Digging Deeper (20 page)

Stef ran over and threw her arms round her sister.

“Surprise! I decided to come to the party. How’s Fluffy?”

“Your hamster has just taken a chunk out of my finger.” Flick was surprised she could speak, considering the size of the lump stuck in her throat. “How did you get here?”
Please don’t say taxi.
Knowing Stef, it wouldn’t have been a taxi from Menston or Ilkley but all the way from Leeds, costing at least forty quid.

“Drew lent me his car.”

“I hope you’re insured.” Flick cursed herself as she said it.

“Of course, don’t nag.”

“I wasn’t nagging. And where did you get that mobile phone? I bought you a bog-standard pay-as-you-go. I can’t afford a contract.”

“Chill out, Flick, for Christ’s sake. Drew lent it me. I lost the other one.”

“I’m not buying you another.”

“Whatever.” Stef turned her back on Flick and strolled over to Beck.

“Hello, sailor.” Stef smiled. “Are you married, engaged or otherwise attached?”

Flick wanted a hole to appear in the floor, hungry for human flesh called Stephanie Knyfe.

“No, well…er…I…” Beck stuttered.

“Good.” Stef linked her arm in his. “I’ve been driving for hours. Help me find a drink.”

Flick’s heart exploded. That was the trouble with Stef, you couldn’t say no to her. Their father’s fault. When Stef was little, she whined, begged and pleaded until she got what she wanted. Within a couple of days she usually lost interest in her new toy because it was the procuring that held the excitement not the actual possession.

Same with men. Stef liked to make men fall in love with her, although to be fair she didn’t have to make much effort. When you had long golden hair, a dazzling smile, cute button nose and legs up to your armpits, it required no more than a five-second sultry stare across a room before the victim swallowed the bait. Once Stef had someone on the hook she teased him for a while before she dumped him, jetsam in her wake, temporarily ruining a life. Flick had seen it happen many times. Boys had cried on her shoulder and told her they just didn’t understand what they’d done wrong. Flick could never make them see they hadn’t done anything.

Now, just as she thought there was a chance for her and Beck, in walks Stef. Flick was tempted to believe in fate. When they’d handed out the bad luck, someone had thought,
hey, I’ll give it all to Felicity Knyfe. I’ll give her a sister called Stef.

Flick knew in the grand scheme of things many people were far worse off than she and she did feel terrible about starvation in Africa and all those people who died in natural disasters and everyone with horrible diseases. Reason enough to stop her sliding from one depression to another worrying over her own problems, but knowing others had worse luck didn’t make her feel any better.

She watched Stef run her hand down Beck’s back and gritted her teeth. The crazy thing was had it been anyone but Stef, Flick would have walked over and run her hand down his back, but she sensed her body retreating, felt her heart closing all entry points. She was furious with herself but she couldn’t help it.

Flick walked past Stef and Beck, through the kitchen and out the back door. The fairy lights had turned the garden into a twinkling grotto. In the dark, it looked magical, as though the stars had fallen to earth and all landed in one garden in Timble. Flick sat on a wooden bench her dad had made. Stef always managed to make her miserable. She’d steal a few moments feeling sorry for herself before she went back inside.

Stef was selfish and thoughtless. Flick didn’t like her. Horrible admitting she didn’t like her own sister and she felt guilty about it, but not guilty enough to change her mind. Flick wished they could change places for a while, so Stef knew what it was like to have responsibility heaped so high on your shoulders you felt like your feet were planted in concrete.

After their parents died, Flick had tried to look after Stef, to protect and care for her, to be the mother and father she’d lost. Flick did it because she was the older sister, but did it more because it was her fault their parents had died. That day, Flick had locked herself out of the house. She called her dad and they’d rushed home and never got there. No one knew. She hadn’t even told the police. Even thinking about it made Flick feel so ill she was barely able to breathe. And it was partly her fault that her sister had turned into a self-absorbed airhead. In pandering to her every whim, Flick had done Stef no favors, only bought herself expensive and temporary peace. All Flick wanted was for Stef to love her, but all Stef did was take her for granted.

