Blood Sisters: The #1 bestselling thriller from the author of My Husband's Wife

by Jane Corry

  ‘How is Kitty getting on?’ I ask as we drive out of the gates.

  My mother rubs her eyes. They are red. But her arms aren’t bruised like they used to be.

  ‘She seems quite happy in her own way. The other day, she told me – through the machine – that she had “better food than the crap in the last place”.’

  We both give a half-smile.

  ‘She also said that she got “proper lessons” now. I see what she means. The old home had some lovely staff who helped her with her picture board. At the time, I didn’t realize there was so much more that could be done. This home specializes in brain injuries rather than general disabilities. She has one-to-one help now with her hand–eye coordination. The other day, she actually used the weak arm to help tie up her own shoelaces.’

  ‘That’s incredible.’

  So too is the world that’s whizzing past. The world which I purposely stepped out of after the accident in order to protect my sister and mother. One where people are walking past with shopping. Unaware of prison life and all the lies that go on inside.

  Mum stops at a crossroads. ‘But I can’t help feeling guilty for not being able to cope any more.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ I say firmly.

  Shortly after Kitty’s confession, Mum found she simply couldn’t handle the responsibility of a baby and my sister. There had been some drama apparently when Kitty had tugged at her baby’s leg and caused bruising. Mum admitted she’d then smacked Kitty. It was enough for the authorities to sit up and take notice.

  Now Kitty has been sent to a unit that offers special care. Not because of her role in Vanessa’s death – as Lily said, owing to her mental condition and her age at the time of the accident there was no case to make against her – but because she can’t stop herself from lashing out in frustration.

  ‘When can I go and visit her?’ I ask, putting on my seat belt awkwardly. It’s been a while since I was in a car.

  ‘They say it’s best to wait a bit. Until she settles down.’

  But there’s something else that’s wrong. I can sense it.

  For a moment I think that she’s guessed the one thing I’ve kept back.

  ‘What is it, Mum?’

  Her eyes glance in the mirror. ‘There’s someone here to see you.’

  I follow her eyes to the other side of the car park. I freeze. I would know that tall figure anywhere.

  It is Lead Man.

  I could have told him to leave. Just as I did when he visited me in prison.

  But I didn’t. Instead, I am sitting with him, a few days later, on a bench overlooking the Thames, near to where we walked on our first night together.

  ‘I read about the appeal and had to get in touch again,’ he says simply.

  I wait for him to continue. Silence, I have learned from Sarah, can make people say more than they mean to.

  ‘I feel so bad about what happened. I cared for you, Alison. I really did. In fact, I still do.’

  I search my heart. Examine it for signs that I feel the same. But there’s nothing there. For a minute I think of my sister. She never talks about Johnny now.

  ‘Please forgive me,’ he says.

  The very words that my father used shortly before he died. How can I expect to be forgiven if I don’t forgive others?

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I do.’

  He takes my hand. I wait for that thrill. That insanity I’d felt before. It doesn’t come. ‘Is there any chance for us?’ he asks.

  As he speaks, a couple walks past. The man has one of those baby carriers close to his chest. There’s a mass of very blonde hair poking out. He bends down and kisses the top of the child’s head. I might have had a baby like that by now if I’d made different choices. Perhaps it’s not too late.

  ‘No,’ I say softly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  July 2018

  Robin is handling our case. Mum and I need to meet him to discuss our ‘strategy’. I am both scared of seeing him and excited.

  Anyway, here I am. Sitting in a restaurant not far from the bay where we used to swim when we came here on holiday.

  St Ives had been Mum’s idea. ‘What you need,’ she had said softly, ‘is a new start. I’ve been thinking of moving for a while.’

  So here we are. In a seaside town that we have both always loved. The light is perfect for painting. I’ve got a job at a local art college. I’ve even bought myself a new wetsuit and swim most mornings. There’s nothing like that bracing shock of cold followed by a hot shower. Even though I know the sea can turn on you. Just like life.

