A Sister’s Gift

by Giselle Green

  I turn away from him, confused. There’s only one other person in the world who has this kind of effect on me and I haven’t seen him for eighteen months…

  ‘You made me feel special,’ I admit. I look at him shyly. ‘You still do.’

  ‘But here?’ He touches his hand to his heart. ‘Do you feel anything here?’

  ‘Oh, Gui, I haven’t the time to fall in love.’ I shrug off his question like I always do. We hang out together on my days off. I love being around him because he’s always so sweet and so gallant in an old-fashioned kind of way. He takes me to nice places, all the exclusive nightspots in Manaus, expensive restaurants and so forth. Sometimes we go dancing. Guillermo dances better than any man I’ve ever been with. I’ve thought I could fall in love with him just for that – if I were up for falling in love right now, that is.

  ‘No time?’ He looks at me curiously. ‘Or is it something else?’

  ‘I have important work I need to do here, that’s all.’ I wrap my arms around my knees and watch the bright flicker and fade of the long white liana stems, the ‘Tarzan ropes’, that hang from every single tree as we skim past the bank. I don’t want to go back to the UK right now. That would be the worst thing possible. ‘It’s taken me the best part of a year to gain the tribe’s trust. And to get to grips with their language. Do you know, Eve said they’ve never had another worker learn the dialect as fast as I have?’ I look at him proudly. ‘The Yanomami are opening up and telling me secrets about forest plant lore that they’ve never told anyone before. There is so much that I’m learning from them right now. And if I don’t write it down for them, then who will? It’ll be lost forever.’

  ‘And you?’ Guillermo smiles softly. ‘When will you tell me your secret, Scarlett?’

  ‘I don’t have one.’ I open my eyes wide in denial.

  ‘Ah, but you do,’ he says assuredly. ‘I have wondered what it is all this time. What was it that propelled you all this way from your faraway land to mine, two summers ago? Will you tell me what it is you ran away from? Or should that be – who you ran away from?’

  ‘Gui, I’m devoted to my job. You know that. I love it here. I adore these people. What makes you think I was running away from anything – or anyone?’ I laugh lowly. ‘What, you think I’m not being totally honest?’

  ‘I know you are totally honest.’ He leans forward and touches the side of my face gently and I realise that I’ve just stuck my tongue in my cheek. ‘You have to be honest, don’t you, querida? Because you aren’t in the slightest bit good at telling lies.’

  Hollie

  I’ll be home in time for Christmas,

  I blink, rereading for the third time the postcard that’s just come in from Scarlett. My God, she’s coming home. And it’s…what, the fifteenth today, which means she must already be en route from the rainforest. It’ll take her a good few days even to get to the nearest city, let alone an airport. She doesn’t give any details about what flight she’ll be arriving on or even what day. The girl doesn’t change, I smile to myself. ‘Expect me when you see me,’ that’s her motto; she’s just like Mum in that respect.

  I take my mug and the postcard and go sit at the table where I’ve been writing the last of my Christmas cards. Except I can’t concentrate any more. I’ve got butterflies just like I used to get when I was a kid, every time I knew our mum was due back home. Scarlett was too young when Mum died to really be aware of her. In fact, I muse now, given that she scarcely knew her at all, it’s incredible how similar in character to Helen Hudson she’s turned out to be.

  I stand up again, sidling over to the wide bay-window seat. The view from here, of the sprawling apple tree slap-bang in the middle of the front lawn with the little path doing a detour around it down to the gate hasn’t changed much. My God, sitting here like this with the thrill of anticipation in my stomach about Scarlett’s homecoming brings back so many memories…

  The last time my mother came home for Christmas, she’d promised to arrive on the twenty-fourth ‘with a wonderful surprise’. I remember I sat here all day, waiting. Sat still so long that my bum ached, my legs got pins and needles, my eyes grew tired and sore with the effort. She would keep her promise, I was sure of it. I wasn’t having any of Flo’s ‘don’t get your hopes up, girl’ because it was far too late for that. We’d seen a lot less of Mum than usual that year. Her work kept her abroad, we all accepted that, but Christmas was a time to be home, wasn’t it? A time to be with family. And Flo had let out a few hints that maybe – just maybe – this time Mum intended to come home for good.

