No Sister of Mine (ARC) Read online

to take things slowly this time. To try being boyfriend and girlfriend, but not lovers, not yet, and to see what happened.

  ‘About time you two got together,’ Beth said, when I told her. We were sitting on a wall

  in the sunshine, outside the shop, sharing a packet of chocolate buttons. ‘It’s been pretty

  obvious he fancies the pants off you for weeks.’

  ‘My pants are still very firmly in place, thank you very much.’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean. And who’d judge you if they weren’t? Certainly not me.

  It’s not as if Lenny and me have kept ours on!’ She laughed, giving me a nudge in the ribs. ‘So, 45

  if you need any advice about . . . well, the pill or anything, then just ask. It’s easy enough to get from the campus doc. No questions asked.’

  ‘Thanks, Beth, but I’m all right.’

  ‘Already taken care of, eh?’ She picked out the last two buttons from the bottom of the

  bag, held one out to me and swallowed the other. ‘Good girl. Best to be sensible.’

  I felt myself blush. Sex wasn’t something I was used to talking about, not to friends,

  and especially not to some strange doctor, and as far as I was concerned being sensible still

  meant not doing it in the first place, not taking the risk. Josh understood that. Or at least, I hoped he did. And, for the time being, just learning about each other, slowly discovering the

  joys of kissing, proper kissing with the feel of lips and placement of tongues, the warmth of

  our faces pressed closely together, was enough. For me, anyway.

  Oh, I knew Josh was no virgin. He’d confessed to brief flings with at least two girls

  back home while he was still at school, and one or two one-night stands at uni, but nothing that had lasted, nothing that really meant anything. I suppose, deep down, I had hopes that I might

  be the one to change that, the one worth waiting for.

  ‘So, when’s the next date then? Only, Lenny’s mate Steve is having a party on Saturday.

  Off campus, but easy enough to find. We could share a taxi maybe? Save hanging about for

  buses. I know he wouldn’t mind the two of you tagging along. As long as you bring beer,

  obviously.’

  ‘I’ll ask.’

  ‘Eve, you really haven’t got the hang of this dating lark yet, have you? Time you got

  him trained. For starters, you don’t ask, you tell! Seven thirty, okay? We’ll call and collect you.

  No need to dress up. It’ll be pretty casual. And if it goes on late, Steve won’t mind us crashing out on the floor.’

  Spending the night on someone’s mucky carpet, surrounded by people I didn’t know

  who would more than likely be drunk, didn’t appeal to me at all, but I nodded anyway. ‘Yeah,

  maybe, but we’ll probably get a taxi back. I think I’d rather sleep in my own bed.’

  ‘Up to you, and certainly more private, if you’re planning on . . .’

  ‘I’m not. We’re not.’

  ‘So you say. Right, I’ll see you Saturday then? Time I got to interrogate this man of

  yours about his intentions, I think.’

  ‘Don’t you dare! You sound like my dad.’

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  ‘Only joking. And don’t forget the booze. I bet that’s something you wouldn’t hear your dad say.’

  I watched her go, hips swinging with a confidence in her own sexuality I didn’t think I

  would ever have. But then, we were different. Very different. Her approach to life, to men, was nothing like mine. She and Lenny seemed happy enough, but I never saw them gaze into each

  other’s eyes, link fingers, nuzzle each other’s necks. It was more of a bum slap and a snog and sharing a bottle of lager whenever I saw them together. Sex just seemed to be a natural part of life to Beth, like brushing her teeth. It was something she had done before and would do again, without worrying about it, being frightened of it, analysing it. With Lenny, or whoever came

  along next. All part of the process.

  I wanted more than that. I wanted the real thing. Before I gave myself to anyone. I didn’t

  want to just do it anyway, in the vain hope that the feelings might follow later. I wanted the

  feelings first. The feelings in my head and heart, not the ones that fizzed away between my

  legs. I didn’t want to be pushed or persuaded. It had to be my choice. I wanted love.

