Page 7 of Sisters Making Mischief
‘Well, I’m glad you can see something to be positive about,’ Sara said, ‘I’m devastated and so are the twins.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ John said, ‘when you get used to the idea.’
Sara stifled a sob and ran out of the kitchen and into the living room where she could be heard noisily crying for a few seconds, until Vanessa went in to her with a box of tissues.
‘Still taking the tactful tablets, John,’ I said. ‘Can’t you see how unhappy she is? She’s barely stopped crying since she got here. I was hoping you would be helpful.’
John sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll apologise, but I can’t say I’m sorry about Marty when I’m not. He was always so pompous and such a show off.’
We sat and had coffee and then Vanessa and Sara returned, Sara looking particularly tragic and red-eyed.
‘Sorry, Sara,’ John said.
‘I know you never liked him. I know he didn’t really fit in,’ Sara replied, ‘I’m just so…’
She grabbed for another handful of tissues and gulped and sniffed for a bit while Vanessa rearranged the mince pies on the snowman plate so that the gluten free ones didn’t touch the ordinary ones. Perhaps she thought that the gluten would leap across and contaminate the whole lot?
We spent the rest of the morning chatting while I prepared lunch, and tiptoeing around Sara as though she was an unexploded bomb. The four girls eventually came downstairs looking sulky because there wasn’t a television in their room, and apparently Jasmine had some new Converse trainers that had been pronouncedlameby Poppy and Mia. I wouldn’t have said there was a proper, Yuletide spirit in the house, which was, at best, disappointing.
Dinner that night was the lasagne, garlic bread and a salad. Jasmine immediately declared that she was ‘thinking about becoming a vegetarian’and leaned away from the bubbling dish as though it was radioactive. This unfortunately started an ill-informed discussion about the evils of meat in general and factory farming, which caused the other three girls to stare at me as though I had proudly produced a vat of botulism and unimaginable suffering covered in cheese sauce.
I thought about the turkey resting peacefully in its bath in the pantry and wondered what sort of reaction that would produce. Perhaps I should increase the volume of vegetables I was planning to serve the following day?
At last, the four girls slunk off from their unsatisfactory meal and into the sitting room where they could watch some reality show Christmas special and eat Celebrations, and I got out the liqueur glasses and the first bottle of Baileys.
‘I have an announcement,’ John said at last.
I knew there was something, he’d dropped enough hints over the last week. Was Vanessa pregnant again? Looking at her sitting next to me in her size six jeans and miniscule sweater, it didn’t seem likely.
‘That’s exciting,’ I said encouragingly.
‘Well, it’s been on the cards for a while now, but it’s official. We are moving,’ John said.
Across the table Vanessa smiled, a flush of colour coming to her cheeks.
‘I didn’t know your house was on the market,’ I said.
‘It’s not,’ Vanessa said, ‘we’re going to rent it out.’
‘So where are you going?’ I asked, rather puzzled.
John took a deep breath, trying to hide the grin that was spreading over his face.
‘New York.’
I gasped, not quite able to process this information for a few seconds.
New York. But that was America. The other side of the Atlantic. I felt a bit sick for a moment.
‘New York, America?’ I said at last, rather foolishly.
‘That’s the one,’ John said, evidently very pleased about this, ‘for two years. Maybe longer. I didn’t like to say anything before now in case it all came to nothing, but this promotion has been on the cards for six months and they’ve been asking me to go for a while, and now it’s all fallen into place.’
‘We’re very excited,’ Vanessa said, her blue eyes wide, ‘we wanted to tell you first, but the girls will be thrilled when we tell them.’
‘You’re all going?’ I said, my mouth dry.
The lasagne suddenly sat like a stone in my stomach.