  I can recall every second of that day as vividly if it were scrolling away in front of me now. I remember Flo getting a call about four o’clock that afternoon saying there’d been a ‘little delay’ but Mum would be there within the hour. Why were the minutes ticking by so slowly? And what on earth was she bringing with her for my ‘wonderful surprise’? It was already dark by then. I couldn’t see a thing outside the window any more and I remember I went and put an old kerosene lamp down by the gate to light the way for when she came in.

  We’d eaten our tea eventually, reluctantly, without her and when nine o’clock arrived and Mum hadn’t, Flo had sent me packing off to bed. I’d had to go up, bitterly disappointed, hurt and worried as I was. You didn’t argue with Flo, but what if something had happened to Mum? I couldn’t understand why Flo didn’t share my concern. She seemed more irritated than worried, but if she had more information than me about Mum’s whereabouts she never shared it.

  It must have been gone ten before Mum finally turned up at Florence Cottage. I was out of bed like a shot. I remember the anticipation of sitting on the top step in my nightie thinking, any wonderful moment now she’ll be up here to see me. I still recall Flo’s low, curt tones in the hallway, followed by a sound that I only ever heard Flo utter the one time – a low, choking sound, like an exclamation of horror, that curdled my blood to hear it. Whatever could be the matter? What terrible thing could have happened on this day that should have been a joyous one? And then Mum, her voice as low as Flo’s, and equally inaudible to me in reply.

  I heard the taxi driver taking all Mum’s things through to the parlour and the two women going through into the kitchen and closing the door. But what about me?

  I stood up, the cold night air hitting my bare legs under my nightie as I crept down the stairs, fearing Flo’s wrath if she found me up, and desperate to know what was going on in equal measure. I took one step at a time, holding my breath as I went, the better to hear the two women’s voices, muted but nonetheless distinctly unfriendly behind the kitchen door.

  They could at least have waited till Mum said hello to me before having their argument! Why did adults have to argue over such unimportant things anyway? And why did Auntie Flo have to give Mum a hard time when she’d only just got in? Didn’t she realise that such a confrontation might make it less likely Mum would want to stay with us?

  When I stole into the parlour the room was pitch black save for the kerosene lamp that someone must have brought in and placed on the sideboard. The air was so cold, the fire having died down about an hour before. I could see Mum’s coat hanging on the back of the chair and the sight made me want to rush into the kitchen to her but they were still arguing and I didn’t dare. Nor did I put the big light on. I could just about make out what they were saying.

  ‘You take the biscuit, Helen Hudson, you really do.’

  ‘What’s done is done,’ my mother countered. ‘It’s not how I planned things but it happened. I was hoping you’d be a bit more supportive, Florence, seeing as you adore Hollie so much.’

  ‘How I feel about Hollie doesn’t excuse you from your own responsibilities, Helen.’

  ‘I need to get back to work. We’re making such headway in the Amazon at the moment you can’t imagine…’

  My heart sank in my chest. Mum hadn’t come home for good then. Oh, but she had to, she couldn’t let me down now. Flo had hinted so strongly and
it was what I’d been waiting all day to hear…

  A small mewl, like from a kitten, drew my attention to the wicker basket in the middle of the parlour floor and I stole over to peer into it. A cat? Was this the surprise my mum had been promising, to make up for the fact that – yet again – she wasn’t staying with us?

  But it was no kitten.

  That was the first time I ever laid eyes on my sister.

  Hollie

  ‘Is she his?’ Flo’s voice had come through again, cutting, disapproving.

  ‘They both have the same father,’ my mother admitted at last.

  ‘And the same mother.’ Flo’s voice, thin and unsympathetic, seeped under the door. ‘Who intends to look after neither of them.’ There had been a long silence then as her words sank in for all of us.