  It was Robin’s idea to come down rather than me going up to London to see him. Mum bailed at the last minute, saying she needed to stay with Vanessa rather than have a babysitter.

  ‘You’re looking good.’ His eyes take in my hair which I’ve allowed – at Mum’s suggestion – to ‘grow a bit’. I’ve put on some weight and no longer look quite so scrawny.

  ‘I feel better being here,’ I say. ‘The sea calms me down.’

  ‘I know just what you mean. I miss it.’ He shuffles in his seat. ‘And I miss …’

  He stops.

  What? I almost say. But the moment has passed. Instead, he hands me a file.

  ‘I’ve gathered statements from the social worker; the baby group in the library that your mother takes Vanessa to; the GP; and everyone else I can think of who vouches that Vanessa is thriving in your mother’s care. Can you take a look?’

  He pushes it towards me. Our hands fleetingly brush. I feel an unexpected flash of something. It’s not what I had with Lead Man. Yet it’s comforting. No; more than that.

  For goodness’ sake, I tell myself crossly. Haven’t you got enough to deal with?

  I glance through the notes. ‘There’s something else,’ I add. ‘It won’t just be Mum who’ll be looking after Vanessa. So will I.’

  ‘Really?’

  I nod. ‘I’m going to set up my own studio too.’

  ‘I’m glad. It suits you here.’

  He pushes away his plate. The sea bream is delicious but neither of us has an appetite. All I can think of is my sister in a place that we’re not even allowed to visit yet until she ‘settles down’.

  ‘Vanessa belongs with us. We have to do this for my sister’s sake,’ I say softly. ‘It’s the one thing I can do for her.’

  80

  July 2018

  Kitty

  B … E … L … L … A.

  That was the name of the new girl who’d moved into the bedroom next to hers. Kitty knew that because it was written in pretty letters on the door. Her mother had done it with pastels. Kitty’s name was just typed, like all the others here.

  Bella had some gorgeous stuff in her room.

  ‘I love your duvet cover,’ said Kitty, admiring the pink and blue frills.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Bella slowly. ‘Mum made it.’

  Kitty had got a new machine which was small enough to be strapped round her waist and lie on her knees in the wheelchair. Call Me Jeannie bought it for her. It translated the words in her head and had learned to interpret Kitty’s thoughts with pretty good accuracy. Sometimes this was good. Sometimes it wasn’t. They didn’t take kindly to swearing here and she didn’t always remember to switch it off before she thought something bad. The woman who ran the meditation class said you had to breathe the good things in and breathe the anger out.

  It was funny. Since she’d been here, thought Kitty, the memories of the past had faded. Sometimes they turned up. And then sometimes they went away again. Just like that.

  Bella seemed quite calm. Maybe that was because the lorry that had crushed her head took away the cross bits. She wore a helmet like Kitty’s. And she had dark hair poking out from underneath, just like her.

  ‘You look like twins!’ said Nice Carer No. 1.

  ‘I’ve always wanted a sister,’ said Bella through her machine.

  ‘Me too,’ said Kitty, after flicking on her own.

  ‘I tho
ught you had one.’

  Kitty pondered this. ‘I do. But there’s only half of her.’

  Bella held out her hand. It was all floppy and limp because of the lorry. ‘I could be your sister, if you like.’

  Kitty felt a buzz going through her. ‘Cool,’ said the machine. ‘Cool’ was Bella’s favourite word. ‘I’d like that.’

  Bella reminded her of a nicer Vanessa.

  That triggered another memory too. Something about a girl called B … Barbara! Straight Fringe Barbara. The schoolgirl who had helped out in the home in her spare time and had got them together in a band. The one who had noticed when she’d been upset by Flabby Face Dad and had run off with her wheelchair until they’d been stopped at the end of a corridor.

  It struck Kitty now that she’d liked Barbara because she’d reminded her of someone else. That was it! Her old best friend Vanessa. They’d both been nice at times but bossy at others. And they were good at music. Johnny had been in the band too. He’d loved her until he fell in love with someone else. But now she didn’t need any of them.

