“But… you had a test!” I say, bewildered. “A DNA test! So that proves…” I trail off as Jess shakes her head.

“No. We never did. We were going to. But I had your dad’s name, the dates made sense, and… we all just assumed.” She looks down at the ground. “I think we assumed wrong.”

My head is spinning. They never did a DNA test? They just assumed?

The entire room is silent. I don’t think anyone is breathing. I catch sight of Jim’s anxious, kind face, and quickly look away.

“So… this has all been a big mistake,” I say at last. Suddenly there’s a huge lump in my throat.

“I think it was a mistake,” agrees Jess. She looks up and sees my stricken face. “Come on, Becky. If you looked at us as an outsider… would you say we were sisters?”

“I… I suppose not,” I manage.

I’m reeling with shock and disappointment, but at the same time, deep down, a tiny voice is telling me that this makes sense. I feel like for the last few weeks I’ve been trying to force my foot into a wrong-size shoe. I’ve been ramming and ramming, chafing the skin… and at last I’m admitting it doesn’t fit.

She’s not my sister. She’s not my flesh and blood. She’s just… a girl.

I’m standing here staring at a girl I barely know, who doesn’t even like me.

I really don’t want to be here anymore.

“Right,” I say, trying to compose myself. “Well… I think I’ll go. Bye, everybody. Good luck with the protest.”

Nobody says anything. Everyone looks too thunderstruck. With trembling hands I pick up my bag, then push back my chair. As I make my way past everyone to the door I catch the odd sympathetic look. I pause when I reach Jim, who looks almost as disappointed as I feel.

“Thanks for everything, Jim,” I say, trying to smile.

“Goodbye, love.” He clasps my hand warmly. “It was good to know you.”

“You too. Say goodbye to Kelly for me.”

I reach the door and turn to face Jess.

“Bye, then.” I swallow hard. “Have a nice life and everything.”

“Bye, Becky,” she says, and for the first time there’s a flicker of something like compassion in her eyes. “I hope you patch it up with Luke.”

“Thanks.” I nod, not quite sure what else to say. Then I turn and walk out into the night.


Twenty


I FEEL NUMB. I don’t have a sister. After all that.

I’ve been sitting on the bed in my room at the guesthouse for about an hour, just gazing out the window at the distant hills. It’s all over. My stupid dream of having a sisterly soul mate to chat and giggle with and go shopping with and eat peppermint creams with… is over for good. Not that Jess would ever have gone shopping or eaten peppermint creams with me. Or giggled, come to that. But she might have chatted. We might have got to know each other better. We might have told each other secrets and asked each other’s advice. I hug my knees tight to my chest. This never happened in Long-Lost Sisters: The Love They Never Knew They Had.

Actually, it happened once. With these two sisters who were going to have a kidney transplant and then they did the DNA test and realized they weren’t sisters after all. But the point was, they went ahead with the kidney transplant anyway, and afterwards they said they would always be sisters in the heart. The point was, they liked each other.

I feel a single tear roll down my cheek and brush it away crossly. There’s no point getting upset. I’ve been an only child all my life… and now I am again. I only had a sister for a few weeks. It’s not like I got used to it. It’s not like we got attached or anything.

In fact… in fact, I’m glad this has happened. Who would want Jess for a sister? Not me. No way. I mean, she’s right. We have absolutely nothing in common. We don’t understand one thing about each other. We should have realized it was a mistake right from the word go.

Abruptly I get to my feet, open my suitcases, and start throwing in my clothes. I’ll spend the night here, then head back to London first thing in the morning. I can’t waste any more time. I’ve got a life to get back to. I’ve got a husband.

At least… I think I’ve got a husband.

As my mind flashes back to the last time I saw Luke I feel a hollow dread in my stomach. He’s probably still furious with me. He’s probably having a terrible time in Cyprus and cursing me every moment. I hesitate halfway through folding up a jumper. Just the thought of going back and facing him makes me feel a bit sick. But then my chin stiffens and I throw the jumper into the case. So what if things with Luke are shaky? I don’t need some crummy sister to help me save my marriage. I’ll sort it out myself. Maybe I’ll buy a book. There must be one called How to Save Your Year-Old Marriage.

I cram in all the souvenirs I bought at Jim’s shop, sit on the lid of my lime green case, and snap it shut. That’s it. The end.

