Sister Sister

by Sue Fortin

  ‘Shit.’ I can, of course, get some more photographs from Roma, but these were printed ones and somehow felt more real than digital copies. I mustn’t let myself get hung up on them, though. I need to stay focused and work out what to do next. I begin to return the items to my bag. I gather up the receipts and sort them so they are all up the same way, slipping them into the pocket of my wallet. I check my bank cards and they are all there. It’s only then that I notice the edge of the page I found at Alice’s house, the one with what looks like a UK mobile-phone number, tucked between my driving license and Hannah’s library ticket.

  I had forgotten all about it.

  With a new sense of determination, I tap in the number on my phone.

  The call is picked up at the other end, but no one speaks.

  ‘Hello?’ I say. ‘Who am I speaking to?’ I can hear their breath and my scalp prickles. I feel a rush of adrenalin coursing to my fingertips. ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ I say, with a bravery I don’t feel. ‘Speak to me! Stop being a coward.’

  A slow tut, tut tut, comes down the line, followed by some sort of derogatory snort, before the line goes dead.

  ‘Bastard! I shout at the phone and throw it down onto the bed in frustration.

  I know, without a doubt, that the person who sent those threatening text messages is the same person I have just phoned. And now I have their phone number. For a fleeting moment I feel elated because if I can trace this phone number, I’m sure it will lead to whoever is behind what has been happening. And Martha will be able to tell me who it is.

  Chapter 26

  I pad down the corridor in the fresh clothes that Luke had brought back to the hospital, along with my bag, earlier. Fortunately he had the foresight to bring in a loose-fitting top, which I was able to slide my plastered arm into without too much difficulty. The slouchy gym trousers he bought were pretty easy to put on too, as were the slip-on shoes. He may be cross and disappointed with me, but he was still thoughtful in his choice of clothing.

  The nurse at ICU looks up and doesn’t seem surprised to see me.

  ‘I’ve come to see my sister.’ The words stick in my throat slightly. ‘Alice Kennedy.’

  She smiles warmly. ‘I had a call from your ward to say you were popping down.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Improving,’ says the nurse. ‘She’s been in and out of consciousness, but she is definitely improving and we’re hopeful she can be moved from ICU soon.’

  ‘Oh, that is good news,’ I say, and I genuinely mean it. I may be able to get some answers if she’s awake.

  ‘You can’t stay very long, though. We wouldn’t normally encourage other patients to visit someone in ICU, but seeing as you’re her sister …’

  I follow the nurse into a private room off the main corridor, which no doubt Mum arranged. The room looks very similar to mine, except there’s rather more machinery and equipment here. Martha is connected up to a heart monitor, which bleeps steadily in the background. A cannula is taped to the back of her hand and a line is linked to a clear bag of fluid.

  ‘The IV drip is just for hydration,’ explains the nurse. ‘And so we can administer pain relief quickly and directly. There’s nothing to be scared of. They’ve put a special sticky plaster over the hole where Alice’s lung was punctured by her ribs. She’s sustained one broken rib and one cracked rib. It will be painful but it’s not life-threatening now.’

  ‘Thank you. That’s good to know.’

  ‘Okay, well, I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes.’

  ‘Oh, before you go, erm, do you know if her contact lenses were taken out?’

  The nurse looks at me with a quizzical expression. ‘I wasn’t aware Alice had contact lenses in. Let me check the notes.’ She picks up the clipboard from the end of the bed. ‘It doesn’t say anything here. I can’t say I’ve noticed any when I’ve done routine obs, which include checking for pupil reaction to light.’

  ‘You’ve checked her eyes? What colour were they?’ The nurse hesitates. ‘She wears coloured lenses, that’s all,’ I add quickly.

  ‘Green. I’m pretty sure her eyes are green.’

  ‘Not blue?’

  ‘Nope. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Not bright blue. You’d remember if they were really blue, wouldn’t you? You could, of course, just have a quick look now. Save you asking a colleague to find out.’

  ‘This isn’t regular procedure,’ says the nurse. ‘But I suppose it won’t hurt if I check now.’ She takes a small light from her pocket. ‘You’re sure she wears them?’

  ‘Positive.’

  The nurse lifts Martha’s right eyelid first and then the other. I try to peer over her shoulder but I can’t see properly. ‘As I thought. Green. So, we’re safe to say no contact lenses in. I’m sure I would have noticed them anyway.’

  ‘Thank you, I just wanted to check. Peace of mind and all that.’

  ‘Okay, well, like I say, just a few minutes.’

  I draw the seat up next to the bed and wait for the door to close behind the nurse. I lean forward, supporting myself with my right arm. ‘I know you’re not Alice,’ I whisper into Martha’s ear. ‘You need to tell me what’s going on. Who is in this with you? Who am I in danger from?’ Martha’s eyelids flicker for a second. Has she heard me? I try again. ‘Please Martha, I need to know.’

  Martha’s arm twitches and her head moves to one side. Her eyelids flicker once more. I say her name again, this time close to her ear. ‘Martha, wake up.’