  As I stare out of the window even now, the apple tree in the half-darkness forms a shape that reminds me of my sister’s little white face in the bassinet. Her eyes a tourmaline blue, wide as saucers, her little rosebud mouth paused in a half-pout. For a split second, a flash of anger at the betrayal that had taken place that night coursed through me.

  Who was this? I remember leaning over, meanly prodding her with a fingertip as the unwelcome realisation had sunk in. This was it? Mum’s…wonderful surprise? This wasn’t what I wanted! I wanted Mum, not some useless baby. A sister.

  ‘I’m not…mothering material, Flo.’ Mum’s dull voice came through from under the kitchen door again.

  ‘She’s been waiting a long time to see you, Helen. It’s been months. You have another child now…surely you can stay a little while?’

  I waited with bated breath to hear her answer. I wanted Mum. I missed her. I wanted to go back to the time when we’d lived in a bedsit, just the two of us together, a time before the settling and steadying influence of Flo had come into my life, a time almost passed now from my memory.

  ‘I know, I know! Just stop laying a guilt trip on me, OK? I’m home for Christmas like I promised, just don’t expect any more from me than that.’

  When she said those words, the child in the basket let out a great cry, a noise that seemed to me far too loud to come from such a small being. It was as if the little thing knew what I was feeling and she felt the same way. As if it were this great big lament from inside her for something she’d lost and she couldn’t get back.

  Were we both in the same boat after all? When I relented and leaned over at last to pick her up, her little body, hiccupping and shuddering against my shoulder, felt warm as toast. Her head fell against mine and I realised she was so floppy she couldn’t even hold it up. I had to help her with everything. Instinctively I folded my arm about her neck so she wouldn’t fall forward and she became quiet. She moulded into my arms as easily as if she belonged there and in that instant she filled…she filled a space in my heart.

  I turn from the bay window now, my eyes lighting on all the cards that still need to be written and hand-delivered, the Christmas decorations I bought yesterday that still need to be hung up on the tree. The room is somehow suddenly and inexplicably not ready for something as important as Scarlett coming home. Especially now that I have something I want to ask her.

  Will she even be prepared to help me? I daren’t begin to hope that it might be so. Oh, but she’s coming home, though.

  It’s the first part of the puzzle.

  Scarlett

  ‘Scarlett, this is marvellous. Really.’ Eve pats the sheaf of notes that she’s just been flicking through and pulls up a chair on the opposite side of her worktable. ‘Some of these plants are brand new to us. We’re finding out exciting new stuff all the time and your work here has been incredibly useful…’

  Has been. I lean forward on the canvas deck chair – standard issue at PlanetLove base camp – with my head in my hands and wait for the axe to fall.

  ‘So, has Barry relayed anything to you about our current position with Chiquitin-Almeira?’

  ‘I came back with Guillermo in the end, so Barry wasn’t with us.’

  ‘Guillermo Almeira?’

  I nod and my boss brightens visibly. ‘How are you two getting along, Scarlett?’

  I laugh. ‘I think he may have just asked me to marry him.’

  ‘Well, well. Marvellous! Congratulations.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t think he…’

  ‘Yes.’ She taps her short fingernails on her knees, suddenly businesslike. ‘As you know, Chiquitin-Almeira have had interests in our work from the outset, both financial and humanitarian. Without them, we as an operation would cease to exist.’ She pauses. ‘I imagine Guillermo has already told you they’re now scheduled to pull out of the Amazon?’

  My eyes open wide. Gui never said a word about that. Mind you, I reflect, I have only myself to blame because I always steer him away from business talk.

  ‘They are?’

  ‘Worldwide recession and all that. They’ve got to stick with the money spinners – stomach upset pills, sexual performance enhancers – it’s what people want.’ She pauses. ‘Scarlett, I know you’ve been a little homesick recently. I was with you when you sent that postcard to your sister recently, remember? The thought of going home has been on your mind, I know.’

