The Sun Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Right.’ I didn’t know whether I wanted to cry or vomit, but I knew I couldn’t take any more. ‘Stella, would you mind if I called for my car to take me home? I need . . . I just need some time to take all of this in.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said as I pulled out my cell and made the call. ‘Are you going to be okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I have to be, don’t I? At least now I know.’

  ‘Anything, anything I can do . . . please, tell me.’

  ‘I will. Just one last thing: you said you were in Africa when I was born and taken to Hale House?’

  ‘I was, yes. I was invited to be part of a secret UN fact-finding mission to South Africa. You have to understand that by then, Rosa had been missing for over two years. I swear, Electra, if I had known, I would have been there for her and, of course, for you. But I had to move on with my life, and . . . I went.’

  ‘Okay,’ I nodded as the doorbell rang to tell me my driver had arrived.

  ‘Please keep in contact and let me know when you’re ready to see me. I understand it’s so much to take in and you need some time, but I just want to be there for you, it’s important you know that,’ she said as she followed me up the stairs to the front door. ‘Just let me know when.’

  ‘I will.’

  She reached out her arms to hug me, but I turned away and opened the door. I just needed to breathe some clean air and step back out into the present.

  ‘Goodbye, Stella,’ I said as I ran down the steps to the waiting car.

  When I arrived home, I saw Mariam and Lizzie sitting in the kitchen.

  ‘Hi,’ I said wearily.

  ‘Are you okay, Electra?’ Both of them were on their feet immediately, trailing behind me as I walked towards my bedroom.

  ‘Yeah, I’m good, I just need some sleep.’

  I closed the door in their faces, feeling rude, but I literally couldn’t stand up for another second. Just about managing to take off my sneakers and jeans, I fell onto the bed, pressed the control that would bring the blinds down, and closed my eyes.

  ‘Electra?’

  I heard a familiar voice calling me and I groaned as I came to from what felt like the deepest sleep I’d ever had.

  ‘Yup,’ I murmured.

  ‘It’s Lizzie. I was just checking that you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m fine, just . . . sleepy.’

  ‘Okay, good. Just to let you know, it’s eleven o’clock.’

  ‘At night?’

  ‘No, in the morning. You’ve slept for something like fourteen hours, and Mariam and I were getting worried about you.’

  ‘Really, I’m fine,’ I emphasised, realising that maybe they thought I’d been on the hard stuff again.

  ‘Shall I leave you be or get you some coffee? I bought some bagels and smoked salmon from the deli too.’

  I lay there and noticed that I was actually starving. ‘That sounds good, Lizzie, thanks.’

  I opened the blinds, and sat blinking in the bright sunlight. In my entire life, I didn’t think I had ever slept as long as I just had. Maybe it was my brain’s way of switching me off, giving me rest in order to deal with what I’d heard yesterday. Surprisingly, I thought, as I tentatively gauged my brain’s reaction, I didn’t feel as bad as I expected I would. In fact, I felt a weird sense of relief that I finally knew the truth. Even if that truth was crap. I also found myself thinking how lucky I was not to live in a time when the colour of my skin would have totally defined my future, and that somehow, I’d been saved from walking down the same path as my mother.

  As I lay there thinking about my heritage and how I’d read that addiction was genetic, I then thought of Stella, who had only been addicted to her work: striving to make the world a better place. I thought of her strength, and how calm and balanced she was, and hoped that some of her genes were in me too. And even though there were bits of my mom that had reminded me of myself, at heart, I’d always wanted to be a good girl, not a bad one. Admittedly, my fiery temper had gotten in the way . . . so maybe I was a mixture of both my mom and my granny, and that suited me just fine.

  As for the man who had provided the seed it took to make me . . . I guessed I would never know who he was, but that was all right too. It was becoming even more obvious that I’d had a pretty amazing father from the beginning. A man who’d apparently spent a lot of time trying to find me some blood family so he could leave them behind for me. And he’d succeeded.