Fortunately, Stef kept her visits to Yorkshire brief. Long enough to wreck her bedroom and swap her dirty laundry for Flick’s clean clothes before she went to stay with some wealthy friend. Kirsten and Josh couldn’t understand why Flick let Stef treat her as she did, nor why Stef got the large bedroom that had belonged to their parents, since Flick was in the house far more than her sister. But Flick didn’t want to sleep in there. It made her unhappy. She’d tried. She’d spent a lot of time and effort changing the room but it made no difference. It remained her mum and dad’s room. Since she’d given the other two bedrooms to Josh and Kirsten, Flick had retreated to the attic. Her bedroom was small, too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, but safe.

Flick knew Stef would only play with Beck. He wasn’t her type. Not rich for a start. Maybe she ought to go and rescue him. He’d wanted to kiss her earlier, she knew he had, so all she had to do was find him and take up where they’d left off. She’d explain about Josh’s mouth on her breast and everything would be fine. Hope flickered inside her, a need to be held and told her life would be what she wished for.

When she walked into the house and saw Stef in Beck’s arms, Stef’s lips on Beck’s lips, she carried on walking—upstairs to her room. Before she could change her mind, she picked up the phone.

“Hey, Gerry, it’s me.”

“Hey Flick, what’s up?”

“I wondered if you needed me tonight after all.”

“I thought you had a party to go to?”

“It’s turned out not to be much fun. I can’t drive but if you want to send a car I’ll come in.”

“Two girls down tonight. I’ll order a cab from Otley, so ten minutes or so. See you later, babe.”

———

Beck thought Stef danced well, though not as well as Flick. Stef wanted to impress others rather than simply enjoy herself. She reminded him of Dina—young, attractive, spoiled and selfish—wanting something for the challenge of having it. When the beat changed to a slow number, she moved closer and put her arms round his neck. Beck sighed and removed them. She’d already tried to kiss him once. He didn’t want Flick to see them and get the wrong idea. He glanced round.

“Are you looking for my sister?” Stef asked. “I think she’s in the kitchen. Come and get a drink.”

Beck followed but there was no sign of Flick.

“So what are you studying?” he asked.

“Land Economy. I’ve just finished my second year. What do you do?”

“Teach.”

“Oh.”

Beck smiled to himself. He knew that wouldn’t impress her. “Did Flick go to university?”

“Yeah. Have you ever been to Aruba?”

“No.”

“It’s fantastic. My boyfriend’s family has a huge house there. They’ve just come over to play golf at St Andrews and invited me to join them. I’ve only come home for some clothes.”

“Leaving Flick to look after your hamster?”

“Have you met Fluffy? Isn’t she the sweetest, most adorable little thing?” Stef beamed.

Beck found her broad smile annoying. “Your hamster bites.”

“Flick doesn’t have my skills.” Stef winked. “I don’t get bitten.”

“Why don’t you take Fluffy back with you?” Beck thought he ought to try to rescue Flick.

“Too busy.” Stef shrugged. “I have so much to do in the evenings, I’m not around when Fluffy’s awake. Anyway there’s more room here and Flick has plenty of time.”

Beck didn’t like Stef. While she’d been talking to him, her gaze darted around so he never felt she listened to what he said.

“I think you’re the best-looking guy here.”

Beck gave a short laugh. She hadn’t said it in any sort of complimentary way.

Stef stared at him for a moment. “You remind me of Marcus.”

“Who’s Marcus?”

“Flick’s boyfriend. A television producer. He’s not around at the moment. He went to Australia to make a film.”

Beck didn’t want to know any more.

By the time Flick got back, the party was over but faint strains of music tinged the air. The living room looked like an excavated Pompeii, but populated by characters from James Bond movies. Odd Job reclined on his back, a plate of food on his chest. Parachute Guy slumped with his back against the wall, eyes closed, surrounded by a sea of empty bottles. Lab Coat lay entwined with one of the Gold Fingers in the corner. Flick found Josh and Kirsten sitting in the garden drinking coffee.

“Where’ve you been?” Kirsten demanded.

“Work.”

“You had the night off.”

“Emergency.”

“They must have been lining up for fuel with you in that dress.” Josh whistled.

“Yep, we ran out of diesel. So how did the rest of the evening go?”

“Great party. Josh only reappeared for the last hour.” Kirsten looked at him and grinned.

“The last hour was the best part.” Josh reached out to touch Kirsten’s cheek.

