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“I liked the job I had.”
“You can’t spend the rest of your life working in coffee shops or animal shelters. You should have studied for a profession like your sister, although you’re far too old now, even if you did go back to finish your degree.”
“I don’t want to go back to college. And I’m only twenty-four.”
“Ellen’s daughter is twenty-four and she has qualified as a doctor. She’s saving lives! And what are you doing with your day?”
“I’ve put in a hundred applications in the last four months, but there are thousands of people applying for every job. Most of the time people don’t even reply. It’s soul destroying.”
“All the more reason why you should have done a proper training like your sister, but you’ve missed that boat now.”
Martha had a mental image of a flotilla of boats floating into the distance. She badly wanted to be on one of them. Preferably sunbathing while someone poured her an iced drink.
“Thanks for making me feel better.”
“Well, if your own mother can’t tell you the truth, who can? But there’s no point in sitting around and moping about the bad decisions you made. You should go running wi
th your sister.”
Running with her sister would be another bad decision. Not only would it mean leaving the house, which meant bumping into Steven, but Martha would lag behind, which was pretty much the story of her life. She’d always been ten steps behind her sister, and there was no chance of her forgetting that.
Martha knew she wasn’t as pretty as her sister. She wasn’t as thin as her sister. She didn’t make great choices like her sister.
She knew all the things she wasn’t but wasn’t sure what she was, apart from sturdy.
She made a great cappuccino and was good at talking, but that was more of a flaw than a skill. Martha would talk the hind leg off a donkey her mother would say, a statement accompanied by an exaggerated eye roll. If there was an award for who talked the most, Martha would win it.
She might not be as smart as her sister, but she knew enough to understand that living with people who made you feel worse about yourself wasn’t good for the soul. She needed a job and a little place of her own, but there was no chance of either in London.
After everything that had happened, she’d had no choice but to move back with her parents. She hoped they didn’t reach the point where they killed each other.
“Hi, Martha!” Pippa bounced down the stairs, hair swinging in a sleek ponytail. “How is Steven? Still behaving like a shit?”
She couldn’t even lose at love without her sister knowing.
Martha looked gloomily at the shiny ponytail. Pippa even won at hair.
“Pippa! Don’t you look a picture.” Their mother beamed. “Are you off to work? Treating anyone famous today?”
“Day off. I have a yoga class in thirty minutes. I need something to eat before I leave.” Pippa headed for the kitchen and Martha followed her.
She’d made cupcakes the day before using her grandmother’s favorite recipe, and there were still a couple left. She offered one to her sister who shook her head.
“No thanks. I’m making myself a green smoothie.”
Winning at the healthy diet too, Martha thought, watching as her sister dropped apple, spinach, cucumber and various other healthy ingredients into the blender and proceeded to whiz it together into an unappetizing-looking pale green liquid. If Martha had found a blob of it on the kitchen surface she would have covered it in antibacterial spray.
Her mother reappeared. “Don’t forget to clean the kitchen floor, Martha.”
Her life was so exciting she could hardly bear it.
She finished the cupcake and unlocked the back door. Across the fence she saw their elderly neighbor, Abigail Hartley, struggling to hang her sheets on the line. The edges were hanging perilously close to the ground.
“I’ll do that for you, Mrs. Hartley.” Martha sprinted round the side of the house and into the adjoining garden. “You shouldn’t be doing that with your arthritis.”
“You’re a kind girl, Martha.”
“It’s no trouble.” At least Abigail thanked her for helping with laundry. In her own house everyone took it for granted.
