The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,105

we ended up moving to LA. Then I had the kids, and then they left home and . . .’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘That’s the story.’

‘So you got a degree in law?’

‘Oh yes, but I never did get to practise.’

‘Maybe you should think about it. As you say, all your kids have left now.’

‘Oh Electra, I’m not far off fifty! It’s too late for me now.’

‘But you’re so clever, Lizzie. You shouldn’t let your brain go to waste. That’s what my father always said to me.’

‘Did he?’

‘Yeah. I know he thought I was selling out when I became a model.’

‘Electra, you were only sixteen! From what you’ve told me, you didn’t choose modelling, it chose you, and before you knew it, you were on a rollercoaster that you couldn’t get off. Goodness, just twenty-six now – only a year older than my eldest, and he’s still in med school.’

‘At least he knew what he wanted to do. I’ve never known.’

‘Well, whatever it is, you have the luxury of choice. And someone with your profile could really make a difference.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, being an ambassador for those who don’t have a voice. Like Vanessa, for example. You’ve experienced first-hand what drugs can do. You could help.’

‘Maybe,’ I shrugged. ‘But models don’t have voices or brains, do they?’

‘Now you’re being self-indulgent and if you were Rosie, my daughter, I’d give you a good telling-off. It’s obvious to me – and to your pa – that you are very bright indeed. You have all the tools necessary, so use them. I mean, look at what you’ve drawn during our conversation just now,’ she said, pointing to my sketchbook as I cradled it protectively against my chest. ‘You’re so talented, Electra. I’d buy that jacket in a heartbeat.’

I looked down at my sketch of a model in a cropped leather jacket and asymmetrical dress.

‘Yeah, whatever,’ I said. ‘I think I need some sleep now, Lizzie. Goodnight.’ I reached over to turn off my lamp.

‘Goodnight,’ Lizzie said as she opened the book she was reading about how diets could make you fat. I snuggled down under the duvet and turned over.

‘Oh, just one more thing,’ she said.

‘Yup?’

‘It takes strength to admit you’ve got a problem, Electra. It is not a sign of weakness – quite the opposite. Goodnight.’

I woke up naturally with the sunrise the following day, which was a sensation that was new to me – for years I’d had to drag myself out of bed, take a handful of painkillers and uppers to stem the headache and give me a lift. I’d discussed my sunrise wakings in group therapy (it was something innocuous to make me look like I was briefly engaged without giving anything away) and a number of people had told me it was the natural rhythm of my body clock returning after years of being suppressed by booze and drugs. And now I came to think of it, I remembered that I had always been the first to wake as a child at Atlantis. I’d be bouncing around, full of energy, while all my sisters slept on, so I’d creep downstairs to the kitchen where Claudia was the only other soul up in the house. She’d give me a slice of her newly baked bread, still warm from the oven and dripping with butter and honey, while I waited impatiently for the rest of my siblings to wake up.

I put on a pair of shorts, laced up my sneakers and set off for a run. Nobody was around, other than the group of Buddhists who sat in the Serenity Garden with their legs crossed and eyes closed, welcoming in the new day. I reached the nature trail and as my feet pounded the red soil beneath them, I thought about Lizzie and our conversation last night. And the fact that it wasn’t a sign of weakness to admit you needed help. Well, I’d gotten this far – I was here, getting the help I needed, wasn’t I? Ironically, the easy bit (comparatively anyway) had been coming off all that shit I’d been taking. As my doctor, then Fi had explained to me, I’d been caught in time, when many others weren’t. If I stayed clean from now on, I’d have made no dent on my long-term health, unlike Vanessa.

The hard bit was confronting myself, which would explain the why of my substance abuse. It wasn’t good enough just to say I’d stop taking alcohol and drugs – it had