A Sister’s Gift

by Giselle Green

  I go and sit down at my desk, letting my head sink into my hands. Since we got back after Christmas, my desk has grown ever more crowded with papers and files. It’s depressing. I don’t want to even look at any of them. When I get up and go to the high arched windows the stone surround feels cool under my fingertips while the radiator underneath it belts out a huge amount of heat, warming up my legs. Medieval buildings weren’t designed to be economically centrally heated, I remember Ben Spenlow telling me the first day I arrived here – ten years ago now, when I took over Auntie Flo’s job here at the Trust after she passed away. It’s mainly administrative, what I do – sorting our charity applications, taking minutes, greeting our visitors – not what I ever imagined I’d end up doing for a job though I have been happy here. When Flo died I should have been finishing off my final year at Canterbury University but I had to give that up -we needed the money.

  I took over Flo’s job of looking after my sister at the same time, I muse. Scarlett was only thirteen and Flo had been the only mum she’d ever known. After Flo died she’d gone through a really difficult teenage stage. That was really hard for me. I wasn’t all that old myself, only twenty-one. We got through that though, didn’t we? We’ll get through this.

  ‘Aha! Just the person I was hoping to see…’ Beatrice Highland’s plummy tones cut through my reverie; she’s caught me staring out of the window when I should be tackling my paper mountain. I stifle a cough.

  ‘Oh! Beatrice – sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was in this morning. I’d have offered to make you a drink.’ I make a quick show of sorting out some paperwork that has somehow found its way onto the window ledge. ‘Such a lot to catch up on…’ I mutter.

  ‘Indeed, things have been moving apace here since Christmas.’ Beatrice joins me at the window and I shuffle up a bit. With her long tweed skirt and her archaic way of speaking it’s easy to imagine Beatrice travels here from next door every morning in a time tunnel from the fifties.

  ‘Any sign of our new bridge picture being framed?’

  ‘Soon.’ I look away guiltily. Chrissie hadn’t even begun framing it last time I asked her. My mother-in-law’s had her hands so full with Rich’s dad being unwell. I should have just taken it locally but I wanted to give her the work. ‘I hear they’re hanging it up by the front entrance, is that right?’

  ‘That’s correct.’ Working with someone who’s also my neighbour can have its disadvantages: she knows me too well, for one. ‘You don’t approve of our choice of location for it? I thought it would look marvellous there. That way everyone will see it.’

  ‘Oh no, the location’s fine. It’s me. It’s just me. I find the picture a little bit…scary, that’s all.’

  ‘My dear, it is a work of art.’

  ‘I know,’ I tell her miserably, because what do I know about art? ‘Anyway, I’m…I’m really sorry about all this mess, Bea. I know that with the bridge being shut there’s been even more paperwork to get through than usual. I’ll get it sorted soon though, I promise.’

  ‘Everything is all right, dear, isn’t it?’ She takes me in a little more closely. ‘You don’t seem quite yourself, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m fine, honestly. I just…’I look at my desk intently as if I’m really interested in the huge report from the bridge engineers that’s appeared on my desk over the weekend. Oh, what the heck. Bea’s known the family for decades. She’s going to learn about the surrogacy soon enough.

  ‘I’ll let you in on something, Bea. Scarlett’s offered to be my surrogate for me. She’s going to have a baby for Rich and me.’

  ‘Good grief.’ Beatrice Highland looks shocked. ‘That’s…marvellous, my dear. What a hugely charitable offer. I can’t think of anything greater a woman could give her sister…’

  ‘Yep.’ I’m not going to mention the small fact that Scarlett has just asked me to give up my home in return. Beatrice would be scandalised.

  ‘And – if you pardon my making the observation – I wouldn’t have put Scarlett down as a natural candidate for such an offer.’ My boss picks up a discarded tea mug and holds it delicately by its handle. ‘She’s a lovely girl, your sister, so full of life and joie de vivre, but…I’ve never had her down as patient and persevering and just generally the self-sacrificing type, you know?’