  Her eyes ping open and there is a look of confusion and then one of fear on her face. She flinches from me and gives a little moan of pain as she does so. ‘Go away.’ She wheezes as she speaks, saliva stringing the corners of her mouth together. ‘Go away.’ She turns her head and closes her eyes.

  ‘Not until I get some answers.’ I grab her arm with my right hand and her eyes open. She tries to move her arm away but doesn’t have the energy to fight me off. ‘Who killed Alice?’ I feel a sense of urgency take over me. I don’t know how much time I’ll have before someone comes in.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ says Martha, her speech not so slurred now.

  ‘If you don’t tell me, then I’ll call the police and tell them who you really are.’ It takes all my self-control not to climb up on that bed and shake the living daylights out of her until she talks, broken arm or not. ‘For God’s sake, Martha!’ I thump the bed in frustration.

  Martha looks at me with disdain. ‘You’re just like her.’ The sneer in Martha’s voice matches her expression. ‘You want everything your own way. It’s pitiful. Pathetic.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Her breathing is more rapid and I hear the pace of the heart monitor pick up. ‘Got everything you always wanted, haven’t you?’

  ‘Is this about the money?’

  Martha lies perfectly still and then, taking a breath, she opens her eyes again. ‘Not only have you had everything you’ve always wanted but you’ve always been loved. You have no idea what it’s like to be rejected. Not to be loved. To have nothing.’

  ‘You have no idea about what I feel or don’t feel, but this isn’t about me. It’s about Alice.’ I stand up and loom over her, our faces a mere inch apart. I grab her shoulder with my one good hand, pushing her into the mattress. ‘What happened? Where is Alice?’

  I’m vaguely aware of the door to the room opening but I can’t stop myself as I push Martha’s shoulder deeper into the bed, my face now just millimetres from hers.

  ‘Hey! What’s going on?’ A voice shouts from behind. Two hands pull me from Martha.

  Chapter 27

  Tom pushes me back into the corner of the room. ‘Clare! Clare, stop.’ He looks back over his shoulder at Martha, who I haven’t taken my eyes from. She looks back at me and I see her acting abilities come into play. She genuinely looks frightened.

  ‘Get her away from me,’ she wheezes as she grabs the buzzer to alert the nurse. The ECG needle starts to ju
mp erratically and alarms starting ringing. A nurse rushes in.

  Tom lets go of me but holds onto my hand, to make sure I don’t go anywhere.

  ‘What happened?’ demands the nurse as she tries to calm Martha, whose breathing is coming in small and fast puffs. Her eyes are bulging and she’s grappling frantically at the nurse.

  Another nurse hurries into the room and, with an expert eye, surveys the scene in front of her.

  ‘Oxygen,’ says the first nurse as she simultaneously offers calming words to Martha not to panic.

  The medical staff busy themselves with Martha while Tom and I stand helplessly watching from the far side of the room. Tom gives me a questioning look, which I ignore.

  I can’t so easily ignore the small voice of revenge that is whispering in my ear. If Martha dies now that will be some sort of justice for Alice, for I’m sure something awful has happened her. It will be karma. What goes around comes around. An eye for an eye. All these clichés rush through my mind and for a few seconds I allow myself to enjoy the idea.

  ‘Clare, you okay?’ Tom’s voice brings me back from my dark thoughts.

  I look at him and then back at Martha. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

  The nurses have placed an oxygen mask over Martha’s mouth and nose. Her breathing is calming down. I don’t know what they’ve done, given her a sedative, perhaps, to lower her heart rate. She seems to be slipping into a sleep.

  The nurse looks up at me again. ‘Did something happen?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. She was talking to me about the accident and then got upset.’

  I’m not sure if the nurse believes me or not.

  ‘Maybe we should leave now,’ says Tom, taking my elbow.

  ‘I think that’s a good idea,’ says the nurse, clearly unimpressed with me.

  Tom guides me from the room. ‘I thought for a minute we were going to lose Alice.’ He takes my arm again and he walks me down the corridor. ‘Come on, you need a coffee.’

  We make our way to the rooftop café. It’s a blustery day out there and the sky is full of battleship-grey clouds. We sit inside by the window. I’m already fed up being trapped indoors and have a craving for natural light, albeit it stormy.

  ‘The weather doesn’t look too good,’ says Tom as he puts an Americano down for him and a cappuccino for me. ‘I think there’s a storm forecast for tonight.’

  We lapse into silence while we assess the weather outside and sip our coffees. It’s me who speaks first. ‘Tom …’

  ‘Mmm,’ He looks up at me.

  ‘Do you trust my judgement?’

  ‘Your judgement? Yeah, of course.’

  ‘You consider me to be of sound mind and all that. You know, not known for rash decisions or jumping to conclusions?’

  ‘Reliable. Dependable. Yep.’

  ‘Thanks for not saying “boring”.’

  He gives a wry smile. ‘I don’t think we have to worry about boring. Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

  I pause while I choose my words. ‘You know when someone commits identity theft, they find out the other person’s bank details, home address and all that sort of thing?

