Forbidden Sister

by V. C. Andrews

  Chastity nodded, gazed longingly at a dress on one of the mannequins, and followed me. She was looking down all the way. I could feel her depression.

  “You could lose weight and get into one of those dresses someday, Chas,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, but looked helpless.

  “What?”

  “It’s like there’s someone else inside me making me eat all the wrong things,” she said. “Your sister is really very beautiful. If I could be that beautiful, I wouldn’t care if I was an escort or whatever she’s called. I bet she’s having a good time.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s like someone’s slave or something.”

  “You’ve got to talk to her, Emmie. I’m sure there is lots you can learn from her. It’s stupid. Your father is just being a pighead. Don’t listen to him.”

  “I can’t do that,” I said. “If he found out, he’d disown me, too.”

  “Just for that? I doubt it.”

  “You don’t know my father. I told you, we can’t even mention her name.”

  She stopped walking and leaned against the side of the building at the corner just below the boutique and looked thoughtful.

  “Okay,” she said. “Then you have no choice but to keep spying on her and following her. How else will you learn anything about her? Someday she might move away from New York, and the chance for you ever to get to know her will be lost forever and ever.”

  “I know.”

  She was telling me something I thought often.

  “She’s out of the shop,” Chastity announced with renewed excitement, and stepped forward. Roxy was headed our way.

  “Let’s go,” I said, panicking. “She’s sure to see me standing here.”

  “No, quick,” Chastity said, seizing my hand to pull me a little way down the side street. “You look the other way,” she ordered. “I’ll watch for her.”

  I had no choice but to do what she said.

  After a moment, she said, “Okay, she went by. C’mon,” she urged, taking my hand again.

  I put up some resistance, but the truth was, I wanted to go and learn as much as I could about my forbidden sister.

  3

  After another block and a half, Roxy stopped at a restaurant. Less than a minute later, she and another young woman were led out to a table on the sidewalk. Again, I pulled back into a storefront entrance quickly. Chastity did the same.

  “Do you know who she’s with?”

  “How would I possibly know that, Chastity?” Was she just thick, or did she really believe I wasn’t telling her everything I knew?

  “She’s very pretty, too. I bet she’s also an escort. Do you think she’s an escort, too?”

  “I don’t know. I told you, you know as much about my sister now as I do.”

  “Who else would she hang out with? She must be another escort. They’re probably comparing notes. I wonder if they work for the same service. How do you get into such a thing? How much money do they make?” She rattled off all her questions in one breath and then turned to me, expecting answers.

  “Don’t you hear me? I don’t know any more about any of this than you do, Chastity.” I was no longer hiding my annoyance with her.

  She nodded, disappointed. From the way she was looking at my sister and her friend, I could see how much she longed to be as attractive as they were.

  “I bet they have interesting lives,” she muttered. “Just as I said, I bet they even know celebrities and go to exotic places. Just think of it. Lots of movie stars don’t want to be followed and have their picture taken every time they go out. What’s better than an escort service? She must know lots of famous people.”

  What a strange thing was happening, I thought. I didn’t bring Chastity along to get her to idolize my sister. I needed company. If anything, I had expected she would get bored and want to do something else. Now it looked as if I would have trouble getting her to leave. Before I could suggest that we do leave, someone else arrived at my sister’s table.

  He was an elegant-looking man, probably about fifty, dressed in a dark blue velvet sports jacket and a blue tie. Even from where we were standing, we could clearly see that he was tan and handsome. A diamond pinkie ring caught the late-afternoon sun. Both my sister and her friend rose to greet him and be kissed on both cheeks.

  “Is he French?” Chastity asked.

  “How would I know?”

  “Stop saying that,” she snapped.

  “Well, how would I? I can’t hear him, can you?”

  “But isn’t that the way French people kiss?”

  “Lots of people do that now.”

  He sat at their table, and the waitress arrived to take his order. They were all having coffee.

  “I know. I bet he’s their boss or something, or maybe he’s tonight’s gentleman for one of them. Or . . .” Her eyes widened. “Or they’re both going to be with him. It’s a something trois.”

  “Ménage à trois,” I said.

  She looked at me, excited, and nodded. “Yes, that’s it. They’re having a ménage à trois.” She squinted. “What exactly is that anyway? C’mon,” she urged. “Don’t tell me you don’t know. You’re part French.”

  I almost laughed. “You don’t have to be French to have a ménage à trois, Chastity. It’s just a French expression.”

  “For what, exactly?”

  “Why did you say it if you didn’t know what it was?”

  “I know a little,” she said.

  “It’s sex with three willing people. Men like two women; women like two men.”

  “I mean . . . how do they do that? One watches?”

  “That’s as much as I know,” I said firmly. “I think we should go soon. They could be there a long time.”

  “Wait. I have an idea. Your sister doesn’t know me. I could walk by and maybe pick up a few words they’re saying.”

  I started to shake my head.

  “You just head down this street and around the block. I’ll meet you a block down and tell you what I heard.”

  “Don’t let them think you’re listening in, Chastity,” I warned.

  She hesitated. “You don’t think that guy’s dangerous or something, do you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe forget it.”