Flick smiled. “I’m off to bed. I take it there’s no one in my bed? Though obviously I wouldn’t object to George Clooney.” Or Beck.

Two guys slept in Flick’s room, neither of whom slightly resembled George Clooney or Beck so she dismissed the idea of climbing in with them and went down to bunk up with Stef. As Flick opened the door she heard the rumble of a male snore and saw the outline of two figures lying under the covers. A naval cap lay on the floor and her stomach joined it. She closed the door and went downstairs.

Flick wasn’t sure how she felt at that moment. Angry. Yes, because Stef always did that to her. Angry with Beck too. Had he hoped for an easy conquest, thinking Flick looked okay until something better came along? If he’d jump into bed with Stef, then he’d probably do the same with any of his attractive female students. Maybe he already had. But Flick felt disappointed, as well. She’d missed her chance and not stood up for what she wanted. No one to blame but herself. She’d walked away and delivered Beck into the arms of a heart-breaker.

She grabbed a blanket and went to the garage. After opening the doors, she lay on the couch they’d moved out of the lounge. The sky was clear, stars shining like diamonds she’d never get. Beck didn’t deserve her. Maybe there were no men worth having. She’d liked Beck better than Marcus but made yet another mistake with a tall, dark, handsome guy. There could never have been anything serious between her and Beck. He was a university professor, she was an embarrassment and he didn’t even know the worst of it. Stef had done her a favor. Really.

———

Dawn’s soap opera woke Flick. A horrible racket. What the hell were the birds saying?
Hi, I’m still alive. Are you alive? Deidre’s had it. That cat got her. Are my feathers straight? I fancy that thrush on the oak tree. News flash, bread crumbs at number 32.

She collected her clothes from her room. The two guys were back-to-back and snoring. Flick wanted to be out of the house by the time Stef and Beck appeared. She needed not to think about them and knew just the thing to occupy her mind. Piling stones in a heap. She’d been paid for a section of wall that still had to be rebuilt.

———

Stef tiptoed into Flick’s room. She could see two figures under the covers and smiled. So Flick wasn’t waiting for Marcus. Stef systematically went through her sister’s clothes. She barely made it by on the money Flick gave her and could only afford to buy a few new items each term. She’d bought a couple of dresses, two coats because a long thick winter coat—totally necessary for wet and windy Cambridge—was no use in spring when she needed a much lighter jacket. One pair of designer jeans that were reduced to a hundred pounds, such a bargain, six tops for everyday and four special ones to wear in the evening and of course the obligatory ball gown. She might need another. She’d also had to fork out for several pairs of shoes, oh and boots, knee high and ankle. But it was still worth looking to see what she could snaffle of Flick’s. Most of her stuff was crap but there might be the odd thing or two.

Drew had been really generous and bought her quite a lot but Flick always had something worth borrowing. Her sister was taller and a bit fatter than her so most of her things fit them both. She particularly liked the dress Flick had worn for the party but couldn’t find it on a hanger or on the floor so she’d take that another time.

When Stef discovered her doll-sized Armani sweater pushed to the back of a drawer, she considered waking Flick to shout at her. The useless idiot had obviously shrunk it in the washing machine. Stef walked toward the bed to yell in Flick’s ear but then looked at the pile of clothes she held and changed her mind. She’d demand a new sweater, and not a fake one either.

Drew was waiting for her by his car. He was such a sweetie. He’d totally shocked her when he’d turned up last night. His parents had been travelling up to Scotland in a private jet and dropped him off at Leeds-Bradford airport where he’d hired a car and driven to the house. They’d arranged for the jet to return to pick them up today. How cool was that?

———

Josh and Kirsten had spent the remainder of the night in their own bedrooms. Josh wanted her in his bed and Kirsten wanted to be in his bed too. They’d barely kept their hands off one another, but Kirsten wanted to finish with Pierce first and Josh understood, though Kirsten knew he was a little afraid she wouldn’t go through with it. She made him promise to not interfere.

When Pierce turned up, Kirsten sent Josh to the kitchen. Her heart beat so fast she felt lightheaded.

“Morning, sexy,” Pierce said. “I’ve been thinking about you all weekend.”

Kirsten swallowed hard, but before she could speak Pierce started again.