"Becky?"
I smiled as I finished wiping toast crumbs away from the kitchen counter tops, hearing the slight wheedling tone to my sister's voice. "Yes?"
"Could you bring me another cup of tea? Ple-
ease
?"
"Oh, I don't know. That's going to cost you."
"How much?"
I grinned, already pouring water from the freshly boiled kettle into Sarah's mug. "Oh, I don't know. Let me think," I called back, adding just a dash of milk and immediately fishing out the tea bag. "Gnat's pee," I muttered to no one in particular, looking at the colour of the liquid with distaste. But that was exactly how Sarah liked it. I scooped up the mug and carried it into the lounge, setting it down on the coffee table in front of her. "I know. How about you give me your first born child?"
"Ha ha." Sarah gave a groan as she struggled to sit upright, her massive belly swaying with the effort. "You can have it, okay? You can have it right now if you like. Even better, you can give birth to it."
"Hmm." I acted as though I was genuinely considering her offer for a few seconds then shook my head. "Tempting but no. You got yourself into this mess--you can get yourself out of it."
"Thanks a lot." Sarah grimaced at me as I collapsed into the armchair opposite hers. "You just wait until this happens to you. I'll have no sympathy at all."
"Hey!" I pretended to be offended. "I've made you three cups of tea and two slices of toast since I've been here--and I've only been here an hour. If that's not sympathy, I don't know what is."
"I'm just getting you into practice for when Mum comes home tomorrow," Sarah said, smiling sweetly now. "If you think
I'm
demanding on the tea front..." There was no need to finish the sentence. We both knew Mum could drink tea until it came out of her ears.
"I still can't believe she's actually coming home," I said, settling back in my chair and tipping my head to look up at the ceiling. "When I think about how ill she was..."
"I know." I heard Sarah breathe a sigh. "She's done amazingly well."
That first night in the hospital had been the worst. We'd taken it in turns to sit quietly by her bed, none of us knowing quite what to say, how to react; afraid to hope for the best in case the worst happened. I'd spent half my time willing her to cling to life, the other half praying that if the end had to come, that it would come swiftly, so she wouldn't have to suffer any more.
Then, almost as quickly as she'd become ill, she'd begun to get well. By Sunday evening, much of the colour was back in her cheeks, the light back in her eyes. On Wednesday she'd been moved out of the Coronary Care Unit to one of the general medical wards, but the investigations had continued, much to my mother's disgust. X-rays, ECGs, various scans--I hadn't been able to keep track of them all. And although there were still a few more tests to be carried out, the cardiologist told us he was optimistic that the damage to her heart wasn't permanent.
"So when are you going to tell her?"
Startled, I lowered my gaze. "Tell her what?"
Sarah lifted her mug to her lips and took a sip, her eyes remaining steady on mine. "That you and Daniel aren't getting back together."
I looked at her, uncertain whether she was merely fishing. "Wh-what?"
"Come on, Becky. I'm pregnant and my brain's a bit pickled, but you don't really think I'm
that
stupid, do you?"
"I--I don't know what you mean." Ridiculously, my heart started to beat a little faster. "It's going to take a little while for Daniel and me to get over what happened, of course--but we'll get there."
"Really?" Sarah raised her eyebrows. "And just who, exactly, are you trying to convince?"
I stared at her open-mouthed, wondering how on earth she'd guessed at my inner turmoil. I'd tried so hard to bury my feelings, hiding them behind the smile I kept plastered to my face during the day, only allowing myself to examine them when alone in bed at night . "It'll be okay," I muttered at last. "You know--" I went on hastily, starting to push myself to my feet "--I think I'll go and get myself a cuppa. I didn't think I wanted one, but maybe I do after all--"
"Sit down!" Sarah interrupted, fixing me with a glare. "Don't you dare make me get up. Have you any idea how hard it is right now? I need a bloody crane.
Sit down
."
I sat. I'd already learned not to argue with a pregnant sister.
"I want the truth. No bullshit, do you understand?"
I swallowed. "Uh oh."
"Uh oh, indeed." Sarah looked grim. "What the hell's going on in your head? Are you seriously trying to tell me you're going to throw your life away on a tosser like Daniel?"
Tosser.
Tosser Foster
... I closed my eyes briefly, trying hard to push away the memories of Luke. "He's not a tosser."
"Oh really?" She shook her head. "Becky, you know I liked him--I used to think he was great, just like everyone else. But you can't get away from the fact he cheated on you."
"He knows he made a mistake."
"A mistake?" The disbelief was evident in Sarah's face. "My God. That's the understatement of the decade."
"But he says it's over. He says he still loves me." Even as I said the words, I knew how pathetic they sounded.
"Oh right. Well that's okay then." She rolled her eyes. "And you've talked everything through, yes? Had a long, in-depth discussion about why it happened in the first place, what he'll do if he ever gets tempted to do it again? And you've told him that he ever does do it again, you'll chop off his balls with a rusty spoon?"
I didn't reply. But I guessed she already knew I wouldn't be able to.
"You've not talked things over at all, have you?" she said, her tone much gentler now.
"There--there hasn't been time," I said, feeling rather feeble. "To start with--well, you know what it was like--I couldn't think about anything other than Mum. And of course, he's been at the flat while I've been staying at Mum's." It'd seemed pointless to force him to move out. As I planned to stay on at Mum's house for as long as she needed me, I'd told Daniel he might as well carry on living there for now. "We haven't really had a chance to talk."
"Bullshit. You don't
want
to talk to him."
"Sarah--"
"You've had plenty of chances to talk to him. You see him every day at the hospital for a start."
"I can't talk to him there! Mum loves seeing him, you know that. She really brightens up when he's there."
"Yes I know she does. As far as she's concerned, the sun shines out of his backside. And you know why. To her, he's the son she never had--the son she always wanted. We've heard her say it a thousand times. But Becky, you can't forgive him just because she can't let him go."