had worth. I enjoyed making them better. Looking after them.’ She paused. ‘I was ill myself.’

Kathleen nodded but said nothing. Seconds ticked by.

Susanna grew agitated. ‘Well?’ she eventually burst out.

‘Yes?’

‘You’ve got your confession. Aren’t you going to say something?’

Kathleen closed her eyes. ‘You want me to congratulate you?’

‘No . . . I . . .’ Susanna felt her grasp on the situation slipping.

‘Write you a cheque?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘So I had a hand in the death of my grandson,’ said Kathleen. ‘At least that’s what you told me.’

‘Because it’s true!’

Kathleen opened one eye. ‘Is it? Only, the correct thing to say would’ve been, “I did it but I don’t want your money.” Then I could have given it to you. But now’ – she shrugged – ‘I don’t even know if you made it all up just because of greed. After all, it’s not the first time you’ve sold your soul for money, is it? I’m disappointed,’ she said flatly.

Susanna stared at her mother, steely-eyed. She barked out a laugh. ‘Disappointed,’ she repeated. ‘Well, guess what? It goes two ways. Except I’m not disappointed in you, I’m disgusted.’

‘You watch your mouth.’

‘I cannot believe you are using the death of my son as a bargaining chip. Actually, I think I knew all along what you’re capable of. I allowed myself to go along with this charade to prove to myself just how manipulative you are. Well, thank you, Mother, for showing me yet again that I should have nothing more to do with you.’

Susanna got up from the table.

‘Sit back down. I haven’t finished,’ said Kathleen.

‘We’re done, Mother.’

‘We are not. So, are you lying to get the money or not?’

Susanna looked back at her aged mother and knew it would be the last time she ever saw her.

‘You’ll never know,’ she said, and turned and walked away.

SEVENTY-ONE

Ellie and Abby had feasted hungrily on the tapas laid out before them at a small restaurant in a tiny village lost in the north-western Spanish countryside. It was quiet and there had only been a couple of locals still remaining – elderly people sitting out the front with a coffee, idly chatting away to