Page 177 of The Sun Sister
‘Bye.’
The door closed behind Mariam, and for the first time in over five weeks, I was alone.
‘You’re going to go down to the gym and lift some weights, have some supper, then get into bed and watch a movie,’ I told myself, trying to stem the panic. So I went to the gym, had a shower, ate what Mariam had left me for my supper, then got into bed and switched on the TV. It seemed like there was only stuff on about gang warfare or shows set in hospitals, neither of which I felt were suitable for my first night alone. I did my best to concentrate on a rom-com, then a French movie, which normally I would have liked, but wassonoir that I zoned out and started checking my emails on my laptop. I was thrilled to see that there was a long juicy one from Tiggy. It was also written in French, which made me glad that I had just watched forty minutes of the noir film as a warm-up.
Chère Electra,
How wonderful to get a letter from you (or, in fact, a letter from anyone these days), especially up here in the middle of nowhere. What with the internet signal being so unreliable, I do feel very cut off, which has both its pros and cons. But that’s like everything in life, isn’t it?
Anyway, today is a good signal day, and so I am sitting outside at a picnic table, and looking across a valley (or ‘glen’, as it’s called here) that is turning a glorious purple with heather as we speak.
The first thing I wanted to say to you is that I am your sister and even though it was sweet of you to apologise to me, it was totally unnecessary. I can’t think of one thing you’ve ever done or said to me that would warrant an apology – everyone calls me a ‘snowflake’, so that really isn’t a problem! – but it was just so lovely to hear from you.
Ma told me a while ago that you’d decided to get help for your problems and honestly, Electra, I’m so proud of you. It’s incredibly difficult to ask for help, isn’t it? But making that leap is the important thing. I’m not sure if you’re out yet – I haven’t spoken to Ma or Maia in a while as I’ve been so busy – but wherever you are, I just want to send you the biggest hug and tell you that I’ve been thinking about you every day and praying for you in my own ‘Tiggy’ way. I know you’re not a great one for ‘woo-woo’, as you always used to call it, but all I can say is I feel that you’re massively protected, and will come out of what must have been such a difficult experience better and stronger and more beautiful than you ever were.
As for me, I don’t think that I’ve ever been so happy! Maybe Ma told you that I’d had some health problems recently, and although I won’t be swimming the length of Lake Geneva anytime soon, as long as I take care of myself and don’t overdo it, I should live a long while yet.
Isn’t it amazing how something good often seems to come from the bad? Well, out of my difficult health (and a shooting incident that sounds much more dramatic than it was, but I’ll tell you about that some other time), I have met The Love Of My Life. It’s a bit of a cliché, because he’s a doctor and he specialises in hearts, which is the part of me that’s had the problem. His name is Charlie Kinnaird and I’m ashamed to say that he is still a married man just now, with a wife who you would say was from hell! She’s certainly a very difficult character anyway, but the good news is they also have a daughter called Zara, who is from heaven! She’s seventeen and is currently at agricultural college, because one day she will take over forty-thousand acres of the most spectacular Scottish land you’ve ever seen (Charlie is actually a laird, which in Scotland means he’s a lord, but he never bothers with his title). He’s just moved hospitals so that he can be closer to me and Zara and to sort out the estate, which really does need a lot of time and even more money invested in it. Anyway, it’s all a bit of a mess at the moment, one way and another, but ironically, as I sit here gazing across the glen, I feel totally content, because I know that I have found the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with. And I’m lucky enough to be doing that in the most beautiful surroundings I could ever wish for.
Also, I don’t know whether you ever opened your letter from Pa Salt? I opened mine and it sent me down a rabbit warren into my past. And, well, put it this way, if you think I’m a little ‘woo-woo’, you should meet Angelina, who is my seventy-year-old cousin! It turns out that I am descended from Romany gypsies in Andalusia, which goes a long way to explaining who I am and the weird things I’ve always seen and felt. When it’s all calmed down a little here, I intend to explore that side of me further, and I’m already working alongside the local vet, putting to use what Angelina has taught me about natural healing and treating animals. Eventually, I’ve decided that I’d like to help humans too with my gift, but for now, one step at a time.
Anyway, darling sis, I do hope you haven’t forgotten our trip on theTitanto lay a wreath on the anniversary of Pa’s death; everyone else has said they can come, even CeCe, who you might have heard has moved to Australia. I feel instinctively that it’s terribly important we’re all there – above and beyond laying the wreath. Could you let me/Ma/Maia know that you can definitely make it? I can’t believe it’s happening this month!
Well, that’s about all for now, though I’d love to hear more of your news, if you get the chance to drop me an letter. I’m going to send this off now before the signal disappears.
All my love to you, Electra, and I can’t wait to see you at Atlantis.
Tiggy xxx
I smiled as I reread the letter just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, and felt genuinely happy that Tiggy had found a life that so obviously suited her. Given I had the whole weekend to reply to her, I decided I’d save writing it until tomorrow morning, when my head would be clearer. I wasn’t good at chatty letters – or anything much writing-wise at the best of times – but her long letter deserved a decent response.
Thinking of the approaching anniversary reminded me of the armillary sphere that had mysteriously arrived in the garden at Atlantis after Pa’s death. The bands had been engraved with our names and some numbers that Ally had said were coordinates to where we were all born, and there was also a quote in Greek for each of us. Ally had handed my details to me in an envelope, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember where it was.
Before I could think about it further, I decided to call Ally. Then, just as I realised it must be something like two a.m. in Europe, she picked up.
‘Electra? Are you all right?’
‘Hi, Ally. Yeah, I’m good, really good. I was just about to hang up when I remembered what time it is in Norway.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. Night and day have blurred into one recently. Bear’s now in full teething mode and even my legendary energy is being drained.’
‘I’m sorry, Ally. It must be hard bringing up a kid by yourself.’
‘Yeah, it is actually,’ Ally admitted. ‘And lonely, especially at this time of night.’
Wow, I thought, raising an eyebrow that she couldn’t see. It was one of the few times I’d ever heard Ally admit to being anything less than superhuman.
‘Well, here I am, keeping you company, and sending you and Bear a big hug.’
‘And I’ve never been so grateful for it. Thanks, Electra. I’ve just been thinking that I might go home to Atlantis before the rest of you arrive. Maia called to say she’s going to arrive early, and I also need some Bear-support from Ma, aka “Grand-Mère”. I seriously can’t remember the last time I had more than a few hours’ sleep.’
‘That sounds like a great idea, Ally.’
‘Anyway’ – she cleared her throat – ‘are you just phoning for a chat?’
‘Partly. I got an letter from Tiggy, which reminded me that I wanted to ask if you still had my coordinates from the armillary sphere?’
‘Of course I do. Why?’