  She considered and then shook her head. “No. I’ll do it. Go on,” she said, and headed to the corner to cross.

  I watched her for a moment and then hurried down the side street. By the time I came around to head back to Madison Avenue, Chastity was waiting at the corner. She looked as if she would burst with excitement.

  “What?”

  “I was right. He was French. Your sister was speaking French to him, and English, and then they all laughed. I pretended I had something in my shoe so I could listen more, and I heard her say she had a full weekend. I wanted to stay longer, but I think the other woman was looking at me, so I walked away. You think that man was after her, wanted a date?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?” she asked petulantly. I knew she wanted to be the one to make discoveries, and she was the one who had eavesdropped on their conversation. Why would I disagree?

  “It’s not the way an escort service works,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her, or anyone, for that matter, that I had read up on them. “Their schedules are kept, and the clients are screened. They don’t go out on dates.”

  She looked angry now. “So you really do know more about your sister than you’re saying.”

  “No. That’s just general stuff. I don’t know anything specific about her.”

  “So I could be right,” she said, satisfied with herself. “Maybe that man is her favorite or something. Maybe he’s in love with her and wants her to be his and only his.” Her imagination was in a stampede. “He’s going to rescue her from this life and . . . and take her away. Maybe he has an estate in Europe or lives in an old castle or . . .”

  “He looked a lot older, didn’t he?”

  “So?
”

  “Men don’t usually fall in love with girls who sleep with other men for money,” I said.

  That threw her for an instant, and then she brightened with another idea. “Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he’s so in love with her that he would forgive her for anything. Besides, he’s French.”

  “First, he’s not necessarily French because he speaks French, Chastity. My father speaks French very well.”

  “Well, I think he’s French.”

  “And second, that’s a stereotype. Just because someone’s French, it doesn’t mean he or she has fewer morals.”

  She shrugged. “My father thinks so, and he’s a lawyer.”

  “Well, he’s wrong. Besides, what does that say about my mother?”

  “I think he only meant French men.”

  I looked at my watch. “I think I’d better head home,” I said. None of this was making me feel any better.

  “When do you want to do this again? I think we should go there in the evening. I know how,” she added before I could object. “You get permission to stay over my house, and we can go up there whenever we want, stay late and everything. Okay? Maybe this weekend. I heard her say she had a full weekend. We’ll see something important.”

  “I’ll see,” I said.

  Suddenly, I felt terrible about this, and not only because I was doing what would surely disappoint my father. It was like some girl’s younger brother bringing a friend to spy on his older sister when she was getting undressed, taking a bath, or making love with her boyfriend. I hadn’t even spoken to Roxy for years, but suddenly, she was the one I was betraying. It was wrong of me to let someone like Chastity Morgan exploit my sister and use her for her lustful fantasies.

  We started down the avenue.

  “Why don’t you ask your father more about her and find out what she did, exactly? There had to be one big thing that broke the camel’s back, right?”

  “My father won’t talk about Roxy and won’t even permit her name to be mentioned. I told you that. Why don’t you listen to what I tell you?”

  “I wonder how he explains it to people who know.”

  “People don’t know about what she does.”

  “But you said that’s how you and your mother found out about her. Someone your father works with.”

  “My father never told him she was his daughter.”

  “Oh. Wow. That must really drive him crazy. Maybe someday, when you talk to your sister again, you can talk her out of doing what she’s doing.”

  “I doubt it. Look,” I said, stopping, “I’m depending on you to keep this to yourself. If you don’t, I swear I’ll tell people some of the secret things you told me about yourself and what you do.”

  “Of course I won’t talk about it. I promised, didn’t I?”

  “Okay,” I said. We reached the corner where we would separate. “You had better study for tomorrow’s test,” I reminded her.

  “Ugh. Don’t forget to get permission to come over Friday.”

  I nodded and walked away. I didn’t feel at all the way I had expected. Chastity’s excitement and imaginings dominated the entire experience. I had barely looked at Roxy. Chastity saw her up closer than I had, and what’s more, she heard Roxy’s voice, her laughter. Rather than fill me with any excitement and pleasure, the entire event depressed me. I made up my mind to come up with some excuse for why I couldn’t go to her house on Friday.

  In the meantime, I thought I might find a way to return to Roxy’s hotel by myself. It might mean more lying, I thought, but I couldn’t help it. Now that I had bitten the apple, I wanted the whole thing. I wanted to know more about her, and even though I wouldn’t admit it, I wanted her to know more about me.

  I had been hoping to get home before my father arrived. Most weekdays, he didn’t get home from work until just before dinner, but today he was already there. I was frightened because his presence was unexpected, and I thought maybe, just maybe, he had thought to have me followed after school or something. Maybe he didn’t believe anything I had said at breakfast. I could barely breathe when he looked at me, but I knew I had better do all I could not to look guilty about anything.

  “Why do you look so disturbed?” he asked me immediately, however. Papa was great at reading faces, especially mine.

  “I wasted my time studying with them,” I said. “All they wanted to do was gossip. Now I have to work harder tonight for tomorrow.”

