Page 48 of Good Sisters

If only she knew. I’d partied very hard at her age, sneaking out of the window when Mum and Dad were asleep, getting Julie to let me in when I got home in the early hours of the morning. Louise was the boring one: all she did was study. Julie always had a steady boyfriend, but I liked to party. I’d tap on Julie’s bedroom window and she’d let me in whatever time it was and never say anything.

I rapped on the door again, louder. She was slating me anyway so I might as well play my part.

‘Hurry up, Jess, we need to go.’

She huffed, said goodbye and glared at me. ‘Oh, my God, you are so rude. I was on a call.’

‘With who?’

‘No one.’

‘It was someone.’

‘You don’t know them,’ she said, blushing.

‘A boy?’

‘Mum, go away.’

I smiled. ‘I was a teenager once too, Jess. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I also dated boys and had crushes. You can talk to me.’

She looked up, her eyes wide. ‘Are you for real right now? Talk to you about boys? I’d rather die. You’re so weird.’

I let it go. I didn’t want to push her, because it was important for me to keep communication with Jess open, however small the window was. But I did want to shout, I’m not weird, I’m just lonely. I miss you. I miss our closeness. I miss you coming to me with your problems and your hugs and your love. I miss us being a team, Sophie and Jess against the world. Snuggling up on rainy days watching movies, going for walks, having hot chocolate in cosy cafés, bakingtogether … I miss it all. And I’m worried about you, worried about boys and sex and drink and vaping and drugs. These days I felt like I was losing her and it hurt. It was a grief all of its own – very different from mine for Mum, but a deep grief all the same. I mourned the loss of my girl, even though she was right there in front of me.

What I actually said was, ‘Come on, let’s go.’

In the car I asked her what she thought Robert would like for his birthday.

Barely looking up from her phone, she muttered, ‘I dunno. Just get him a truck or something.’

‘Jess, put your phone down. I’m trying to talk to you.’

‘I’m just texting Lauren. Relax.’

‘I am relaxed,’ I said, through gritted teeth.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘So do you think I should get him a truck?’

‘Who?’

Jesus Christ. ‘Robert.’

‘Oh, yeah, whatever.’

‘Okay. Thanks for your help.’

‘What? He’s six. He’ll like anything you give him. God, chill out.’

I gripped the steering wheel and counted to ten, but I still wanted to shout at her. Thankfully, we reached the school before I lost my temper and she hopped out without so much as a backward glance or a ‘Thanks for the lift.’

When I got home Jack was packing his suitcase, carefully folding his shirts into the small carry-on. He was travelling more, these days, and while it was good for his job as a business consultant, it meant he was away a lot and left me to manage Jess and Robert on my own.

‘Promise you’ll be back before Robert’s party?’

‘I promise.’

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