Page 1 of Good Sisters

1. Julie

I sat on the edge of the bath, blocking out the chaos outside. I needed space. I was not ready for this. Then again, are you ever ready to bury your mother?

I dabbed my eyes with another lump of toilet paper, rubbing off the make-up I had applied five times.

My new funeral shoes were already pinching my toes. I should never have let Sophie talk me into buying them. They were too high. My younger sister was all about suffering for fashion, but at forty-nine years of age I craved comfort and lived in trainers or flats.

Louise had told me which of my black dresses was appropriate for our mother’s funeral. As the eldest, Louise always seemed to know what to do in every circumstance, so we all just obeyed her. She was smarter than the rest of us put together and impossible to argue with, so we tended simply to follow her directions.

I could hear the triplets slagging each other and Harry shouting at them to ‘bloody well behave today’.

Then Tom piped up. ‘Come on, guys, it’s a really sad day for Mum. She loved Granny.’

Even at just turned eleven years old, my ‘baby’, Tom, was still sweet and compliant. I knew his hormones would kick in soon and my mere existence would become mortifying to him, so I cherished him all the more.

To be fair, the triplets had tried to be sympathetic about Mum dying. Liam had hugged me for the first time in two years, which, at fifteen, was a big deal for him. Luke hadmade me a cup of coffee using unblended coffee beans that I’d almost choked on, but it was a sweet gesture. Leo had tried to distract me by telling me all of the messing they had got up to in school without getting caught, which only served to raise my anxiety levels through the roof: I’m permanently convinced they’re going to be expelled from their posh school.

Harry was doing his best to be kind, of course, but his fussing about was getting on my nerves.

The only people who totally understood how I was feeling were my sisters and my brother. I just wanted to be with them and Dad. Only we five could understand the pain of losing Mum so quickly.

One minute she was fine, then she had a pain in her back, then she was having chemo, then she died. Seven weeks from the day she went to see her GP to the day she died. It felt like any minute we’d be called back to the hospital and told it was a crazy, stupid mistake and Mum would be standing there, smiling, herself again.

I pressed my hands against my eyes to steady my thoughts. I kept going off on these wild tangents, then having to come back to the awful truth. It hurt like hell every time. We were all reeling from shock as much as from grief. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if the grief had arrived yet. I was cold and numb inside but I couldn’t tell where shock ended and grief began.

My phone beeped. It was Sophie, posting on our siblings WhatsApp group.

Jack and Jess driving me nuts. How u all?

Gavin typed:Struggling. Not sure I’ll be able to read the prayer.

Louise typed:Get it together, we need to be strong for Dad and give Mum the funeral she deserves. I’ve finished my eulogy. See you all at Dad’s in 20 mins. DO NOT BE LATE!!

I knew that was aimed at me. Time-keeping was not my strong point and Louise was like a Swiss watch – always, without fail, on time.

See you there, I typed. It was important to keep her calm and not bring her wrath upon me. Not today, I couldn’t handle it.

Harry knocked gently on the bathroom door. ‘Julie, are you ready?’

I stood up and opened the door. There in front of me were Harry and the four boys all dressed in smart clothes. A lump formed in my throat and I welled up.

‘You look so nice,’ I sobbed.

‘Dad!’ Liam hissed. ‘You said she’d be happy to see us dressed in these loser clothes.’

‘I’m putting on my tracksuit.’ Leo turned to go.

‘No!’ I cried out. ‘I’m happy – these are happy tears. I love that you all dressed up smartly.’

‘Jeez, Mum, it’s hard to tell between happy and sad tears. How are we supposed to know which is which?’ Luke wanted to know. ‘Your eyes are all puffy and red, and you look sad.’

‘I am sad, love, but I also appreciate you getting dressed up. I know you hate wearing shirts and chinos and lace-up shoes, but it’s important to me.’

‘Well, we did it for Granny too. She always said we dressed like hobos,’ Leo reminded me.

Mum had been hard on the triplets. I wish they’d seen more of the sweet, loving side she’d shown to Jess, and especially to Clara. She hadn’t really known how to connect with my boys. They’d never had the closeness their female cousins had enjoyed with my mother.

‘Do I look nice, Mum?’ Tom eagerly awaited approval.

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