Shopaholic and Sister
Page 91
There’s an ominous silence.
“You want to be like me?” she says at last. “I thought I was a ‘skinflint miserable cow.’ ”
Damn. I was hoping she might have forgotten about that.
“Er… I’m really sorry I said that,” I mutter, abashed. “I didn’t mean it.”
Jess isn’t looking convinced. Quickly I cast my mind back to the coaching session on the train. “Time has healed the wounds between us… ” I begin, reaching out for her hand.
“No, it hasn’t!” says Jess, pulling it away. “And you’ve got a bloody nerve coming here.”
“But I’m asking you to help me, as my sister!” I say desperately. “I want to learn from you! You’re Yoda, and I’m—”
“Yoda?” Jess’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“You don’t look like Yoda,” I add hastily. “Nothing like! I just meant—”
“Yeah, well, I’m not interested,” Jess interrupts. “In you, or your latest stupid idea. Just go away.”
She slams the front door shut, leaving me standing on the street. Jess has shut the door on me? Me, her own sister?
“But I’ve come all the way here from London!” I call through the door.
There’s no reply.
I refuse to give up. Not just like that.
“Jess!” I start hammering on the door. “You have to let me in! Please! I know we’ve had our differences—”
“Leave my door alone!” The door is wrenched open and Jess is standing there again. But this time she doesn’t just look hostile. She looks positively livid. “Becky, we haven’t just had our differences! We are different. I have no time for you. Frankly, I wish I’d never met you. And I have no idea what you’re doing here.”
“You don’t understand,” I say quickly, before she can slam the door again. “Everything’s gone wrong. Luke and I have argued. I… I did something stupid.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.” Jess folds her arms.
“I know I’ve brought it on myself.” My voice starts to tremble. “I know it’s my own fault. But I think our marriage is in real trouble. I really do.”
As I say the words, I can feel tears threatening again. I blink hard, trying to hold them off.
“Jess… please help me. You’re the only person I can think of. If I could learn from you, maybe Luke would come round. He likes you.” I feel a tightening in my throat, but force myself to look right at her. “He likes you better than he likes me.”
Jess shakes her head, but I can’t tell whether it’s because she doesn’t believe me or she doesn’t care.
“Go home,” she says flatly.
“But—”
“Don’t you understand English? Go home!” She waves her hand as though she’s shooing a dog.
“But… I’m your family!” My voice is starting to shake. “Family help each other! Family watch out for one another. Jess, I’m your sister—”
“Well, that’s not my fault,” says Jess curtly. “I never asked to be your sister. Bye, Becky.”
She slams the door shut again, so hard that I flinch. I lift my hand to knock again — but there’s no point, is there?
I’ve come all this way for nothing.
What do I do now? Slowly, I turn round and start trundling my suitcases back along the street.
The thought of going straight home again is unbearable. All those hours on the train — to what? An empty flat. An empty flat and no husband.
And at the thought of Luke, suddenly I can’t keep control of myself any longer. Tears start pouring down my cheeks and I can’t help but begin sobbing. As I reach the corner, a couple of women with prams look at me curiously, but I barely notice. I’m crying too hard. My makeup must have smeared everywhere… and I haven’t got a free hand to get a hankie, so I’m having to sniff… I need to stop. I need to sort myself out.
There’s a kind of village green to my left, with a wooden bench in the middle. I head for it, then drop my cases and sink down, my head in my hands, and give way to a stream of fresh tears.
Here I am, hundreds of miles away from home, all on my own and no one wants to know me. And it’s all my own fault. I’ve ruined everything.
And Luke will never love me again.
I have a sudden vision of me moving out. Packing up my shoes. Luke telling me he wants to keep the Indonesian gamelan…
Dimly I hear a man’s voice above my head. “Now, now. What’s all this?”
“You want to be like me?” she says at last. “I thought I was a ‘skinflint miserable cow.’ ”
Damn. I was hoping she might have forgotten about that.
“Er… I’m really sorry I said that,” I mutter, abashed. “I didn’t mean it.”
Jess isn’t looking convinced. Quickly I cast my mind back to the coaching session on the train. “Time has healed the wounds between us… ” I begin, reaching out for her hand.
“No, it hasn’t!” says Jess, pulling it away. “And you’ve got a bloody nerve coming here.”
“But I’m asking you to help me, as my sister!” I say desperately. “I want to learn from you! You’re Yoda, and I’m—”
“Yoda?” Jess’s eyes widen in disbelief.
“You don’t look like Yoda,” I add hastily. “Nothing like! I just meant—”
“Yeah, well, I’m not interested,” Jess interrupts. “In you, or your latest stupid idea. Just go away.”
She slams the front door shut, leaving me standing on the street. Jess has shut the door on me? Me, her own sister?
“But I’ve come all the way here from London!” I call through the door.
There’s no reply.
I refuse to give up. Not just like that.
“Jess!” I start hammering on the door. “You have to let me in! Please! I know we’ve had our differences—”
“Leave my door alone!” The door is wrenched open and Jess is standing there again. But this time she doesn’t just look hostile. She looks positively livid. “Becky, we haven’t just had our differences! We are different. I have no time for you. Frankly, I wish I’d never met you. And I have no idea what you’re doing here.”
“You don’t understand,” I say quickly, before she can slam the door again. “Everything’s gone wrong. Luke and I have argued. I… I did something stupid.”
“Well, there’s a surprise.” Jess folds her arms.
“I know I’ve brought it on myself.” My voice starts to tremble. “I know it’s my own fault. But I think our marriage is in real trouble. I really do.”
As I say the words, I can feel tears threatening again. I blink hard, trying to hold them off.
“Jess… please help me. You’re the only person I can think of. If I could learn from you, maybe Luke would come round. He likes you.” I feel a tightening in my throat, but force myself to look right at her. “He likes you better than he likes me.”
Jess shakes her head, but I can’t tell whether it’s because she doesn’t believe me or she doesn’t care.
“Go home,” she says flatly.
“But—”
“Don’t you understand English? Go home!” She waves her hand as though she’s shooing a dog.
“But… I’m your family!” My voice is starting to shake. “Family help each other! Family watch out for one another. Jess, I’m your sister—”
“Well, that’s not my fault,” says Jess curtly. “I never asked to be your sister. Bye, Becky.”
She slams the door shut again, so hard that I flinch. I lift my hand to knock again — but there’s no point, is there?
I’ve come all this way for nothing.
What do I do now? Slowly, I turn round and start trundling my suitcases back along the street.
The thought of going straight home again is unbearable. All those hours on the train — to what? An empty flat. An empty flat and no husband.
And at the thought of Luke, suddenly I can’t keep control of myself any longer. Tears start pouring down my cheeks and I can’t help but begin sobbing. As I reach the corner, a couple of women with prams look at me curiously, but I barely notice. I’m crying too hard. My makeup must have smeared everywhere… and I haven’t got a free hand to get a hankie, so I’m having to sniff… I need to stop. I need to sort myself out.
There’s a kind of village green to my left, with a wooden bench in the middle. I head for it, then drop my cases and sink down, my head in my hands, and give way to a stream of fresh tears.
Here I am, hundreds of miles away from home, all on my own and no one wants to know me. And it’s all my own fault. I’ve ruined everything.
And Luke will never love me again.
I have a sudden vision of me moving out. Packing up my shoes. Luke telling me he wants to keep the Indonesian gamelan…
Dimly I hear a man’s voice above my head. “Now, now. What’s all this?”