  Papa’s eyebrows rose, and then he laughed. “She’s a chip off my old block, all right.”

  I breathed with relief, but I was still nervous. I hadn’t lied this much to either of my parents until now.

  “I’ll just put my things away and come down to help you with dinner, Mama,” I said.

  “No need. It’s all done, Emmie. We’ll call you when it’s time to eat.”

  I nodded and hurried up to my room. I did try to study, but my mind kept wandering back to Roxy. I had always struggled with memories, trying to conjure up anything that would remind me of her. Because I was so young when she left, it took me a while to understand that she was no longer there. I remembered asking about her, but Papa wouldn’t respond, and Mama always told me to do something else or pay attention to something else. I vaguely recalled going into her room to look for her. After a while, she seemed to drift out of my young mind like a passing dream.

  She was still dreamlike to me, even after seeing her as much as I had today. How could she look so beautiful and vibrant if she were all that Papa said she was? Maybe most of it wasn’t true. Maybe she was just living on her own with her own friends and had a good job. After all, I thought, how would Papa know? He didn’t want to know anything about her.

  Or did he?

  Was he secretly keeping an eye on her?

  What if I went back to the hotel and he was doing what I was doing? What if he were somewhere nearby watching for her and he saw me? He’d be very angry, but he wouldn’t want me to know he was there, too.

  He was more cheerful than usual at dinner. His financial moves had gone well for him today at his investment-banking firm, and he was talking again about an early retirement and our moving out of the city.

  “We’ll be in lots better shape than my brother. That’s for sure,” he said.

  My uncle was almost as unmentionable as Roxy these days. From what I understood, Uncle Orman sided with my grandfather and was highly critical of Papa for not pursuing an Army career as their father and their grandfather and great-grandfather had. Papa could have been a candidate for West Point.

  In my father’s family, when you broke a tradition, it was like breaking an egg. There was no way to put it back together.

  I guess I should have expected that Chastity would call me in the evening. Her imagination was taking her in all sorts of directions. First, she saw us as amateur detectives.

  “We’ve got to find out more about the escort service. I thought of a way. We need to bring someone else in on this, too.”

  “What? Why? Who?”

  “A boy. We need a boy’s voice.”

  “A boy’s voice? Why?”

  “Well, I was thinking, what if we do find out the name of the service and the telephone number? We could get this boy to call and pretend he wants a date with your sister. You told me her French name. If he’s told she’s booked that night, we’ll know, and we can watch to see who picks her up, get the license number or something.”

  “Chastity, you’re running away with yourself. We’re not detectives. We couldn’t find out anything if we knew someone’s license number. What’s the point?”

  “I think I can. My uncle Tommy is a city policeman, isn’t he?”

  She made my heart flutter. “Forget that,” I said. “You’re thinking of things that will make this all worse for me. We don’t tell anyone, especially some boy from our school, about my sister, understand? And if you went to your uncle . . . he might call both our parents. Promise me you won’t even think of such a thing again,” I demanded. �
�Promise, or I’ll never do anything with you again.”

  “Oh . . .”

  I was silent.

  “Okay, okay. Don’t bust a blood vessel.” She took a breath and went right on to a new fantasy. “I wonder if there is such a thing for girls our age.”

  “What? What thing?”

  “An escort service. I don’t mean young girls for older men,” she added quickly. “But how about an escort service for high school boys? We might be able to organize it. I bet we could make a lot of money.”

  “That’s even more ridiculous, Chastity.”

  “No, it isn’t. There are plenty of boys today who are pretty awkward when it comes to dating and things. They’d love to pay to have everything arranged. And don’t say it’s illegal. If it was illegal, your sister would be in jail, right?”

  I suddenly realized I might have created a monster. “I don’t know, Chastity. And don’t ask your father!” I added.

  “I won’t, but I think it’s a very exciting idea.”

  “You should just study for the test tomorrow, Chastity. You’re getting crazy. Let’s forget about my sister for a while.”

  “What do you mean? We’re going back up there, aren’t we? I heard her say she had a full weekend.”

  “No,” I said. “I decided it’s not a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “I want to think more about it first.”

  “Well, that’s not fair. You got me into this, and now you just want to stop?”

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” I said quickly. “I really want to study.”

  “That’s not fair,” she repeated, and hung up.

  I was actually shaking. She’s going to cause some sort of trouble, I thought. I have to find a way to keep her satisfied. Papa was always fond of saying, “Two can keep a secret if one is dead.” Now I was afraid I had trusted someone too much. Chastity and I had been drawn together out of a common need for a best friend. My life was so restricted, so controlled, most of the girls in my class considered me a waste of time. Chastity was usually ignored or forgotten whenever it came to parties or get-togethers. We just seemed to gravitate toward each other.

  We both felt safe talking and fantasizing about boys and men we knew we would never really speak to, much less have any sort of intimate relationship with. Romance for us was still something kept at a distance, a dream. Other girls our age whom we knew weren’t much more sophisticated, and most of them were virgins, but for some reason, our virginity had a capital V. I could feel it in the way boys and other girls looked at us, especially me.