Page 49

‘Well,’ she stutters, ‘I’m glad you got that off your chest. It’s important to own your truth. I learned that in Thailand. Can we make a move, please? I’m very tired… from waiting for so long. I’m thirsty and looking forward to a dip in the pool.’

Just like that. No apology, nothing.

I watch as she opens the car boot and struggles to get the cases in. She beckons over to me for help. I stay firmly where I am.

Let her bloody struggle. My hand is literally stuck to my hip refusing to move anyway. Fused to the bone with anger. Then to my extreme annoyance we hear, ‘Perdona, señorita.’

We turn to see a Señor Handsome Bugger, sporting both a lazy smile and a head of bouncy, thick wavy hair, who deftly lifts my sister’s bags and cases into the boot as though they weigh no more than one of his toe rings. He shuts the boot with a slam, turns to give me a hard, disapproving stare, and then turns back to my sister to wish her a pleasant stay. Within seconds, I witness some outrageous, devil-may-care flirting as she tells him our bloody address, says she’d absolutely love to go for drinks with him and then gives him her phone to do some swapping of numbers. After an embarrassing series of selfies, where they take turns doing the peace sign, pretending to laugh and sticking out their tongues, she is finally ready to go.

Dear God! Has she no shame?

To make matters worse, after she’s eyed up his retreating buttocks, she turns unexpectedly and catches me tapping my third eye like a loon. The stress of seeing her has got me so rattled that I’m tearing at my scalp, causing a snowstorm of flakes to land on my shoulders. Ava slowly shakes her head, taking it all in, with contempt, or maybe it’s pity, ballooning from her big green eyes.

‘Come here,’ she says, with her arms open wide and a terrible sympathetic look saddening her face. I can see actual tears in her eyes as she quickens her pace towards me. She feels sorry for me. She has the bare-faced cheek to throw her arms around me, sobbing out how much she has missed me and is here to help me get better.

‘Get better? Me? Get better?’ My hand flies to clutch my pounding chest. I’m struggling to breathe. I open the driver’s door and throw myself in. Ignoring the shakes I’ve developed, I start the engine. My sister gingerly walks to the passenger side without comment.

I drive roughly out of the car park area and clip the side of the car on the barriers. Without even looking, I know there’ll be a scrape on the paintwork. All totally her fault. I will inform Dad. There’s absolutely no point telling our mother. At least our father has always tried to treat us equally.

We drive in complete silence and without air-con, in a deliberate move on my part, so that she is as uncomfortable as possible. We are both dripping with sweat, our legs stuck to the leather car seats.

‘If the air-con is broken, I’ll just open the window,’ she says, pressing the switch to lower the glass and let the cool breeze in.

‘No!’ I shout, pressing the master switch to halt the window and make it go back up again. Serves her right. She flinches and sits back, keeping her hands tucked between her knees where I can see them. Once we are through the toll booth and well en route, I see a filling station up ahead and pull in.

‘You’ll have to pay,’ I say curtly. ‘I paid on the way here.’

‘You filled up on the way to the airport, but only put in enough to cover a one-way trip?’ she asks, confused. She turns in her seat to face me. ‘So that I could put an equal amount in on the way back?’

‘Yes,’ I lie. I mean, that’s not so unusual is it, surely? She’s deliberately making it sound weird. She’d better not make a huge deal out of paying.

Her expression softens. ‘Are things that bad? Financially, I mean. I’d heard that life coaches don’t make much.’

I gawp at her. See how she twists things? This would be a good time to remind her that usually, following a shock redundancy, one is out of fecking pocket until the twatting company can be bothered to eventually pay up. My team and I were herded out so quickly that I can’t even remember any details about the financial package we were offered or when we would receive it.

As I unpeel from the seat with a loud squelch and swing my legs out of the car, I slam the door behind me. I can feel her piteous gaze on me as I grab the petrol nozzle roughly from the pump. I watch as she calmly opens the passenger door and walks over to the petrol station doors, which swish open to let her glide through.

I am totally losing the plot here. It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I cannot believe how awful and petty I am being and yet, I feel powerless to stop it.

I fill the tank and get back in the car. Jeez, but it’s boiling in here. I turn the engine back on and quickly blast some cool air around. I’m absolutely baking. My throat is as dry as a bone, my head throbs with the heat and all I can taste is stale wine.

I must rise above this. I must. I will continue the rest of the journey with as much decorum as I can muster.

The sliding doors swish open and I see my sister nigh-on skipping back to the car, all happiness and carrier bags. Not a remorseful bone in her entire body.

I quickly switch off the air-con before she gets in, and as she takes her seat and starts rummaging about in the bags, I speed off, sending her flying into the dashboard. As she lets out an annoyed yelp, I smile serenely, as if I’d simply not even noticed.

Now I will rise above it. That was the last blip. Decorum, I’m all yours.

‘I bought you this,’ Ava says, holding out an ice lolly. She knows I love a good ice lolly. This is one of those extra fruity toxic orange and red ones. Full of hazardous chemicals and diabetes, I think. So unhealthy for you. How typical of her to forget I hold my physical wellbeing in the highest regard.

I’d bloody kill for it right now.

‘No thanks,’ I say stiffly. I’m so parched my tongue feels ready to blister at any moment.

‘It’ll just melt,’ she says, coaxing me like I’m a sulky child. ‘Go on, just have a bite to cool you down. It’s low-calorie. Real fruit juice. No chemicals.’

I drive in silence, watching out the corner of my eye, tormented as she slurps noisily away and takes selfies with her licking the lolly suggestively for her followers. She’s already removed most of her clothing, so it looks like it’s simply blown off in the wind.