But he might have done. How would she know he didn’t?

“Plus I’m saving money, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I push the trolley round her. “It’s a bargain!”

“It’s not a bargain if you don’t need one!” She grabs the trolley and tries to haul it back.

“Get your hands off my trolley!” I say indignantly. “I need a waffle-maker! And I can easily afford it! Easily! I’ll take one,” I add to the woman, and take a box off the table.

“No, she won’t,” says Jess, grabbing it out of my arms.

What? What?

“I’m only doing it for your own good, Becky! You’re addicted to spending! You have to learn how to say no!”

“I can say no!” I practically spit in fury. “I can say no whenever I like! I’m just not choosing to say it right now! I will take one,” I say to the nervous-looking woman. “In fact, I’ll take two. I can give one to Mum for Christmas.”

I snatch two more boxes and defiantly put them in my trolley.

“So you’re just going to waste fifty pounds, are you?” says Jess contemptuously. “Just throw away money you don’t have.”

“I’m not throwing it away.”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m bloody not!” I retort. “And I do have the money. I have plenty of money.”

“You’re living in a total fantasyland!” Jess suddenly shouts. “You have money until you run out of stuff to sell. But what happens then? And what happens when Luke finds out what you’ve been doing? You’re just storing up trouble!”

“I’m not storing up trouble!” I lash back angrily.

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m no—”

“Will you two sisters just stop fighting for once!” interrupts an exasperated woman’s voice, and we both jump.

I look around in bewilderment. Mum isn’t here, is she?

Then suddenly I spot the woman who spoke. She isn’t even looking at us. She’s addressing a pair of toddlers in a trolley seat.

Oh.

I push the hair back off my hot face, suddenly feeling a bit shamefaced. I glance over at Jess — and she’s looking rather shamefaced too.

“Let’s go and pay,” I say in dignified tones, and push the trolley on.

We drive home without exchanging a word, but underneath my calm exterior I’m seething. Who does she think she is, lecturing me? Who does she think she is, telling me I have a problem?

We get home and unload the shopping with minimal communication. We barely even look each other in the eye.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I say with exaggerated formality as I put the last packet away.

“No, thanks,” she replies with equal formality.

“I’ll just busy myself in the kitchen, if you can amuse yourself for a while.”

“Fine.”

She disappears into her room and the next moment comes out again holding a book called Petrography of British Igneous Rocks.

Boy, she really knows how to have fun.

As she sits down on a bar stool I flick on the kettle and get down a couple of mugs. A few moments later Luke wanders in, looking harassed.

“Hi, darling!” I say, injecting even more warmth into my voice than usual. “I got us a lovely waffle-maker! We can have waffles every morning!”

“Excellent!” he says distractedly, and I shoot a glance of vindication at Jess.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Er… yes. Thanks.” He rubs his brow and peers behind the kitchen door. Then he looks on top of the fridge.

“Are you OK?” I say. “Is anything wrong?”

“I’ve lost something.” He frowns. “It’s ridiculous. Things can’t just vanish.”

“What is it?” I say sympathetically. “I’ll help you look.”

“Don’t worry.” Luke shakes his head. “It’s just a work thing. It’ll turn up. It can’t have disappeared out of the apartment.”

“But I want to help!” I run an affectionate hand along his shoulders. “I’ve already told you that, darling. Tell me what you’re looking for, and we’ll search as a team. Is it a file… or a book… some papers…”

“That’s kind of you.” He kisses me. “Actually, it’s nothing like that. It’s a box of clocks. From Tiffany. Ten of them.”

My breath catches in my throat.

Across the room I’m aware of Jess lifting her head out of her book.

“Did you say… Tiffany clocks?” I manage.

“Uh-huh.” He nods. “You know we’re hosting a big dinner with the Arcodas Group tomorrow night? It’s all part of the pitch. We’re basically trying to butter them up. So I bought a load of clocks as corporate gifts — and I don’t know what the fuck has happened to them. One minute they were here… the next, they’d vanished!”

I can feel Jess’s eyes on me like laser beams.

“That’s a lot of clocks to go missing,” she says tonelessly.

I’m swallowing hard. How can I have sold Luke’s corporate gifts? How can I have been so stupid? I mean, I thought I didn’t remember buying them on honeymoon…

“Maybe I put them down in the garage.” Luke reaches for his keys. “I’ll go and have a look.”

