A Sister’s Gift (12 page)

‘Anything? Like what?’ She doesn’t answer. ‘Hey,’ I feel the need to fill in the sudden space that has opened up in the conversation, ‘d’you remember Auntie Flo used to bring us up here every week? We used to bring her up chrysanthemums and place them in a jam jar.’

‘Yeah, vaguely. After she died was the only time she was near enough that we could come up and visit her, wasn’t it?’ My sister kicks at the scruffy graveyard turf with her trainers which are
pink and white and petite. ‘I know you must have more memories than me…’

‘Not all that many, Scarlett,’ I put in. Lots of memories of waiting for her to come back, I think dully. Lots of memories of bright promises, so many plans made in the heat of lazy summer afternoons only to be forgotten and blown away like leaves in the crisp days of autumn.

‘But
some,’
Scarlett insists. ‘I can honestly tell you that I have not one memory of being with Helen Hudson. Zilch.’ A bright breeze pushes back the blonde tendrils of hair that are hanging out of Scarlett’s knitted hat, exposing her face so that for a moment she looks naked and vulnerable. A drop of water lands on her nose and she wipes if off. ‘You’d think I’d remember something, wouldn’t you? One little thing.’ She gives me a crooked smile. ‘Sometimes I think – maybe it was me, you know…maybe I was the reason she left the UK for good.’

I look at her, puzzled, and she gives a laugh. ‘I’ve got this fantasy that the minute I was born she must have run, screaming, out of the country…’

‘Why? That’s not true. The last time we saw her you were just four years old,’ I put in. ‘She brought us both straw dolls with painted faces. She took us to London and bought you a huge lollipop in the shape of Big Ben. That was meant to be a keepsake but you ate it.’

‘I don’t remember that.’

I shift my feet on the hard cemetery ground. My toes feel freezing. ‘After that she went back to South America and stayed for two years before she passed away.’

‘Did
I
do that to her?’ Scarlett mutters.

‘Oh, Scarlett! It was nothing to
do
with you, how could it have been?’

‘Why did she leave us for such a long time then? Was I one of those babies that cried a lot? You know, unbearably puky and whiny and horrid?’

I put a hand on her arm. ‘You were the most, placid, smiley,
beautiful
baby I have ever seen.’ That happens to be the truth. She was gorgeous. I loved her as much as any other child on the planet has ever been loved. We spoiled her rotten too. ‘Lettie, Mum left us because she was one of those women who would never have been content staying at home, doing all the domestic stuff. It was never anything in the
slightest
to do with you.’

‘Auntie Flo always said that our mum had a vocation,’ she says softly. ‘Do you suppose that’s what it was?’

‘I guess you’d understand that one better than me, sis! Let’s face it, in that regard you’re far more similar to her than I am. I’m a homebody and I always have been. I
think
she wanted to make a difference in the world, and she had this…big plan…and it mattered more to her than anything. And it
was
something important. It was something that, had she finished it, would have mattered on a worldwide scale, but I suspect it didn’t come without personal cost, Lettie.’ My eyes flicker up warningly to my sister’s face, because perhaps some of our mother’s earnestness has rubbed off on her. ‘It consumed her, in fact.’

‘And then there’s you…’Scarlett turns to look openly at me now, ‘who wants nothing more in the world than to have a little family of her own to look after and that’s so sad, isn’t it, because…it just hasn’t happened.’

‘No,’ I agree softly. ‘It hasn’t.’

‘Which is one a hell of a shame,’ my sister runs on, ‘because you’d really make the most smashing mummy.’ We both glance at the headstone at our feet. ‘Whereas
I’d
probably make a goddamn awful one.’

I shiver, watching Scarlett as she pushes her hair in under her hat again.

‘Funny the way things turn out, isn’t it?’ I turn away, pushing down the feeling of unease I feel when she says that. Oh, it’s all this hanging about the graveyard – I must be imagining things!

‘Hey, it’s got darn cold out here all of a sudden, hasn’t it? Shall we go?’

I check out my watch. The sky is getting more and more overcast by the minute. We’ve been here less than ten minutes, but who cares? We came and did the anniversary thing. It matters, somehow, even though I can’t explain why it does. I nudge my sister in a comradely fashion as we start making our way back.

‘Still want a huge angel guarding over your headstone?’ I grin wryly at her as we come up to it again.

