Page 88 of The Half Sister

Guilt engulfs Lauren as she goes back up the stairs, her fingers trailing the chipped paint as she goes. Whilst Simon’s out there, working through the night, she’s getting ready to go and meet another man. Yes, he’s chauvinistic, moody and sometimes loses his temper, but is it any surprise? She’s on his case 24/7; asking him to fix the shower, put the kitchen door on, paint the staircase. Why isn’tshepainting the staircase instead of nagging her husband, who’s busy trying to earn enough money to look after his family?

She’s doing her utmost to convince herself that Simon deserves better, but for every reason that goes in his favour, she can think of two that don’t. Whilst they struggle to pay the bills, he could make it a lot easier if he didn’t go down the pub most nights and visit the bookies every Saturday. And on the rare occasion he takes her out, it would be nice if he talked to her, instead of looking at his phone or accusing her of flirting with the waiter.

Her only heeled shoes sit next to her slippers at the bottom of her wardrobe, seemingly offering Lauren a symbolic choice between doing what’s right or what’s wrong. It doesn’t take her long to pick the pair she wants to wear.

‘Okay, so Noah and Emmy are in bed and should be asleep,’ she says, as she carefully makes her way back down the narrow stairs in feet adorned with black patent. ‘It’s unlikely they’ll wake up, but if they do it will only be for the toilet or a drink.’

Jess nods confidently. ‘And Jude?’

Lauren looks at him, gurgling away contentedly in front of a colourful mobile on the living room floor. ‘There’s a bottle in the fridge, which he’s due to have at ten, but I’m sure I’ll be home by then.’

Jess looks at her watch. ‘It’s almost eight now,’ she says. ‘At this rate you’ll be coming home before you’ve even gone out.’

Lauren smiles as she walks away from Jess and into the kitchen, surreptitiously sweeping up the mug that holds the paltry housekeeping money that Simon deems to give her every week. She puts the forty pounds into her pocket and tucks the laptop she shares with Simon under her arm. She’d rather take it with her than run the risk of Jess and her boyfriend using it to their advantage.

‘Are you sure you’re okay to do this?’ asks Lauren as she walks back into the living room.

‘I’m actually incredibly flattered that you’ve asked,’ says Jess. ‘And anyways –’ she scuffs the floor with her feet whilst Lauren looks at her expectantly – ‘This is what sisters are for.’

The words slice through Lauren’s psyche, an image of Kate infiltrating her brain. Jess is right, thisiswhat sisters are for, so why isn’t hers here for her now? Lauren should be able to call on Kate to help with the children, but ever since little Noah came along, she feels that her relationship with Kate has paid the price. With every child that Lauren has been blessed with, she’s felt that Kate has removed herself step by step, and now with Jess turning up, Lauren wonders if they’ll ever be how they used to be again.

Lauren pulls Jess into her, hugging her tight. ‘I’m so pleased I’ve gotyou,’ she says, her eyes shining.

‘And I’m pleased I’ve got you,’ says Jess.

‘Ring me if you need me,’ calls out Lauren as she gets in the car.

‘Will do,’ smiles Jess. ‘Have a good time.’

Lauren watches the front door close with conflicted emotions. How had she deemed it necessary to safeguard her laptop by bringing it with her, whilst leaving the children – her most treasured possessions – there?

She shudders involuntarily as she pulls away, still thinking about Kate and how they might possibly begin to repair their fractured relationship. If she ever finds out about what she’s doing now, she’llneverbe forgiven. There’s no love lost between her husband and her sister, but Kate believes in the sanctity of marriage, and is happy to call out anyone who dares to cross the holy line. You only have to look at the headlines attached to her byline every day to know that she doesn’t suffer cheaters gladly.

‘But I’m not going to cheat,’ says Lauren to herself, as she pulls up in a road parallel to where Justin lives.

You’ll not be able to park in Butler’s Wharf itself, so just get as close to it as you can and walk the rest, Justin’s last text had read. Lauren chooses not to recall his sign-off:I can’t wait to see you x

Her heels don’t lend themselves to the cobbled passageways of Shad Thames and she almost loses her footing as she passes under the arches of the old spice mills. She stops momentarily to lean on a wall, though she’s not sure if it’s a bid to slow down her feet or her heart. By the time she reaches Justin’s door, with its twenty or so shiny intercom buttons, her mouth is dry and she’s wishing she hadn’t come. No part of this seems like a good idea right now. Her finger shakes as she trails the numbers, looking for number twelve.

‘Hi, it’s me,’ she says.

‘Come on up,’ says Justin. ‘It’s the top floor.’

Okay, so you just knock on his door, she says to herself as the lift travels up.And you say, ‘It was lovely to bump into you again, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other anymore.’

She smooths down the front of her jumpsuit and swallows the lump in her throat.Got it?she asks herself, just to double-check.Got it, comes the convincing reply.

‘Hi,’ says Justin as the lift doors open, and her legs immediately turn to jelly. His dancing eyes meet hers and the jolt sends a quiver through her. He brushes her cheek lightly with a kiss and her knees threaten to give way, reminding her how it’s supposed to feel when you’re with someone you want to be with. The last time she’d felt like this was with...well, Justin. God, this is going to be harder than she thought.

‘Hi, listen,’ she says, aware of his hands lingering on her waist. ‘I should have called, but I thought I owed you the respect of coming here and...’

His lips are on hers and his hands are entwined in her hair before she can even finish the sentence. He kisses her softly, as if testing the waters. She desperately wants him to continue, but her brain is screaming at her to stop this whilst she can. But how can she when she doesn’t want to? She bites down on his lip, playing for time. ‘I need to tell you something,’ she whispers.

He pulls back to look at her, concern etched on his face. ‘Okay,’ he says, taking her by the hand and walking her towards the open door of his apartment. Her legs don’t feel like her own, and her chest is heavy, but strangely light at the same time, as if there are a hundred butterflies preparing to take flight.

‘Oh my goodness,’ she exclaims as she walks into the vast open-plan living area, with floor-to-ceiling windows perfectly framing Tower Bridge. It’s so close that she can see the expression on pedestrians faces as they cross it. ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Wait until the lights come on,’ says Justin.

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