Sunlight finds a way to overcome my bedroom blinds and pokes itself through the gaps in the wooden slats. As I turn over in my bed, my head screams in pain. Oh God, why did I drink so much wine last night? My dry tongue tries to unstick itself from the roof of my mouth while my stomach considers serving the contents of my gut with an eviction notice. With a groan I rub my sore eyes and think back over the chain of events which led to this fragile state.
It had been a long trek back to Dad’s house after Noah had made his sudden and unexpected departure from our rock. I’d climbed down with anger coursing through my veins. I was cross with myself for engaging in that impromptu kiss. Why did he get up and leave like that? What had I done? He was a heartbreaker and hadn’t changed after twenty years. Noah Coombes should come with a health warning.
On the way back I’d crossed the promenade and spotted Phoebe with her two children. Flynn was having a tantrum and refusing to go home. His shouts and screams had made me cast weary Phoebe a friendly smile. She waved me over. Her eldest, Martha, was sat on the bench looking angelic. Her little brother clung to the little green beach telescope, yelling, ‘NO, MUMMY. I AM STAYING HERE.’
‘As you can see, I am having fun,’ Phoebe said, with an eye roll at Flynn. ‘How’s your Sunday?’
I groaned. ‘Don’t ask. I’m so cross and fed up.’
She grinned. ‘Listen, how do you fancy a few drinks tonight at mine? I fancy a good gossip and a moan.’
Dad was home and he could babysit Lucas for me. Plus, I had the day off tomorrow so there would be no need to get up early. ‘I would love that.’
‘Alice!’ I heard someone shout my name. Turning around I saw that it was Esme marching toward us. In her hand she was clutching the book I’d dropped into the shop for her a few days ago. ‘I’ve read it,’ she cried, holding it aloft. ‘I now want to change my entire life.’
Phoebe smiled at Esme. ‘We’re going to have a girl’s night in tonight – do you want to come, Esme?’
That was how Esme, Phoebe and I found ourselves in Phoebe’s living room hours later, drinking far too many glasses of wine.
I remember Esme sat on Phoebe’s sofa talking about the book I’d lent her to read. ‘That book has triggered what can only be described as a volcanic eruption. I felt shaky and sick as I was reading it. Celia Black held up a mirror as I saw myself in the main character of Lola. All I have done in my life to date is seek the approval and validation of others, mainly my sister and my parents who aren’t even alive anymore.’
Phoebe and I had both stared at Esme who was changing before our eyes. ‘This will sound a bit random,’ said Esme, ‘but stay with me. What’s the word for one of those things that goes onto the side of a motorbike. It has wheels, a person sitting inside it but it is attached to the bike.’
‘Sidecar?’ Phoebe suggested.
Esme nodded. ‘I don’t want to be my sister’s sidecar anymore.’
I stared at Esme and at the wine bottle. How much wine had Esme been glugging as that was a bit of a random thing to say.
‘In our sister relationship, Joy has been the motorbike and I have been her sidecar for too long,’ exclaimed Esme. ‘In life I want to be the motorbike. I don’t want to be someone’s sidecar.’
‘This is deep,’ I said, which made them both laugh. ‘Can someone check how strong the wine is.’
Esme grinned. ‘Sorry, ladies, I do love a random analogy when I’m drunk.’
Phoebe nodded. ‘No one should have to be a sidecar in life. What are you going to do?’
Esme held up her long dark tresses. ‘I’m going to cut my hair first.’
I poured us all another glass of wine. ‘Esme, I have never understood the hair issue. Explain it to us.’
Esme took a large gulp of her drink. ‘Mum always wanted Joy and me to dress and look the same. She loved us being twins. Joy believes we should carry on Mum’s wishes.’
Phoebe stared in horror at Esme. ‘I am shocked at Joy. She sounds so controlling.’
Esme nodded. ‘She’s been like this all my life. When we were kids, our parents reminded us regularly that Joy was the boss because she was the older twin – by fourteen minutes and thirty-six seconds, to be precise. Our mother was always quick to point out Joy hadn’t spent the first few years of her life in and out of hospital with an array of infections, like I had; and she hadn’t been referred to as theweakertwin by the medical profession for the first five years of her life. Joy grew up being conditioned as the twin who was the boss, and I grew up knowing I was the weaker one.’ Esme raised her glass. ‘Not anymore though, ladies.’
‘So, tomorrow you are going to cut your hair, and then…?’ Phoebe asked.
‘I’m also going to tell Joy I am not leaving Blue Cove Bay.’
Phoebe and I exchanged worried glances. This was a huge step for Esme. We pulled her into a group hug. ‘Esme, we’re here if you need us,’ I said.
‘Thanks both,’ gushed Esme before draining her glass. ‘I need more wine.’
The conversation moved on to Phoebe and Liam, the owner of the record shop. ‘Are you still at war with Liam?’ Esme asked Phoebe.
‘What does he look like?’ I asked, trying to imagine Liam. The last music shop in Blue Cove Bay had closed years ago and it had been run by a little chap with long hair and an even longer beard.