  ***

  We didn’t stay long at the party, in the end. The host, Steve, was nice enough but a few years

  older than us and, according to Lenny, he worked as an auditor at the Town Hall. Somehow

  that didn’t surprise me, as the rather dull décor and choice of music were so clearly suited to the shirt-and-tie thirty-plus group to which the majority of the guests belonged.

  It didn’t bother Beth and Lenny though. Wedged together in a corner of the sofa, with

  a bottle of wine stuffed behind the cushions and Lenny’s hand stuffed inside Beth’s shirt, they looked very much as if they were settled for the long haul and, apart from a vague nod as we

  grabbed our coats and headed for the door, I’m not sure they even registered that we had gone.

  It had started to rain by the time we got outside, headlights shining on the puddles as

  the cars swooshed past, a bus pulling up at the kerb and sending up a spray of mucky water

  that just missed hitting our legs. Unfortunately the bus was going in the wrong direction or we probably would have jumped on and headed straight back to uni.

  ‘What do you want to do now?’ Josh said, putting a hand on my back and guiding me

  safely across the road. ‘Wait for one heading the other way? Grab a taxi? Or we could walk

  into town. We’re not that far away. Find a pub or a pizza or something? Those nibbles barely

  touched the sides and I’m bloody starving.’

  ‘Yeah, let’s do that. I don’t know about you but I get a bit sick of the sight of the campus

  day in and day out. Last time I went out anywhere was to Tesco’s!’

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  ‘Wow, you really know how to live, don’t you?’ Josh teased.

  ‘I quite enjoyed it actually. Except for lugging all the stuff back. I bought more than I’d

  intended and I hadn’t really thought about how heavy it was all going to be while it was piling up in the trolley.’

  ‘You mean you didn’t stick to your list?’

  ‘List? Where’s the fun in that? Shopping needs to be a spontaneous thing. From the

  heart. Like going out for bread and coming back with shoes.’

  ‘Now, that’s your poet’s brain, you see. Head in the clouds. Ask a mathematician to go

  shopping and he’ll have it all worked out before he starts. He’ll have a proper list of what he’s shopping for and he’ll stick to it, so he knows how much he’s likely to spend, how many bags

  he’ll need and what to put in each for even weight distribution. No deviating from the task in

  hand. Like an equation. A science.’

  ‘Oh, stop being so smug. And so boring! Let’s just walk and see where we end up, shall

  we? A magical mystery tour. No plan, no pre-arranged list. Let’s just see where life takes us

  for a change. Or where this road takes us, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, there is a rebel in there somewhere! Suits me though.’ He took hold of my hand

  and I felt his fingers close tightly around mine. ‘Although I must point out I’ve only got about twenty pounds in my wallet, so it’ll have to be a mystery tour with budgetary limitations.’

  ‘Fine. I’ve got a tenner, so we should be all right. Chinese, Indian, fish and chips . . .

  whatever we come to first we’ll eat. It’ll be an adventure, a surprise. Doesn’t matter what the place looks like, or whether it’s take-away or sit-down. Deal?’

  ‘De
al.’

  It was a burger bar, as it turned out. One with misted-up windows and slightly greasy

  tables, and a menu where fruit and vegetables, unless you counted a few limp-looking lettuce

  leaves and a pile of tomato-ketchup sachets, were non-existent and everything came with chips.

  ‘You sure you want to eat here? It’s a bit . . . basic,’ Josh whispered as we waited in the

  queue to place our order.

  ‘Not romantic enough for you? And you say I’m the one with my head in the clouds!’

  ‘I just feel a bit mean, bringing you somewhere like this, when we’re supposed to be on

  a date. Like we should be somewhere a bit more . . .’

  ‘Clean?’

  ‘I was going to say special, but now you come to mention it . . .’

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  ‘It is a bit dodgy, isn’t it?’ I eyed the man behind the counter, sweat dripping down his face and onto a torn blue-and-white striped apron as he shovelled sliced gherkins from a jar

  onto a burnt bun. A hunched little man in a dirty mac stood in front of us, watching the

  construction of his burger and rummaging through a handful of loose change, while sniffing

  loudly without the benefit of a hankie. ‘Shall we leave while we still can?’ I whispered, tugging at Josh’s sleeve.