‘Maybe not,’ Scarlett accedes. ‘I’d look a bit pompous, wouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t think you’d look pompous.’

‘So…’ Scarlett reaches out her fingers and touches the cold white stone hem, ‘he forgave her, even though he loved her so much and she broke his heart. That’s kind of sweet, you will admit. I don’t know if I would ever forgive a man who broke my heart. Do you think
you
would have forgiven her, Hol?’

‘Hell, how do I know?’

My sister laughs, her maudlin mood suddenly lifted. ‘If Richard broke your heart, would you forgive him?’

I shrug, laughing back at her then because she’s such a funny old thing sometimes and she chuckles gaily, threading her arm through mine. ‘Let’s run, come on! The sun might have been out earlier but now I’m turning to ice in my boots, aren’t you?’

So we run. The hailstorm begins before we even get to the car, pelting us with little balls of ice, making us breathless with laughter and I remember how as children, a huge group of us were playing on the green one moment and then the next thing we were running and screaming to get out of the rain and how I picked her up and tucked her under my coat and carried her because she was so fragile and so small and I loved her more than all the world and wanted to keep her safe.

I don’t think she remembers that, either.

‘Hey, Scarlett, is that you?’ My sister’s face appears, all earnest and expectant at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Did you remember to take the temperature reading this morning like I told you?’

I roll my eyes, glancing at the calendar on the kitchen wall. How many days have we been doing this temperature-taking business now? It’s the 5th January – only ten days? It feels like forever.

‘Yup. I took my temperature.’ I pick up the phone to make the call I came down to make.

‘And what was it?’ she breathes. ‘You should be near the ovulation part of your cycle now. Did you write it down on the chart?’

Ah, no, I didn’t. I was looking for Professor Klausmann’s telephone number and I forgot. I’ve got other things on my mind apart from just Hollie’s temperature chart – she doesn’t seem to realise that.

‘It’s on a piece of paper somewhere. On the back of an envelope.’ I call out. ‘On the coffee table in the lounge, maybe?’

My sister disappears for a minute. She needs to chill out a bit more, let things take their course. I’m not
used
to having people fuss over every tiny little thing any more. It’s beginning to get on my tits…I open up the fridge door, pondering while I wait to be put through to Professor Klausmann. I want something nice for breakfast, and there’s that tiramisu left over from last night but it’s got uncooked eggs in it so I’m not allowed that. Hollie would have a fit.

‘Professor Klausmann is on the other line if you’d like to hold for just a moment,’ a voice informs me in my ear.

‘Sure I’ll hold.’ I’m not sure what to eat. Ever since I made the offer to be a surrogate for my sister on Christmas Eve, she’s been flapping about me no end. She says she wants me to be in ‘tiptop shape to ensure the chances of a successful pregnancy’, in pursuit of which she’s got me taking folic acid and vitamin tablets, eating healthily (not a drop of alcohol allowed either) and drinking water by the gallon. I’ve played along with her so far but the novelty is beginning to wear a bit thin.

I’m going to meet up with Lucy and some of the other girls tonight and I
will
have a glass of wine. Hell, I haven’t even attempted to get pregnant yet, let alone got pregnant, so Hollie’s going to have to stop being so controlling.

‘I’m sorry, he won’t be long, do you want to continue holding?’

‘Sure.’

I mean, it’s not as if it won’t happen, is it? For most people I reckon it must be a pretty straightforward thing. I don’t imagine all those teenage girls with their unplanned pregnancies ever take any folic acid or watch their alcohol intakes. They just have a shag and, hey presto, it’s done!

I shut the fridge door. I’ll pick up something to eat at the train station. She won’t be able to see what I’m eating, then.

‘Is this it?’ Hollie’s referring to something I cannot see and I don’t bother answering.

‘Hello, Eric Klausmann here.’ The professor’s clipped tones come down the line now.

‘Ah, Professor…’ Why am I getting this overwhelming urge to call him ‘your eminence’? And where have all these butterflies in my stomach suddenly come from? ‘It’s me…Scarlett Hudson.’ There’s a pause as he figures out who I am. ‘You were kind enough to take up my tutor’s suggestion of sponsorship two years ago, for a job in the Amazon I went for.’