  ‘Here you go, breakfast in bed, madam, and you deserve it,’ said Lizzie, coming in with a tray, on which stood a hot pot of coffee, a cup and two smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels.

  ‘Really, why?’

  ‘Your granny called about ten times last night and three times this morning. Obviously she didn’t give me any details, but just said I was to watch out for you. She sounded concerned for you, Electra.’

  ‘Yeah, she had to tell me some pretty hardcore stuff about my mom. And other ancestors,’ I sighed.

  ‘Well,’ said Lizzie, pouring the coffee into my cup, ‘you know I’m here if you want to talk about it. Bagel?’

  ‘In a moment, but why don’t you take one? I can’t eat both.’

  ‘No, you might want it; I’m a feeder.’ She winked at me. ‘By the way, Mariam was telling me you got mugged in the park yesterday. Have you contacted the cops?’

  ‘What’s the point? They don’t give a shit if a rich girl’s lost her Rolex, do they? It’s probably them that are buying it for a hundredth of its value from the perps.’

  ‘I definitely think you’ve got to consider getting yourself some security, Electra. You’re a well-known face, a celebrity. In LA, no one like you would ever step out of their gate without some form of protection. I’m sorry to sound like your mum, but I think you have to consider it. Anyway, I’ll leave you to eat your breakfast in peace. Anything you need, just give me a call.’

  I sat there enjoying my coffee and despite my protestations, managed to down both bagels. I thought how nice it was to have a roommate, but also Lizzie had that warm, cosy air of motherliness about her, which made me feel safe and looked after. I so hoped she’d never leave, because I loved having her here. I thought about what she’d said and guessed she was right. Susie had been telling me for years I should have a bodyguard, but the thought of a stranger tracking my every move horrified me. Then I remembered the idea I’d had before, so I showered, dressed in a pair of track pants and a T-shirt and went into the kitchen. Mariam was at work on her laptop.

  ‘Good morning, Electra, or should I say afternoon,’ she smiled at me. ‘Let me know when you’re ready to have a chat. The woman who runs the ethical materials cooperative has got back to me. She’s very excited at the thought of a possible collaboration with you.’

  ‘Great. By the way,’ I said as Lizzie came into the kitchen with my breakfast tray, ‘has anyone seen Tommy this morning?’

  ‘No,’ said Lizzie, ‘there was no one outside when I popped out to the deli.’

  ‘I’m getting worried – it’s not like him to disappear. It’s got to be a week since I last saw him and I need to talk to him because I want to offer him a job.’

  ‘As what?’ Lizzie asked.

  ‘As my bodyguard. I mean, he’s, like, sort of doing it now and I guess he’d quite like to be paid. I mean, he’s an army vet, obviously fit and—’

  I stopped talking as Mariam stood up and abruptly ran out of the kitchen into the hall, where she slammed the door to the guest bathroom behind her.

  I looked at Lizzie in shock. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

  ‘Uh . . . maybe.’ Lizzie was looking shifty and uncomfortable.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing, I mean, I think you’d better talk to Mariam about it. It’s none of my business. Right, I’m going into the living room to await the call from the lawyer Miles suggested to me. See you in a bit.’

  I stared out of the window confused, but then finally the penny dropped.

  ‘Electra, you’re a total m
oron!’ I said to myself as it all began to fall into place. That confession I’d heard at AA that I thought was about me . . . ‘Miss Ego, or what?’ I whispered with a roll of my eyes. Then Mariam’s abrupt reply when I’d asked for Tommy’s cell phone number a few days ago, and the way she’d acted in the last few days when I’d just known something was wrong . . .

  I walked down the hallway towards the bathroom and tapped gently on the door.

  ‘Mariam, it’s me, Electra,’ I said softly. ‘I’m so sorry if I’ve been insensitive. You should have said something to me before. Can you come out so we can talk about it?’

  Eventually, the door opened, and I saw her tear-stained face.

  ‘Please, forgive me, Electra. My outburst was completely unprofessional. I promise it won’t happen again. I am fine now,’ she said as she passed by me and walked back towards the kitchen.