  He laughed. ‘Changed your mind then? How about our deal?’

  ‘Deal’s off.’ I pulled him out into the street and the door slammed shut behind us. A

  trickle of rainwater poured from a broken gutter up above and bounced onto the shoulder of

  Josh’s coat. ‘I just wanted to test you out, to see if you’d go along with it, but I really don’t think I can eat that stuff in there. Sorry!’

  ‘Aha. That’ll be fifty pence please,’ he announced, grinning. ‘No sorrys allowed,

  remember? Now, come on, let’s find somewhere decent and get ourselves some dinner. I’ve

  actually got twenty pounds fifty to spend now, so we can really push the boat out.’

  ‘I think we might need an actual boat if this rain gets any heavier!’

  I dug in my purse and found a fifty-pence piece and pushed it into Josh’s cold hand.

  ‘Don’t say I never pay my debts,’ I said. ‘But believe me, I will get it back, if only by ordering extra mushrooms!’ And then we hurried away, arm in arm, laughing and dripping wet, in search

  of the pizza Josh had suggested in the first place.

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  CHAPTER 8

  SARAH

  It was one of those days when the weather can’t quite make up its mind. It had been warm

  when I’d taken Buster for his morning walk, the sky more or less cloudless, so I’d headed off

  to school in just a T-shirt, a pair of jeans and sandals, making the most of the no-uniform policy that applied now that lessons for year elevens were over for the summer and we were turning

  up only when we had an exam to sit or needed to use the library to revise.

  By the time I came out of the stuffy, silent hall at lunchtime, the History paper behind

  me and a monumental fail almost inevitable, it was raining. Still, at least I’d never have to think about the Industrial Revolution ever again, so there was certainly a bright side.

  ‘You going straight home?’ Tilly said, running to catch up with me as I crossed the

  playground, only just dodging a ball that came flying straight at us, closely followed by a couple of year-seven boys who just laughed as they retrieved it and ran off. Neither of us mentioned

  the exam we’d just sat through.

  ‘I suppose. Why? You got something else in mind?’

  ‘Shops maybe?’

  ‘I don’t have any money. Well, only what Mum gave me for some lunch. You?’

  ‘Not a lot. We could just go and look in the windows though, couldn’t we? Dream a

  bit! It’s not long until the end-of-year disco, and we’re going to need ideas, if nothing else. Has your mum said anything about buying you something new to wear? Or how much you can

  spend?’

  ‘Not really. I think she still has some mad idea about making me what she calls a posh

  dress, but I’m hoping if I say nothing she’ll forget and by the time I remind her it’ll be too late.

  I’d be much happier just getting a shiny top or something from Dorothy Perkins.’

  ‘God. They have no idea, do they? Parents?’

  ‘None at all!’

  ‘I wish we had proms like they do in America. Then we could turn up in one of those

  long white limousines.’

  ‘Can’t see this school ever doing anything like that.’

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  ‘And I think you’re meant to have a date when you go to a prom. You know, a boy to turn up with, or else you just look like some sad no-mates kind of a person. What a load of

  rubbish.’

  ‘Well, I’d be all right though, wouldn’t I? I’ve got Paul.’

  ‘Have you? Really? I mean, is he actually your boyfriend or what?’

  ‘Course he is.’ The rain was getting heavier and we’d only made it as far as the school

  gate. A bus was coming towards us and suddenly jumping on it seemed like a very good idea.

  ‘Look, I am going home after all. I don’t fancy getting soaked. You go to the shops if you like, and once I’ve grabbed a coat and seen if I can squeeze some money out of my dad if he’s home

  then I’ll come and find you. Meet you outside Debenhams, okay? One o’clock.’