  I stare at her, surprised. ‘Oh.’ It comes back to me suddenly, the monkey postcard with the Santa Claus hat on. I thought it was funny and I haven’t been in contact with Hol all that much since I left. When I scribbled that message on it, I’d only meant it as a kind of half-joke. I had a vague idea I might spend some of my holidays doing some travelling in Europe, so why shouldn’t I spend a day or so with Hol? When I said I’d be ‘coming home for Christmas’ I didn’t mean the whole of it.

  ‘When money’s tight, research is always the first thing to go, and don’t we know it!’ Eve continues. ‘The fact is, PlanetLove are having to cut back too.’

  I look at her tensely. ‘Cut back?’ I swallow. ‘Are you saying you’re letting me go?’ I can’t keep the crushing disappointment out of my voice no matter how hard I try.

  ‘No, that’s not what I want to do.’ She shakes her head. ‘In fact, it’s the last thing I want to do, which is why I’m sending you back first. I’ll explain,’ she says, seeing my confusion. ‘You see this tract of the jungle that we’ve been exploring?’ She turns and indicates the tattered map she’s got pinned up on the tent wall behind her. ‘Here’s us. This part outlined in yellow is the acreage currently managed by Chiquitin-Almeira. We have governmental permission to study and work in all these areas: here, here and here.’

  I look at her blankly. What’s all this got to do with me?

  ‘Chiquitin-Almeira are still interested in our projects. They want us to stay on in this area for as long as we can because they know that, given the rate of deforestation in other areas, in five years this whole ancient tract will be wiped out, clean. The whole of the Yellow Zone will be torn down by either loggers or other developers.’

  The very thought makes my eyes water. I’ve already seen the huge tracts of forest that are being opened up like scars all around us but I thought our bit was safe. I suspect that this is a large part of why the shaman Tunga, José’s father, has been so keen to open up with me – because I was working with the company who’ve vowed to protect his part of the jungle. What the hell am I going to tell him now?

  ‘Look. There is an outside chance that Chiquitin-Almeira will be back on side with us in about a year to eighteen months from now, when the recession eases, but if our Yellow Zone which we’ve become familiar with and the special relationship which we’ve forged with the Yanomami is allowed to slip away in the meantime…’She doesn’t need to finish.

  ‘So you’re saying, if we can hold on till then, it might still be OK? We have to find a way to fend off the developers till we can get some powerful business or governmental backing?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Eve pushes her short springy hair flat back on her head. ‘We need to stall all logging or pipeline building or any other development in thi
s area. One way to do it might be to buy out the area ourselves.’

  ‘ Us? You mean PlanetLove?’ I look at her askance. ‘We’ve got no money, have we?’ Eve runs this operation on a shoestring as it is.

  ‘I mean us – me, you, Barry, and the guys. Whoever we can get to donate funds. The figure we need to reach to buy out the Yellow Zone is one million sterling.’

  I hold in my gasp – she might as well ask for the moon – but Eve’s already continuing. ‘Chiquitin-Almeira have promised us a goodwill stake of £250,000. Barry and I and the guys have come up with ideas that’ll net us maybe £350,000. All we need is the remaining £400,000…’

  ‘£400,000!’ I breathe.

  ‘That’s right, and we’ve got to find it within the next three months because that’s when Chiquitin-Almeira pull out.’

  ‘O-K.’ I let out a breath. I still haven’t been told what any of this has got to do with me leaving but I’m getting the picture it’s all much bigger than me.

  ‘Until such time as they do pull out, we’re still all officially appended as part of the company and in their employ. We’re still entitled to apply for all work permits and visas and such, so I’m asking for everyone’s papers to be renewed while we’re still under their banner. You’re the one with the least amount of time left on yours – so you’re going home first. Renewal shouldn’t take you much more than a month or so, I imagine. We’ll ask Professor Klausmann to confirm all the details are still correct and applicable – he sponsored your place here, didn’t he? It looks better coming from him than from us. Then we’ll send it all off while we still have an employer to name on the form. Chiquitin-Almeira are keeping their plans pretty close to their chest at the moment so there’s no reason for anyone outside to suspect we mightn’t be working for them after the summer.’