  ‘It’s blatantly obvious you aren’t, Mariam. How long has this thing between you and Tommy been going on?’ I asked her, sitting down at the table opposite her.

  ‘Oh, it was nothing, and it’s over now anyway . . .’ Another tiny sob emanated from her throat and she swallowed hard. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Please stop apologising, it’s me who should do that. I’ve been so wrapped up in Electra world, I didn’t see what was right under my nose.’

  ‘Honestly, there was nothing to see. It was just after you went into rehab and, well, the two of us got close,’ Mariam confessed, pulling a tissue out of her sleeve and blowing her nose. ‘He’s such a kind man and cares for you so much, and even though we come from completely different worlds, we just kind of . . . bonded. I was coming by to work at the apartment and even though you weren’t here, he kept appearing on the doorstep. He said he liked his routine. And we started going for a walk in Central Park, just sitting on a bench and eating our lunch together. And one thing led to another and . . . we realised that we liked each other a lot.’

  ‘But surely that’s wonderful, Mariam? I mean, I obviously don’t know Tommy as well as you do, but I do know he’s a lovely guy and that he’s had a rough time.’

  ‘No, Electra, it is not wonderful. Tommy is ten years older than me, he has a child and an ex-wife. He’s a recovering alcoholic, you know, and he lives off his army pension because he has PTSD and’ – Mariam swallowed hard – ‘besides all that, he isn’t of my faith.’

  ‘I remember you once telling me that your father had said you must embrace the country in which you were born,’ I said.

  ‘I did, yes, and he meant it too. But that sentiment does not go as far as me marrying outside the faith. It is forbidden for any Muslim woman to marry a non-Muslim man.’

  ‘Is it? I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Yes. Even though Muslim men can marry non-Muslim women. Life really isn’t fair, is it?’

  ‘My pa always told me that all the old biblical texts were written by men, Mariam, so they could have it all their own way, you know,’ I shrugged, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Could you guys not get married in a civil ceremony?’

  ‘I am the eldest daughter in my family, Electra. Our entire life, our community, has been based around our faith since I was young. A civil wedding would not be recognised – I would be going against all the principles that I have been brought up with if I married him.’

  ‘Mmph,’ I said. Not being a believer in organised religion myself, it was difficult for me to have an opinion, apart from the fact I knew how much it mattered to Mariam. ‘Could Tommy not convert to your lot – I mean, faith?’

  ‘Maybe he could, yes, but remember he was out in Afghanistan, Electra, and even though he has never said this outright, I know he saw some atrocities that were perpetrated by Muslim extremists. He has friends who died at their hands, blown up by mines or bombs . . . Oh, it is just all so complicated!’

  ‘Love always is, isn’t it?’ I sighed. ‘I mean, this probably isn’t a solution, but could you two just live in sin or something?’

  ‘No, never, Electra. That would be the worst sin of all,’ Mariam said firmly.

  ‘And what has Tommy said to all this?’

  ‘Nothing. As I told you, I said it was over between us a week or so ago.’

  Which must have been around the time I heard him talk at the AA meeting, I thought.

  ‘So that’s why he hasn’t been here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And he knows why?’

  ‘Kind of.’

  ‘But have you actually asked him whether he would be prepared to convert to Islam? I mean, if that’s the only option?’

  ‘Of course I haven’t. He hasn’t asked me to marry him or anything, but given everything I’ve just told you, I just can’t see a future for us, so I decided that the best thing was simply to end it.’

  ‘Well, I get that it’s a little complicated,’ I replied, feeling like the mistress of understatement, ‘but oh, Mariam, I’ve known there’s something wrong for ages. I also need to tell you – well, I need to break one of the rules of AA confidentiality – and say that I heard him speak at a meeting last week. He stood there and told everyone that he’d fallen in love, but the person he was in love with could never be his. Me and my overblown ego thought he was talking about me,’ I smiled. ‘Of course, he was talking about you. He loves you, Mariam, truly he does. And if you love him too, I’m sure there’s a way that this can be worked out. But you guys have got to speak. You’ve just got to tell him what you’ve told me.’