  Because she had Bella instead.

  Friday Mum and Alison came to visit the other day. They brought a kid too. It was yelling.

  ‘We’re going to make sure we can always look after Vanessa for you,’ said Friday Mum.

  Who was Vanessa? Kitty had a vague memory of blonde plaits. Then it was gone again.

  Then Half a Sister handed something to her.

  ‘My locket!’ said the machine.

  ‘They say you can wear it if you’re careful not to catch it on anything,’ said Friday Mum.

  ‘I’m not a fucking baby.’ Then she opened it. Inside was a picture of a pretty young girl. She had plaits and a sweet smile. It reminded Kitty of someone.

  ‘That’s you when you were younger,’ said Half a Sister. ‘I put it there when you weren’t … weren’t able to wear it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I love you.’

  Kitty felt something lurch in her heart. ‘I love you too.’

  Then Half a Sister and Friday Mum looked as though they were going to cry. But the kid got in first.

  ‘Can you go now? That thing is hurting my head. I can’t think straight.’

  They left soon after that. That was better! She could get on with her finger painting and then it was fishcakes for tea. And everyone – especially the new girl next door – thought the locket was lovely.

  81

  September 2018

  Alison

  I’m about to start a new class. I love this feeling. That sense of excitement. Hopefulness. Not just for my students. But for me too. This is the first stained-glass workshop I have done since my sentence. It will be a test, my counsellor says.

  ‘You hold your scalpel like this,’ I say to the class. ‘Always wear gloves.’

  ‘What if we cut ourselves?’ asks someone.

  ‘Let me know immediately. I have a first-aid kit ready.’

  My own is in my head. Ready to jump into action if I feel that need to slice myself.

  So far, so good.

  There’s a knock at the door. I bite back that wave of irritation when a student is late and I have to go over my instructions again. Still, I’ve only just started …

  I open the door. Then I stop. A man is standing there. In a blue and red jacket which is clearly too small for him. His hair is longer than when I last saw him. But he still bears the same anxious expression.

  ‘I know I haven’t signed up but the college said there was one place left.’ Robin’s eyes hold mine. ‘Is that all right?’

  The weeks pass. All too soon it’s the day of the custody hearing. I’m so nervous that I can hardly breathe.

  ‘It will be all right,’ says Robin when I meet him at a café near the court. Mum has already gone inside to settle Vanessa.

  ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘We’ve got a strong case.’

  ‘So has Johnny’s family. They’ve got more money.’

  ‘But you have the love.’

  I’m not sure how this is happening but his hand is reaching out across the table and holding mine.

  ‘This isn’t the time or place to say it, Ali.’

  I almost butt in to correct him. But in a weird way, the old Alison is no more.

  ‘I’ve always loved you.’ He looks down at his plate and then back at me. ‘I blame myself for that party.’

  My head is spinning from the first part of his sentence. ‘Crispin’s? Why?’

  ‘Because I got you the invitation. I wrote one of Crispin’s essays for him so he’d give you one. I’d … I’d hoped that when we were there I might’ve been able to get closer to you.’

  I’m confused. ‘But he said he’d asked me.’

  ‘He was jealous. I could tell that when I was foolish enough to confide in him. His words were … I’ll always remember them … “I thought there was more to that girl than met the eye”.’

  I feel sick. ‘You can’t blame yourself.’

  Robin’s eyes mist over. ‘Exactly what I keep telling you.’

  We are still holding each other’s hands. ‘After the case,’ he says slowly, ‘I think we need to talk.’

  ‘Yes,’ I say simply.

  Together we walk towards the court where Vanessa’s future will be decided. My heart is pounding again. But it is also singing.

  For the first time in a long time, everything is beginning to feel right.

  I feel sorry for Johnny’s family. Well, for his mother, anyway. It is clear – even to the family judge – that it is Jeannie who really wants the baby rather than her son. Johnny is there too but he keeps smooching with the girl next to him, just as he used to smooch with my sister. And his father hasn’t given a very convincing display of affection towards his granddaughter. ‘No,’ he admits, ‘I haven’t visited her.’

