Page 2 of The Summer Island Swap
‘All right… we both know manicured nails would chip within an hour on me and I’d rather climb rocks than have hot stones placed on my Chakra points. And I’m a little concerned I might get bored. But who knows? I might enjoy the pampering and it wouldn’t be a selfless break. Feeling that I was finally doing something for you – that would give me a sense of wellbeing that no fancy massage could ever match…’
Whistling – out-of-tune, as Amy never ceased to remind me – I went into the kitchen. It was only the size of Dad’s and my stepmother’s en-suite bathroom. Fondly, I ran a hand over the scratched units and gazed at a couple of cracked tiles. I loved every inch of this flat because it belonged to me and Amy.
And Nelly, our much-loved Burmese cat. She was ten now and became more regal as years passed. She padded into the kitchen, sat by her bowl and tidied her tail into a circle around her body.
I took out flour, butter and sugar. ‘I can’t help worrying about Nelly, if we’re away for that long,’ I called through to the living room. It was cluttered with Amy’s animal ornaments and my beauty magazines, framed photos of the two of us, and several shelves of novels – romance for me, thrillers for Amy. But I didn’t mind the lack of space in what was already a cramped room. Those objects were proof of the new, happier life we had now.
‘Sarah, I’m a veterinary nurse. I told you, I’ve a queue of great people offering to look after her. Or don’t you believe me?’ There was an edge to her voice.
Of course I did. It was just my habit to worry about Amy and Nelly, my little family.
They were all I needed. Having seen the life Mum led, I’d decided long ago I was never going to get married. The only weddings I wanted to be a part of were the fictional ones in my favourite movies and books.
‘I’ll still have to clear it at work. I’m not sure how Prue will feel about me taking a month off.’
Just the mention of my boss’s name made my stomach knot.
‘No one’s indispensable. Not even wonderful you,’ she called back.
My chest felt warm. Over recent years, Amy had matured and started to look out for me, cooking dinner and mowing the lawn. However, I’d never lose my maternal feelings towards her. When we were ten and six ours was quite an age gap. As was eighteen and fourteen when I’d had to leave her behind with Dad but promised we’d live together again. I beat the sugar and butter, remembering her tears and his folded arms as I dragged my suitcase past the fountain and out of the huge driveway, into the street. I’d finally realised I had to leave after… I swallowed. No. I wasn’t going to think about that now.
I let Nelly into the back garden, busied myself with ingredients and cleaned up whilst the cookies baked. Their sweet aroma wafted through the air as I carried them into the lounge, on a tray, with two coffees.
‘Good timing,’ said Amy and turned off her screen, looking pleased with herself. I put the tray on the table and joined her.
‘Is it all booked?’
She nodded. ‘A modest deposit paid. The rest is due in the middle of June, two weeks before we leave.’
‘Can’t you at least share which part of the world we’re visiting?’
‘That would be telling,’ she replied airily and took the largest cookie.
I jumped up and held her right arm firm whilst tickling the armpit. ‘I won’t stop until I find out, Amy Sterling.’
However, she was as strong as me these days and, giggling, held the cookie in her mouth and forced both of my hands away. I sat down once more. I recognised that expression. She was determined to keep her secret. Sometimes, with my impulsive sister, that could be a dangerous thing, like when she’d agreed to do a charity skydive with colleagues at work. She didn’t tell me until the morning of the jump.
‘Just a clue. A teeny one,’ I said. ‘Please…’
‘I’ve never seen you this excited before. Well, not since you were made assistant manager. Oh, and the time you found that fancy moisturiser for half price.’
‘It wasn’t justanymoisturiser. The Duchess of Cambridge uses it.’ I pressed my palms together. ‘At least let me guess… the Canary Islands? Barbados? Australia’s an island, right? I mean, you and me – we share most things, don’t we?’
‘Best buddies, always,’ she said solemnly.
It was a promise we’d made to each other, the day after Mum’s funeral. And sure enough, we confided in each other about our latest celebrity crushes, about our dreams for the future; we put the world to rights over Chardonnay and Pringles. I knew her favourite colour, favourite food, favourite band. She could always tell when I’d had a stressful day at work and, without prying, would make me a hot chocolate, fetch a blanket and switch on my current Netflix obsession.
Amy laughed and put down the cookie. ‘I can’t face this interrogation for the next three months. All right – but no more questions after this, agreed?’
‘Promise,’ I said, beaming.
Her chest puffed out. ‘I’ve booked us thebestbreak ever. It’s exotic. Luxurious. Our holiday destination is… one of the British Virgin Islands.’
I stared.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Nothing… it’s just…’ A lump rose in my throat. ‘That really is high-end.’
