Page 47 of A Touch of Magic at the Comfort Food Café
I say goodnight and hang up, then sit on the edge of my bed for a few moments. My cheeks are on fire and my mind has disappeared into a place that is very much not the friend zone.
I’m still picturing Aidan naked when my sister screeches up the stairs: ‘Sarah! How do you get the bloody telly to work?’
Duty calls.
Chapter Eighteen
Three days later and Sally is still here. She is by turns frustrating and lovable, and I really need a crash course in how to train your twin sister. We have not lived together since she went to university. Once she was settled in Manchester, she rarely came back, not even for the holidays. She preferred to spend her summers working in a chicken processing plant and sofa surfing, which tells you a lot about our home life.
I made my own way in the world, a little later, and we eventually both ended up in London. Obviously, I’ve stayed at her place overnight, but it’s always been with the girls and Ollie around. I’ve usually been there to provide childcare, which I was always pleased to do. We were both permanently busy, and we’ve never been the kind of close to go on mini-breaks together. Plus, as soon as the twins were born, Sally became a buy-one-get-two-free deal. I was more than happy with that.
Now, after spending such a solid chunk of time with her, my patience tank is almost empty. Part of it might simply be that I feel like my territory has been invaded. I’m used to living alone, and having her mess and her noise and her constant snipingaround isn’t good for my sanity. Some of it is tiny, like finding her hair-entangled bobbles everywhere, and some of it is just plain rude, like rearranging my kitchen cupboards because they ‘didn’t make sense’, or changing the passwords on my TV apps to ones that she could remember. She also draws cartoonish penises in the steam on the bathroom mirror, though I have to admit that one makes me laugh.
The home invasion has also expanded to the Comfort Food Café, where she has launched a charm offensive on all of ‘my’ friends. Sally is far more fun than I am, far easier to be around. I can acknowledge how childish it is to be jealous, but watching her sit and laugh with the other ladies, immediately switching on to their wavelength when I had to work at it, definitely triggers something buried deep inside me.
It takes me back to our youth, to the school days when she was the popular kid and I was the shy nerd. Maybe not that much has changed, now I come to think about it. I’m still a shy nerd; it’s just that adult me is a lot more accepting of who I am. Having Sally around is challenging that, and I need to get a grip. She’s going through a tough spot, and this isn’t about me.
Today, Ollie has finally called her– after she’s been gone for two nights. She predicted that he wouldn’t even notice she was gone, and it turns out she was right. As soon as she mouthed the word ‘Ollie’ when her phone rang, I retreated to the kitchen. I thought maybe she’d go upstairs to take the call, but I ended up trapped in there, trying not to listen.
Once the yelling started, I headed outside into the little patio garden to distance myself even further. It’s lashing it down today, the first truly grim weather of October, a flood of torrential rain that is flattening the leaves of the plants and creating puddles on the courtyard. Nice weather for ducks, as my mum would say. I shelter as best I can by the doorway, but I still get wet very quickly.
I bob my head back inside and hear that she is finally silent. I rub my hair with a towel, and make us both coffee before nervously emerging into the living room. There is every possibility that I’ll get both barrels of her frustration.
Instead, she is curled up in a ball on the sofa, her phone on the floor, crying. It is like a thump to the heart seeing my vivacious sister so reduced. I sit down next to her, and pass her the coffee.
‘How did it go?’ I ask.
‘How did it sound?’
‘Umm… not great. But I couldn’t really hear you, I promise. What did he say?’
She laughs bitterly. ‘He said he’s been busy, and had assumed I was sleeping in the spare room– I mean, I do do that sometimes because he snores like a steam train, but never for two nights in a row! I think he only actually noticed because we ran out of milk…’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ I reply, not at all convinced that I’m right. I’m very fond of Ollie, but he has always been on the self-obsessed side. So has Sally, to be honest. I’ve always wondered how they made it work. I think the girls have been their unifying bond, and now Sally is facing up to the reality of life without that human glue.
‘Well, whether it is or not, he doesn’t seem that bothered I’m gone. I told him I’d run away with my tennis coach and he just laughed and said: ‘I bet you’re with Sarah, aren’t you?’ Because apparently I’m predictable, as well as undesirable!’
I pat her hand and make soothing noises as she cries. Some of this sounds petty, but I can see how genuinely distressed she is. Sally would be the first to point out that I know nothing about marriage, but evenIunderstand that no woman wants to feel superfluous to her husband’s needs.
‘You’re neither of those things, Sal,’ I reply. ‘You’re disturbingly unpredictable, and I bet youcouldhave run away with your tennis coach if you’d wanted to. You’re still gorgeous?—’
‘He’s gay actually, but thanks for the vote of confidence. He– Ollie, not the tennis coach– didn’t sound bothered at all. He said I should just take a break if I needed to, and we’d talk about things when I get back.’
I nod and stay silent. Nothing I could say at this point will help. I picked up on the yelling at her end, even if I didn’t get all the words. At a guess, I’d say that Ollie didn’t follow her script and get dragged into the big dramatic fight that she was looking for. She’s now interpreting that as him not being bothered. I have no idea if she’s right or not.
‘Do you want me to talk to him?’ I suggest tentatively. ‘Maybe it’s just a communication thing. You know how men can be. Ollie’s used to being the king of his ortho empire. Maybe he’s just struggling to explain himself…’
She looks up at me with tear-swollen eyes, and seems to consider it before finally shaking her head. ‘No. He can go screw himself. If he wants me to come home, he needs to convince me. I’m not willing to just trail back there with my tail between my legs and be taken for granted all over again. I’m not even fifty, and fifty is the new forty these days. I’m not old enough to be ignored! No, let him stew. I’ll just stay here.’
Oh goodie, I think, being very careful not to let that flash of ‘Please God, no’ show on my face. The last thing she needs is to feel rejected by me as well as by him.
‘That’s fine,’ I say. ‘Now give me a hug.’
She does, and wipes her face on my jumper at the same time. Then she immediately pulls away, and grimaces. ‘Why are you so wet?’ she asks.
She doesn’t wait for an answer and immediately moves on. Sally is like a shark in that respect– always forwards. I know she is in an emotional crisis, but I also know that her way of dealing with that will be very different from what mine would be. Mine would involve solitude, weepy music and possibly ice cream; hers will involve action.
‘So,’ she announces, ‘I think I’ll stay for this Halloween Ball of yours. Edie has invited me– isn’t she marvellous?– but I thought I’d be gone by then. I’d better get a costume sorted. I wonder if I can still pull off sexy nurse… Yeah, course I can! What are you and Aidan going as? And where has he been the last few days anyway? Laura was really surprised about you two, you know. Why did you keep it a secret?’