  Mariam sat there in silence, staring at the kitchen wall in front of her.

  ‘Anyway, I’m worried about him. At least give me his cell phone number so I can check on him.’

  ‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘I deleted it from my own cell so I wasn’t tempted to call him, but I remember it.’

  I took down the number and stared at her. ‘Listen, I’m not you and from my track record with men, I’m not going to sit here and offer you any advice. But there was something that my grandmother told me that stuck with me. This woman – Kiki Preston was her name – once said to a . . . relative of mine, that you have to work out who is important to you, and to hold fast to them. You have to do whatever it takes to make yourself and those you love happy, because before you know it, your life could be over. And I think she’s right. It’s what I’m trying to do myself.’

  ‘Forgive me, Electra, I feel so terrible burdening you with all my problems when I know what a difficult time you’re having just now. Never in my whole career have I had a situation where my personal life has interfered with my professional life. If you wish to employ Tommy as your bodyguard, then I have no right to stop you. I will cope, of course I will,’ she said.

  ‘Hey, I think we went past keeping our relationship professional when I had my meltdown before I went into rehab. You’ve been wonderful to me, Mariam, and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise either your happiness or our future relationship. Promise.’

  ‘Well, that is very kind of you to say, but, I am a professional and you don’t need to take my feelings into account. Now, shall we talk about your design project?’ she said, putting on her brightest smile.

  Shaken by my experience in the park yesterday, I decided to go to the gym to work out. As I pounded the treadmill, I thought about how my life had changed in the past few weeks. Before, all I’d done was travel from one shoot to the next. Now, it was one shoot every ten days or so, yet in between, my life seemed to be overflowing with personal stuff. And however tough some of that might be, I knew I could cope, because I had managed to gather a group of great people around me. One of them was my actual blood, and the others seemed to really care about me . . .

  Which immediately brought me on to Miles.

  I missed him. Not in a ‘I haven’t seen you in a while’ kind of missing, but in a permanent dragging at my heart – it was a feeling I couldn’t quite describe. It was as if I wasn’t whole if he wasn’t around, which sounded kind of weird and serious. Maybe Lizzie was right, and he was too intimidated by me to say anyt
hing. Or maybe I just hadn’t shown him how I felt about him . . .

  But I was scared too, because I had shown Mitch how I felt. In fact, I’d been so needy, I wanted to vomit when I thought about the person I’d been with him. I just couldn’t let myself go there again . . .

  Later, in the car on the way to my AA meeting, on a whim I redirected the driver to take me by the Flatiron Building to the meeting nearby. If Tommy was in trouble – which I guessed he was – I had a feeling that’s where I’d find him.

  Sure enough, there he was, sitting a few rows in front of me, his red baseball cap marking him out. He didn’t speak this time, and neither did I – after yesterday, if I started, I’d never stop, and I just needed time to process all I’d learnt slowly and in my own time. When the meeting was over, I decided to lurk at the back of the room and wait for him to pass by me.

  ‘Hey, Tommy!’ I called to him. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

  ‘Oh, hi, Electra. How are you?’

  I saw that his face was pale and his eyes were red as though he hadn’t slept for days. The good news was that I didn’t catch any scent of alcohol on his breath as he spoke to me.

  ‘I’ve missed your presence outside my building,’ I said cheerily. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘Oh, you know, places,’ he shrugged.

  ‘Want to grab a coffee?’ I asked him. ‘I mean, not that coffee,’ I said, indicating the urn.

  ‘Really?’ He looked at me in surprise.

  ‘Yeah, why not?’

  ‘I . . . okay then.’

  We found a place just around the corner and sat down.

  ‘Are you okay, Tommy?’ I asked him.

  ‘To be honest,’ he said as he blew on his espresso, ‘life ain’t so great at the moment.’

  I decided this wasn’t the moment to pussyfoot around.

  ‘Look, I know what’s happened. With Mariam.’

  ‘Seriously?’ He looked shocked. ‘How?’