  I flashed my pass at the driver, walked along the aisle of the almost empty bus and sat

  right at the back. Why did Tilly always have to ask such awkward questions? Probably because

  she didn’t have a boyfriend of her own. Of course Paul was my boyfriend. Well, it wasn’t as if

  we’d been out to the pictures or anything like that, and we certainly hadn’t made any earth-

  shattering announcement about us being together, but we’d . . . Well, he’d said that he liked

  me, and we’d done the deed, hadn’t we? Three times now, and that had to mean something.

  ‘How did you get on?’ Dad said, coming into the hallway as I dashed into the house,

  slamming the door behind me and dripping raindrops all over the carpet. ‘Oh, I see you forgot

  your coat.’ He stepped forward and gave me a hug anyway, laughing as my wet hair made a

  soggy mark on the front of his shirt.

  ‘Don’t ask.’

  ‘Ah, but I just did! That bad, eh? Never mind, Love, we can’t all be brilliant at

  everything, and History’s not as important as some of the others. Learning all those dates . . .

  Unless you want to teach it, I’ve never really seen that it’s a lot of use in life. And you’ve got Maths next, right? You like Maths.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Oh, Sarah, Love, don’t look so downhearted. It’ll be fine. And once these exams are

  over, you can start looking around for a job. There must be loads of places that would jump at

  the chance of employing a clever girl like you. Local offices, shops, maybe even something at

  the Council.’

  I knew he meant well, but if he really thought I was as clever as all that he would be

  talking about me going on to A levels and researching university places, not looking for jobs.

  ‘Yeah, maybe. But Dad?’

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  ‘Yes, Love?’

  ‘Do you think that, as I’ve been revising so hard, you might give me . . . well, a reward

  of some kind? Some of the other girls’ parents are taking them on holidays or giving them some

  money for, you know, doing well in their exams.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait until we see the results before we think about rewards, Sarah? I

  mean, revising is one thing but actually passing is something else entirel
y. When your sister

  did so well . . .’

  ‘Yes, I know. You bought her a watch, and lovely it was too, but Eve’s a brainbox, isn’t

  she? There was never any doubt she’d pass the lot. I’m not in her league.’

  ‘You’ll do the best you can, I’m sure. And your mother and I have already got our eyes

  on a very nice watch for you, every bit as pretty as your sister’s.’

  ‘And what if I don’t want a watch? Or a job in an office?’

  He looked puzzled for a moment. ‘What do you want then?’

  ‘I don’t know, Dad. I wish I did, but I’m not Eve. We’re not the same. We never have

  been.’

  ‘Of course not. I know that. Each beautiful in your own way. And we’re equally proud

  of both of you. I hope you know that. Now, I only popped home for a quick lunch and to see

  how you got on, but I really have to get back to the office now. Will you be okay? Your mum

  will be home soon if you’re staying in. Or I can give you a few pounds to treat yourself to some lunch out if you like. Might help cheer you up. Exam time can feel pretty rotten, I remember.’

  ‘Lunch on my own?’

  ‘Oh, no. That would never do! Why not ask little Tilly if she’d like to join you?’ He

  took his wallet from his trouser pocket and opened it, checking the contents carefully. ‘Will

  five pounds be enough?’

  I gave him one of those not-quite-sure looks which seemed to entice another fiver out

  into his hand.

  ‘Chin up, Sarah,’ he said, putting two fingers under my chin and tilting my face up

  towards him. ‘It’ll all look a lot better when the exams are over, and we can give some serious thought to your future.’

  I thanked him for the cash and waved him off at the door. Buster had wandered out

  from his basket in the kitchen and stood beside me, sniffing at the rain, and I bent down to pat his wiry head. Once Dad had driven away, I followed the old dog as he plodded back towards

  the kitchen. Think about my future? Right then it stretched only as far as the school disco, and 52

  making sure Paul Jacobs would only have eyes for me. And hands. Because I couldn’t lose him now. Couldn’t let him drift away into some other girl’s arms, some other girl’s body. I had let him have sex with me, and that had to count for something. It had to count for a lot. Otherwise, what was the point? In any of it.