  ‘No, I know what you mean,’ I give a small laugh. Beatrice has known Scarlett since she was a child so there’s no point trying to pull the wool over her eyes. ‘She’s…she’s always been a bit of a wild child.’

  ‘A free spirit,’ she rejoins. ‘A butterfly…’

  ‘Yes,’ I concur. ‘All those things. Not a natural earth mother sort, I agree. But she says she’s changed.’

  Scarlett’s got an agenda of her own to fulfil too, I remember now, frowning. She’s got her second family on her mind as much as anyone else. Scarlett’s words come back to me now: ‘It’s a large part of the reason why I agreed to help you’.

  I find another tea mug underneath a loose-leaf file and collect my boss’ mug from her hands. I need to escape and go and get these washed.

  ‘She says being in the Amazon has made her more aware of others and less selfish and she wanted to do this for us so…Well, we’ll see.’

  ‘If she really has grown up that much it’ll be a marvel,’ Bea mutters, almost to herself. ‘Anyhow, with a bit of luck she’ll conceive easily, and given that she does like her freedom, I don’t suppose handing the child over will be too much of a wrench either. Goodness, that does sound dreadful, I didn’t mean it like that…’

  ‘No, that’s perfectly all right…’ I rush in. Nobody can say that Beatrice doesn’t have the measure of my sister at any rate. ‘To be honest,’ I confide, ‘the waiting around to find out if she’s pregnant or not has been a bit of a strain on all of us. But never mind that, I’m here now and I need filling in on what’s happened while I’ve been away…’

  ‘Lots of engineering tests, mainly.’ She rubs her hands together briskly. ‘The mountain of paperwork stacking up on your desk is testimony to the fact that we have not been idle.’ She gets up and goes to peer out of the window again where I join her. You can’t see the bridge from here because my office is too far round the corner but you can see the river. We gaze out, silent for a bit, watching the eddies and the swirls in the river flow.

  ‘It’s going to take a little while to sort it all, isn’t it?’

  ‘Indeed. Sometimes, my dear, we know what the problem is but we don’t always know straightaway what’s going to be the best solution.’ She gets up as the phone in her own office begins to trill. ‘Sometimes, the first thing that springs to mind – the thing we want to go for – brings along a whole rack of problems of its own, do you see?’

  She leaves me and I go to put on the kettle. When I return my own phone is going and I almost don’t pick it up. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to pretend I’m my usual efficient, helpful self. I leave it to ring seven times before I realise that they aren’t going to go away.

  ‘Hello?’ I answer more sharply than I intend to, so it’s a relief when it’s just Scarlett at the other end.

  ‘Hi. It’s me.’ Pause.

  What, what? Is she going to apologise to me now? Is she going to say that she didn’t really mean all those things she said to me before? My heart is thudding so loudly in my chest I put my hand over it. I need to hear her say that she didn’t mean any of it. That she really did do this for me and Rich and not just to get her hands on that money. I pause, waiting for the words to come.

  ‘Hollie, I’m not pregnant, OK?’ She spills it all out in a rush like it will hurt less that way.

  ‘OK.’ I blink back a tear.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Her voice is anxious. ‘I thought you’d want to know as soon as I did.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Why, why couldn’t it just have worked for once? Why couldn’t it just be easy?

  ‘I thought I was pregnant. I could have sworn that I was, I did one of those earl
y tests, you know, you can find out just a few days after conception now, you don’t have to wait…’

  ‘You did?’ I ask faintly.

  ‘Yes. And the first one I did, it was positive, I’m sure I read it right. I knew you wanted to wait till things were more certain so I didn’t say till now but then today…’ she trails away, flat and disappointed. ‘I tested it again after we spoke. I’m not pregnant. I don’t understand.’

  ‘These things happen, Scarlett.’ I’m back into pretend mode. I’m so good at covering up my feelings, at telling everyone ‘Oh, I wasn’t really expecting anything’, that I could almost fool myself.

  ‘Yeah,’ she says. She sounds almost disappointed

  ‘So…’ I hold my breath. ‘Are you willing to stay and try once again?’

  Can I really go through with this all over again, another month?

  ‘Scarlett?’

  ‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ she says. ‘Learning I wasn’t in the will came on top of a whole lot of other bad news, that’s all. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’ She stops and I don’t know what to say because if I open my mouth she will hear that I’m crying.

  There’s a pause. While we both get it back together I randomly pick up the folder that Beatrice has just balanced on top of the pile on my desk: ‘Suggested solutions for bridge repair. Long- and short-term strategies.’ It looks like a lengthy document. Every potential solution seems to have a whole list of ‘considerations’ attached to it. No wonder they can’t decide. The worst thing is, I feel so disconnected from it all at the moment. I really don’t feel as if I even care. And I should care. I never wanted this desire to have a baby to turn into an obsession. I never thought that it could become so big it would crowd out each and every other thing in my life that holds some meaning for me but somehow it has, it is. The silence stretches out for so long I begin to think Scarlett must have got cut off or gone away and answered the door or something.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ she says.

  ‘Are you willing to stay?’

  ‘I guess I have to really, don’t I?’

  ‘No, you don’t have to.’

  ‘I don’t want to let Rich down, Hollie. Or you. I promised you I’ll do it and I will, only…’

  ‘Only what?’ I tense.

  ‘I really, really need to get together those funds we spoke about for PlanetLove,’ she cajoles. ‘If I’m going to carry on putting my energies into getting pregnant for you it makes it kind of difficult for me to spread myself so thinly.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It would really help me to know – if I don’t manage to pull together the funds any other way – I’ll have your support?’

  My sigh of relief is laced with trepidation. Who am I kidding? Having this child matters to me more than anything.

  ‘If it comes to that, Scarlett…’I tell her at last.

  OK, so she’ll stay. I don’t have the luxury of a load of potential solutions like the bridge engineers do. Scarlett is the solution to the problem which I’ve been facing for so long, and I don’t want to let my last chance slip away.

  I can’t.

  Hollie

  ‘She’s there, isn’t she?’

  Who wants my sister now? I feel myself bristle slightly at the caller’s tone. Ten days to go before we find out if Scarlett’s pregnant at her second attempt or not and who could this be, ringing up and demanding so abruptly to speak to her?

  ‘I want to speak to your sister please, Hollie.’ Then I recognise his voice.

  Oh no, not him again! Why did I even pick up the phone?

  I was already dreading this morning enough. I had no idea it was about to get much worse.

  I’m not going to let this guy faze me. I pick up the towel which I have no intention of using and roll it into a cylinder to pack into my bag, along with the swimming cossie Scarlett’s insisted on buying me. My sister’s decided that my sessions with Mr Huang are taking too long and what I need to do is go down to the local pool ‘even if you don’t go in because it’ll help you get used to the idea’.

  ‘Look, Duncan – this really isn’t the best time.’

  ‘She’s there right now. I just saw her walking in the garden.’ I stiffen, edging slowly away from the window with the phone in my hand. Is it true, did he see her just now, looking for snowdrops under the dappled shade of the silver birch? And if Duncan can see her, then where must he be?

  ‘This is beginning to sound like stalking, Duncan.’ He knows we’re both in the house; a shiver of discomfort works its way down my neck.

  ‘I’m not threatening either of you, am I?’ he says nastily. ‘I’m making a phone call to an old friend. I was passing and I saw her. You never bothered replying to any of my emails and I’ve been waiting for her call and…’

  ‘She doesn’t want any contact with you, Duncan. That’s why you haven’t heard from us.’ I’d forgotten all about his emails -he’s sent a couple through after Christmas as well, but there’s been so much else going on in the past few weeks I haven’t had time to think about him.

  The truth is, Scarlett’s been really peed off with having to take her temperature and start up the regime all over again so I never even mentioned his emails to her. Should I put him onto her now? I always get such a creepy feeling about this guy…

  ‘Look,’ I try and keep my voice pleasant, ‘she’s moved on now, Duncan. You really need to let her go. My sister’s got a boyfriend now too,’ I add for good measure (not that she’s made too much of that, herself). ‘Someone she’s serious about.’

  ‘You think I’m not serious about her?’