  Mum and I are awarded custody, although Johnny’s family have visiting rights. At last I have done something right for my sister.

  ‘You can come and see Vanessa whenever you want,’ Mum says to Jeannie.

  ‘Thank you.’

  The two women hug each other: I can tell there is genuine respect on both sides. And why not? They both know what it is like to have a special-needs child who is now an adult with all the demands that this imposes.

  ‘Can you hold Vanessa for me, love?’ says Mum as she disappears into the Ladies afterwards.

  I don’t have a chance to say no. This is the first proper time I’ve had with her; nerves have always made me duck out of it before today. Now it’s just my niece and me. What if she chokes? (Can babies choke out of the blue?) Supposing she yells and … I don’t know. Has a fit or something like that? I’m not responsible enough to hold her.

  Vanessa stares solemnly up at me, those blue eyes taking me in. ‘We’ll be all right,’ she seems to say. ‘We can learn together. I’m game. Are you?’

  But would she still think that if she knew what I’d done?

  82

  September 2019

  Kitty

  Half a Sister had got huge. Friday Mum said she had a baby inside.

  Oh Tee said she’d help Kitty knit something for it. Bella was going to knit something too.

  ‘We need to do these things together,’ Bella said through her machine. Then she took a needle from Oh Tee’s tray when she wasn’t looking and pricked her finger. ‘You do the same,’ she said.

  ‘Then we’ll be blood sisters.’ Kitty felt a flash of excitement as her own machine repeated her thoughts. ‘Won’t that be fun?’

  ‘Yes!’ Bella frowned. ‘Actually, what do blood sisters do?’

  ‘They’re always there for each other. You know. They do stuff together. They’re like real sisters except that they aren’t actually related.’

  Yet something niggled inside Kitty’s body as she spoke.

  ‘But there’s one thing they’re not allowed to do,’ she added. ‘They can’t hurt each other.’

  ‘Why not?�
��

  ‘Cos then bad things happen.’

  Bella rolled her eyes. She did that quite a lot. ‘I wouldn’t want to hurt you anyway. What colour wool are you going to choose?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘For Half a Sister’s baby, of course.’

  Kitty had almost forgotten about that. ‘Blue.’

  ‘Me too.’

  A lovely warm feeling went through her. ‘That’s nice.’

  ‘I wish I had a baby,’ said Bella suddenly.

  ‘Do you?’ Kitty sniffed. ‘I had one once. But it cried too much.’

  ‘Couldn’t you stop it?’

  ‘I tried to cuddle it but I bruised its leg by mistake.’

  More eye-rolling. ‘Then maybe I wouldn’t like one after all.’

  Oh Tee was bustling over to them now after dealing with someone else in the group. ‘What are you two chatting about?’

  Quickly, Bella reached over and switched off their machines.

  ‘Don’t want to talk, girls? I see. Goodness, there’s the lunch bell already.’

  Kitty’s good hand reached out for Bella’s. ‘Fishcakes and broccoli. Come on!’

  And Bella seemed to understand, even without the machine. Because that’s what good blood sisters do.

  Five Years Later

  83

  Alison

  ‘Ready, everyone?’ asks Robin, handing the girls their packed lunches.

  It’s our daughter’s first day at school. She’s jumping up and down with excitement because she can’t wait to join her cousin. Their new shoes are shiny. The girls have matching shoulder bags. They look so grown up!

  I hadn’t meant to get pregnant. But I will never forget Robin’s face when I told him.

  ‘We’re going to have a baby?’

  It was the ‘we’ bit that confirmed it for me.

  We’re living together now with Mum and Vanessa (whom Robin and I have adopted). The arrangement works surprisingly well. Kitty’s daughter is surrounded by love. When our own daughter was born and Mum brought her in to visit, she’d torn into the maternity ward, her little face bursting with excitement. ‘My sister!’ she’d said with a reverence that made her seem so much older.