Page 15 of The Summer Island Swap
‘You really think I’m that selfish – to put my desires first?’ Her voice wavered.
Amy was the most selfless person I knew. She’d offer up the last slice of pizza and was always bringing home waifs and strays from the surgery that had been handed in and couldn’t be homed for a few days. ‘Of course not,’ I said and exhaled. ‘It’s been amazing of you to spend thousands of pounds on me… but honestly… what were you thinking?’
‘That holiday with Mum we talked about, in Cornwall…’ She spoke in a small voice. ‘You loved camping… and I thought this would be an adventure.’
‘At the time I also loved the Spice Girls and banana and jam sandwiches.’
‘But what about the fun you had at guide camp?’
‘Yes, the night under the stars was brill, but Amy… I was a child. It was exciting, staying up late all night – whereas these days getting a good shut-eye is one of my priorities.’
‘But a luxury getaway… you’d have spent this holiday studying how the hotel was being run. I wanted you to forget work for once. After all these years…’
Yes. That too. After all these years of working my guts out, for once I wanted to be the one people waited on. A sob rose in my throat. I was bone tired. The last decade had worn me out. Shift work. Worrying about Amy as if she were my own child. Taking on responsibilities at eighteen that some people didn’t shoulder until they were into their late twenties or thirties – and me without the support of a family or partner.
I swiped away a fly. More than anything I hated seeing Amy upset. Her current expression reminded me of every time Dad put her down. Like when he told her short hair made her look like a boy. Over the years he’d been equally critical of me, but for some reason I remembered the times he’d hurt Amy more vividly.
‘For anyone else this would be an amazing trip,’ I said and couldn’t help raising my voice. ‘But I knew I should have got more involved and checked the details.’
‘Don’t speak to me as if I’m a child.’ She turned away.
‘And almost five thousand pounds? For the two of us to stay here? Rick must be having a laugh. It’s criminal, charging that much. Everyone here is a right mug for paying that amount.’
‘Does that include me?’ she asked in a tight voice and span around.
‘I didn’t mean…’ I sighed. ‘But you’ve got to admit – it’s a ridiculous price for living in huts.’
‘I’ve done my research. Our food and board is covered. Admin costs. And Rick explained his mission when I emailed him a couple of times about details. This conservation project is about preserving the wildlife that was under threat before the hurricane hit, as well as re-building a habitable environment for those creatures whose lives were devastated by the storm. Then there are ongoing veterinary bills and specialist animal food. And he’s done what he can to create employment for locals who lost their businesses when Hurricane Irma hit. So yes, it’s thousands of pounds – but I checked beforehand to make sure that every penny of it was being well spent. Any profits are ploughed straight back into—’
‘But his family are loaded,’ I said. ‘Why can’t he dip into the business to support his scheme?’
A muscle flinched in her cheek. ‘You don’t trust me to have spent my winnings wisely, do you?’
‘Perhaps we should discuss some house – or rather shack – rules, guys,’ called Helga, interrupting.
‘Go on, back in,’ I said to Amy and shook my head. ‘I need a few minutes – some fresh air.’
She paced up and down. ‘What, to get over the fact that your younger sister always messes up unless you’re hovering over her? Even though she is twenty-three,’ she snapped.
I stepped back, shocked. ‘No, of course not.’
Amy stood still, chin held high. ‘Is it always going to be like this, Sarah?’
‘It’s just… I guess I… because of Dad… the way he was… I just want to make sure—’
‘Are we never going to be able to leave him and our childhood behind? I love you, Sarah. So much. You know that. You’ve been brilliant bringing me up when Dad and Anabelle were doing such a crap job. It’s more than anyone should expect from an older sibling. But I’m grown up now.’ An exasperated tone cut through the humid air and her speech sped up. ‘If you were my mother, I’d have politely told you to butt out a long time ago. And that’s normal. Gaining independence, isn’t that parenting’s ultimate goal? Instead you still change my sheets even though I tell you I will. I’ve offered countless times to help you run the practical side of our flat, in terms of being the one to make sure the gas and electric bills, the insurance, mortgage and council tax are being paid every month – but you steadfastly refuse. When I wanted my last boyfriend to stay over for the night I gave up, you made so many excuses.’
‘I didn’t think he was right for you,’ I protested.
‘That’s not your decision to make. I’m a grown woman.’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘I can’t take it much longer. Living with you… it’s been great. I love our little flat. But I’m older now… perhaps it’s time I got a place of my own.’
Amy move out?
I hurried into the forest and leant up against a tree. I covered my face with my hands. Hot tears trickled down my face. Annoyed at myself, I wiped my eyes on my arm and sniffed. Amy mustn’t see me like this. I stayed there until my cheeks dried, digesting everything my sister had said.
Those angry words made my mind up. Four weeks apart would give Amy the independence she craved and maybe she’d miss all the little things I did. Then when she returned to England life would just carry on as it always had. She’d love being back at our cosy place and would forget all this nonsense about setting up on her own. Our London flat wasn’t in the most desirable area. We’d need a new boiler soon. The main road we lived on was noisy. But it was home. We had Nelly. And our friendly neighbours.
We had each other.