  ‘I think you’re…’ I want to say deluded, but I don’t want to incite him. ‘You’re mistaken about things. She’s moved on.’

  ‘Moved on.’ Duncan repeats slowly ‘Maybe. But I’m only hearing all of this from you, aren’t I? Look – I’m afraid I’ve done something a little bit foolish, Hollie.’ His voice has turned sheepish now. ‘And I need to speak to her. Give me her mobile number at least, I’ll call her myself…’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that.’ Stop being so stubborn, a little voice in my head says now. Give him her number and let them sort whatever it is out between them.

  ‘You aren’t going to stand in the way of what I need to say to your sister, Hollie. Stop trying to protect her like you always did. She’s not your little sister any more. In fact, you aren’t protecting her, you know that?’ His voice takes on a new energy. ‘By standing between us you’re only making things worse.’

  ‘What do you mean, “like I always did”?’ I retort. I’ve got a cold shiver running down my spine at the moment and my previous thoughts about putting him on the phone to her melts in the stream. He was her boyfriend for a short while. She might have told him things about us – personal, family things – that he thinks he can use against me now. I protected her, of course I did, what older sister wouldn’t have done the same…?

  ‘She’s still got her promise to fulfil to me, don’t forget.’

  ‘What promise?’ I glance out of the window and I can spy Scarlett now, her cheeks ruddy and her hair windblown, her sketchbook under her arm, tramping back down the path. She’s been sketching the February snowdrops, I can just about make them out from the delicate green and white colouring on her pad. ‘Snowdrops for hope and consolation,’ Auntie Flo would have said. But there’s none of that here for this man. She made a promise to me too, I think. And mine’s more important than yours.

  ‘She knows what she owes me. She won’t have forgotten, I promise you that.’

  ‘Duncan,’ I work at keeping my voice reasonable, ‘even if she did promise you something, ages ago…she obviously hasn’t kept in contact and clearly has no intention of fulfilling it, whatever it is. So what can you do about it?’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything.’ His voice is blurry at the edges and I wonder if he’s been drinking. ‘But do you think…you think that we ever get away with anything in t
his life? We don’t, you know. Not ever. She won’t, either.’

  ‘If you’re threatening her…’

  ‘I wouldn’t harm a hair on her head, Hollie. Believe me. I wouldn’t risk the bad karma. I believe in Uni…’ he’s slurring now ‘…in Universal Law, you see. I believe that the bad deeds we do come home to roost.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Bloody hell, this man really is some prize fruitcake. My sister knows how to pick them, that’s for sure.

  ‘Do you remember all those red balloons we sent up for charity in the autumn? The wish balloons?’ he continues now. ‘Well…I sent a special message for Scarlett in my one.’

  ‘She’ll never get that, Duncan!’ I might be talking to a four-year-old. ‘Only a fraction of those things ever reach their target recipient and, frankly, as far as I could see, none of those red balloons were ever meant to. Nobody was putting any addresses on the envelopes, were they? It was all more of a “sign of intent,” a wish for somebody, that’s all.’

  ‘I didn’t have to put her address on it,’ he says confidently. ‘The universe knows where she’s at.’

  The universe, right.

  ‘That balloon will find her all right. And when it does, she’ll bring herself to justice in the end. I won’t have to do a thing.’ ‘What did you write?’

  There’s a long pause now. When he comes back, his voice sounds deflated, sapped of all its former determination. ‘Five words, Hollie. Just five little words. But she’ll know what they mean.’

  ‘Listen, Duncan. Listen to me.’ I lower my voice as the French doors open and I hear my sister pulling off her boots on the mat.

  ‘You listen.’ He suddenly changes gear again. ‘I know what’s important to your sister – her job, right? You think I don’t know that? I went out with that girl for six months. I cared for her.’ His voice wobbles. ‘But you mark my words. I’ve got intel that could pull that job right out from under her. Just imagine. I could discredit her so as she’d never be able to go back to her precious seeds in the rainforest again. Everything she’s worked so hard for – it’ll come tumbling down about her ears like a pack of cards…’