Just then there’s a knock. “Hello?”

Edie puts her head round the door. “You’ve got a visitor,” she says. “Downstairs.”

I feel an immediate flicker of hope.

“Really?” I scramble to my feet. “I’m just coming!”

“I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you of the rules.” Edie’s booming voice follows me as I run down the stairs. “No visitors after eleven o’clock. If there’s any carousing I’ll have to call the authorities.”

I jump down the last few steps and hurry into the little sitting room. “Hi!”

I stop dead in my tracks. It’s not Jess. It’s Robin. And Jim. And a couple of other people from the meeting. I can see a few glances flying about.

“Hi, Becky,” says Robin, taking a step toward me. “Are you OK?”

“Er… yes. I’m fine, thanks.”

Oh God. This is a pity visit. Maybe they’re worried I’m going to slash my wrists or something. As Robin takes breath to speak again, I cut in.

“Really. Everybody. You don’t need to worry about me. It’s very sweet of you to be concerned. But I’ll be all right. I’m just going to go to bed, and catch the train home tomorrow, and… just take it from there.”

“Er… that’s not why we’re here,” says Robin, ruffling his hair awkwardly. “We wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh,” I say, taken aback. “Right.”

“We wondered… all of us… if you’d help us with the protest.” He looks about as though for support, and everyone nods.

“Help you?” I stare back, bewildered. “But… I don’t know anything about it. Jess was right.” Even the memory is painful. “I was making it all up. I don’t even know about hedgehogs.”

“Doesn’t matter,” says Robin. “You’ve got loads of ideas, and that’s what we need. You’re right. We should think big. And Jim likes the idea of the party. Don’t you, Jim?”

“If it gets folk into the shop before four o’clock, it can’t be bad,” says Jim.

“You’ve got experience with these kind of events,” chimes in the white-haired man who challenged me at the meeting. “You know how to go about it. We don’t.”

“When you left the meeting we had a quick straw poll,” says Robin. “And it was practically unanimous. We’d like to invite you onto the action committee. Everyone’s waiting back at the hall, to hear.”

All their faces are so warm and friendly, I feel tears pricking at my eyes.

“I can’t.” I look away. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. There’s no need for me to be in Scully anymore. I’ve got to get back to London.”

“Why’s that, then?” says Jim.

“I have… things to do,” I say. “Commitments. You know.”

“What commitments would they be?” Jim says mildly. “You don’t have a job. Your husband’s abroad. Your flat’s empty.”

This is why you shouldn’t pour out your entire sob story to people you’ve just met. I gaze at Edie’s pink and purple swirly carpet, trying to get my thoughts straight. Then I raise my head.

“What does Jess think about all this?”

I look around the group, but no one replies. Robin won’t quite meet my eyes. The white-haired man is gazing at the ceiling. Jim just has that same sad expression he had at the village hall.

“I bet she’s the only one who voted against me, isn’t she?” I try to smile, but my voice wobbles.

“Jess has… certain opinions,” begins Robin. “But she doesn’t have to come into it—”

“She does! Of course she does! She’s the whole reason I’m here! Look, I’m sorry. But I can’t come on your committee. I hope your protest goes really well… but I can’t stay.”

I can see Robin drawing breath to speak again.

“I can’t.” I look directly at Jim. “You have to understand. I can’t.”

And I can see it in his eyes. He does understand.

“Fair enough,” he says at last. “It was worth a try.” He nods at the others as though to say “It’s over.”

They awkwardly murmur goodbyes and good lucks and file out of the little room. The front door bangs shut and I’m left alone, feeling flatter than ever.

When I wake up the next morning the sky is dark and swollen with gray clouds. Edie serves me a full English breakfast complete with black pudding, but I manage only a cup of tea. I pay her with the rest of my cash, then head upstairs to get ready to leave. Out the window I can just see the hills in the distance, stretching into the mist.

I’ll probably never see those hills again. Which is fine by me, I think defiantly. I hate the country. I never wanted to be here in the first place.

I put the last of my things in my red case, then decide to change into my turquoise kitten heels with diamanté straps. They always make me feel cheerful. As I step into them I feel something small and nubby under my toes and reach down, puzzled. I pull out a small wrapped object and look at it in sudden realization.