  ‘Yeah and usually fleece them for every penny.’

  ‘Kind of. But what about identity theft being taken to the extreme? Where it goes further than just remotely taking on someone’s financial identity. Where they actually pretend they are that person, in real life, to other people. They go about calling themselves by that assumed name, they take on their history, they even kid themselves that they are that person.’

  ‘As you say, extreme.’

  ‘But possible.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose it is. That’s, of course, if the identity thief didn’t come across anyone who knew the victim.’

  ‘No, they’d have to be meeting people for the first time. People who didn’t know the victim beforehand.’

  Tom drums his fingers on the table and purses his lips. ‘What are you trying to say?’

  ‘That’s not Alice in there. It’s her friend, Martha Munroe. Tom shifts his weight in his seat. His eyes dart around the coffee shop. Anywhere but meeting my gaze. He doesn’t believe me and, once again, I’ve made myself look a fool. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Ignore me.’

  ‘No, wait,’ He looks serious and this time he doesn’t avoid eye contact. ‘I’m glad you did. You see, Alice told me something and I’ve been in a dilemma ever since about whether to say anything or not.’

  ‘What did she say? Tell me, Tom. You know that’s not Alice, don’t you?’

  ‘She came to my house the other night. I know she’s not Alice.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’ I’m indignant that he kept this information to himself.

  ‘She made me promise. She was frightened. She didn’t know what to do. Said she’d got herself involved in something that had spiralled out of control and was way out of her depth.’

  ‘Involved in what, exactly?’

  ‘I don’t know how to say this.’

  ‘Just say it. Whatever it is, say it.’ I brace myself. I’m sure he’s going to tell me that Luke knows as well and that she and Luke have been having an affair, that Luke isn’t really going to bring the girls back. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘A while ago, at work, I was doing an audit on some of the accounts. Routine stuff that we all do from time to time. In fact, I can tell you exactly when it was – it was just before Leonard went to America for that business meeting.’

  ‘The meeting that never amounted to anything,’ I say, thinking back.

  ‘Yeah. Well, I don’t know what he was doing over there, but I’m pretty sure there was no legitimate business meeting. I think he went to America for another reason.’

  ‘To meet her – Martha?’

  ‘It’s possible. And it would make sense.’

  ‘I’m not following you.’

  ‘Right, just hear me out. The other week I was doing a mini audit on the internal accounts and your trust fund was one of them. It was just randomly selected and I had a look at it. I saw some irregularities. Things that didn’t add up. I couldn’t reconcile them with the file notes Leonard had made either.’

  ‘What sort of irregularities?’

  ‘Money unaccounted for.’

  ‘But he’s supposed to be overseeing all that for Mum.’ If Tom had told me this yesterday, I would have laughed him out of the room, but after finding out how Leonard has deceived me so easily about Patrick Kennedy and being my father all these years, I actually find it very easy to believe he has been up to no good with the money.

  ‘The business hasn’t been doing great. You remember when we became partners we both had to put in quite a large sum of money?’

  ‘I know, but that’s normal, isn’t it?’

  ‘Leonard has been hiding the true figures from us. Honestly, Clare, there’s so much we didn’t know. I have all the details at home.’

  ‘Right, so Leonard has been taking money from the trust fund. What has this to do with that woman in there pretending to be my sister? You said she came to you because she was frightened.’

  ‘That’s right. Let’s call her by her real name, Martha. She told me that Leonard had got her involved with the deception and that it was all to do with the trust fund and your mum’s estate. She didn’t know all the details and, to be honest, I’m not sure how it all fits together. I’ve been trying to find things out, on the quiet, of course, but Leonard’s a crafty devil, not to mention clever.’ I rub my face with my hand. This is a nightmare. I’m trying to work out what purpose would Leonard have in getting Martha to pretend to be Alice. Maybe he was going to pay her off with some of the trust fund monies? Maybe they were going to split the proceeds. If the firm is struggling or Leonard has some personal debts of his own, I mean, he has been divorced three times, who knows what he owes to who? Maybe he’s just desperate for the money. Taking it from the trust fund was a safe bet. Who would know?

  ‘We can’t speak
here’, says Tom. He motions with his eyes towards the glances we are getting from a nearby table.

  I lower my voice and lean into him. ‘You have to tell the police.’

  ‘No, not yet. We haven’t got any proof. I need to know all the details and get it straight in my head before we do anything like that.’

  ‘You say you’ve got evidence at home?’

  ‘Yeah, on a memory stick.’

  ‘Right, wait here. I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To get my handbag. It’s in my room and then we’re going to yours to work this all out. Martha’s not going anywhere right now, so we have time.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. It will be quicker. Besides, I don’t want you wandering around the hospital on your own with a head injury.’

  We make our way back to the private ward I’m on, only slowing our pace when we get to the ward corridor, so we don’t arouse suspicion. The nurse on the desk looks up and then returns to her paperwork. Once in my room, I grab my handbag and then Tom and I stroll back out again. Fortunately, the nurse’s station is empty and we slip out without being noticed.