‘Yes?’ With a famous name like his, I realise suddenly, he must
get asked to sponsor people all the time. Of course he doesn’t remember me…

I’m one of the long-listed candidates for the Klausmann Award,’ I offer helpfully. ‘I just wanted to say, I’m so thrilled and honoured to have been considered…’

‘Ah, yes, of course.’ He’s remembering where he’s heard my name before, no doubt.

‘I’m really honoured,’ I repeat stupidly. Oh my God, I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say to him. Why I rung him up in the first place…

‘We’re holding a symposium on Mycorrhizal biodiversity in the spring,’ he says now, randomly. ‘I’m looking forward to presenting some of your observations.’

Mycorrhizal what? Oh well, I suppose he can’t remember everybody’s theses. I swallow down my disappointment. Maybe my work on medicinal orchids hasn’t made such a huge impact on the board at King’s College?

‘Um, Professor, I don’t know if you recall but I’m currently working for PlanetLove. With Eve Mitcham. I’m in the UK at the moment, renewing my work permit. I wondered if you’d be available some time today for me to bring up some admin forms that I need you to fill in, confirming that I’m working for Chiquitin-Almeira and all that…’

The pause this time is a longer one.

‘I’m sure my secretary would be happy to fill in any forms for you if you’d like to post them down to her,’ he says at last. ‘She’s off on holiday next week but any time after that…’

‘Oh.’ I can’t exactly insist they rush it through, can I? But if she’s away next week the delay might mean Chiquitin-Almeira announcing they’re dropping PlanetLove in the meantime…’Actually, if I could bring it up myself, maybe today…that’d really help me out, Professor.’

Again, that uncomfortable pause as if he’s weighing things up in his mind.

‘By all means, if you’re in town, I’d enjoy the chance to learn where your views on Mycorrhizal biodiversity come from. Some of your insights were remarkable, I thought. But please don’t come up specially. My work schedule is somewhat erratic at the moment.’

‘Fine,’ I breathe. Damn it. He doesn’t know who I am at all, does he? Oh well. That just confirms where I am in the pecking order. I put the phone back in its cradle.

‘Scarlett…’

I shoot up the stairs when I hear Hollie’s voice. If I can get into the shower before she catches me I might still make my train…

‘This paper?’ She’s back, waving the scrappy envelope at me, a huge smile all over her face. ‘Your temperature’s gone up,’ she says. ‘You’re ovulating. Today’s the day, honey!’

‘Today?’ The sudden sickly feeling in my stomach lurches right out of nowhere. Today what? Today is the day I’m due to get pregnant with Richard’s baby. I look at her blankly. I wasn’t expecting this so soon. I’m not ready, and I’ve got other things planned right now.

‘You OK?’ She starts coming up the stairs, a sympathetic look on her face and I back away before she gets to me.

‘I’m fine, Hollie. It’s just – can we do it later?’

‘Later?’ She looks surprised. ‘Like – when?’

I look at her blankly. I’ve got other stuff to do – can’t she see that?

‘This – fertile period, when the temperature goes up – it lasts for a few days, doesn’t it? Do we have to do this right now?’

‘I’d like you to.’ Hollie looks sad. She’s waited so long for this now I feel bad about delaying her again.

‘I need to have a shower now, that’s all. I’m going up to London to see Professor Klausmann.’

‘This morning?’ Hol stops in her tracks. ‘You’re going to London
right now?’

‘Yep.’

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ I repeat stupidly.

‘What’s so important about seeing him today? Can’t it wait?’

No. It can’t wait. Eve made it perfectly clear before I left Brazil that I needed to get the paperwork at this end sorted as a matter of priority. Because of the fact that new people might be coming in to take over and the whole PlanetLove infrastructure might be on the brink of major changes. Better if I’m already safely ‘in place’ as Eve put it, before that happens.

But now there’s that PlanetLove email to add to my worries as well, I remember unhappily. I haven’t even mentioned that to Hollie. That’s because I didn’t want her fussing. I can sort this out myself. I bolt into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I can’t do this pregnancy thing for her. Not today.

When that PlanetLove email suggests there may be a problem, what could they possibly be going on about?

The possibilities jostle together uncomfortably in my head. My exam results were all kosher. Apart from the maths, where I said I got an A when in fact I got a C. But would they really be worried about that kind of thing at this stage when I’ve been working for them all this time? It can’t be…it can’t be anything else, surely? I feel the slight sheen of sweat forming on my brow.