Oh God. I have to confess.

“Luke…” I say in a tiny voice. “Luke, please don’t get angry… ”

“What?” He swivels on his heel — and as he sees my face he’s suddenly alert. “What is it?”

“Well.” I lick my dry lips. “I might possibly have…”

“What?” His eyes are narrowing. “What might you have done, Becky?”

“Sold them,” I whisper.

“Sold them?”

“You wanted me to declutter the place! I didn’t know how to do it! We had too much stuff! So I’ve been selling everything on eBay. And I… I sold the clocks too. By mistake.”

I’m biting my lip, half hoping Luke might smile, or even laugh, but he just looks deeply fed up.

“Jesus Christ, Becky. We are up to our fucking eyes. We really need this kind of hassle.” He reaches for his mobile, jabs in a number, and listens for a few seconds. “Hi, Marie? We’ve got a small problem with the Arcodas Group dinner tomorrow night. Call me back.” He snaps his phone shut and the only sound in the kitchen is the kettle coming to the boil.

“I didn’t know!” I say desperately. “If you’d told me they were corporate gifts… If you’d let me help—”

“Help?” Luke cuts me off. “Becky, you have to be kidding.”

Shaking his head, he stalks out of the room.

I look over at Jess. I can see “I told you” in a big thought bubble above her head. A moment later, she gets up and follows him into the study.

“If I can do anything,” I hear her saying in a low voice, “just let me know.”

“It’s fine,” he replies. “But thanks.”

Jess says something else, but now her voice is muffled. She must have closed the door.

Suddenly I have to know what she’s saying. I tiptoe to the door of the kitchen, then creep out to the hall, edging as close as I can to the study door, then press my ear against it.

“I don’t know how you can live with her,” Jess is saying, and I feel a jolt of indignant shock. How can she say that? She’s only just met me!

I can’t move, I can’t breathe, waiting for Luke’s response.

“It’s difficult,” comes Luke’s voice at last.

Something cold plunges into my heart.

Luke finds it difficult to live with me.

There’s a noise as if someone’s coming toward the door, and I leap back in fright. I hurry back to the kitchen and close the door, my eyes hot with tears.

We’ve only been married eleven months. How can he find it difficult to live with me?

The kettle’s come to a boil, but I don’t want tea anymore. I open the fridge, get out a half-open bottle of wine, and slosh some into a glass. I drain the entire thing in three gulps, and am refilling the glass as Jess comes back into the kitchen.

“Hi,” she says. “It seems like Luke’s sorted out the gift problem.”

“Great,” I say tightly, and take another swig of wine.

So she and Luke sort everything out now, do they? She and Luke have little conversations which I’m not invited to. As I watch her sit down and open her book again, a great tide of anger and hurt starts welling up inside me.

“I would have thought you might take my side.” I’m trying to sound calm. “We are supposed to be sisters, after all.”

“What do you mean?” Jess frowns.

“You could have defended me!”

“Defended you?” Jess looks up. “You think I’m going to defend you when you’re that irresponsible?”

“So I’m irresponsible,” I say, a little savagely. “And you’re perfect, I suppose.”

“I’m not perfect! But yes! You’re irresponsible!” Jess claps her book shut. “Frankly, Becky, I think you need to get your act together. You seem to have no idea of personal duty… You’re obsessed with spending money… you lie—”

“Well, you’re a misery!” My words come out in a roar. “You’re a skinflint miserable cow who doesn’t know how to have a good time!”

“What?” Jess looks utterly dumbfounded.

“I made every effort this weekend!” I cry. “I did everything I could to make you welcome, and you wouldn’t join in with anything! OK, so you don’t like When Harry Met Sally. But you could have pretended!”

“So you’d rather I was insincere?” says Jess, folding her arms. “You’d rather I lied? That just about sums you up, Becky.”

“It’s not lying to pretend you like something!” I shout in frustration. “I just wanted us to have a good time together! I did research, and I planned your room and everything… and you’re so cold! It’s like you don’t have any feelings!”

Suddenly I feel close to tears. I can’t believe I’m yelling at my sister. I can’t believe things have disintegrated this badly. I break off and take a few deep breaths, trying to regroup. Maybe I can retrieve things. Maybe we can still make it work.

“The thing is, Jess… I did it all because I wanted us to be friends,” I say. And it’s true. I really did. “I just wanted us to be friends.”