Page 33 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
The joys of a doctor sister who recognises the need for the stronger drugs.
‘I’m sorry I abandoned you. I had to tend to Jag.’
‘Tend to?’
‘Don’t go there.’
‘Mum can’t wait to meet him.’
‘I hate you.’
I smile. ‘What about your girls, work?’
‘Lucy has the girls, you’ve got me for two days.’
‘Did you do the school run?’ I ask.
‘Yes, and some woman accosted me as well, asking about your leg. Blonde, lots of kids?’
Sarah. How this had got to her already was beyond me. ‘What did you say?’
‘You fell on some cobbles? I didn’t know how we were playing this… And there’s something going on with Gill. She and Stu… They’re not happy?’
‘I had it out with Stu earlier.’
‘Oh, that’s why he’s packing a bag then.’
‘He’s gone?’
‘Loitering. Staying for soup.’
‘And the anaesthetist?’
‘Went at lunch.’
There is a pause. We both need to divulge but neither of us want to go first.
‘What happened with the sex toys then? Did Gill find them?’ Emma asks.
‘You go first.’
‘You.’
I gesture down to my leg that I am the invalid here who has suffered pain and deserves the honour of going second in this exchange. Emma rolls her eyes back at me.
‘Jag is lovely. He’s so nice. We drove six hours here overnight. We had a lovely day yesterday. We had a stroll. He brought me flowers. Like flowers from a florist, not even supermarket flowers. They were wrapped with twine and he opens doors and we had Greek food.’
‘And you love hummus.’
‘I do love hummus.’
We sit here silently. Emma has been divorced from sex-pest Simon for nearly a year now. She keeps her walls high and lets few in. Ninety per cent of how she handles herself is done with grace and poise but I have the privilege of being her sister. I’m allowed to see the fractures, the irreparable damage that prevents her from participating in a relationship with her whole heart. Jag was doing everything right: trying to cement her back together with some Mediterranean dip and accompanying her six hours up the motorway to see a sister who’d fallen arse over tit. But Emma’s recovery will take time and lots of digging deep into her soul to be able to trust and love another again. I pat the bed as only a big sister can and she puts her head down next to my hip.
‘Your turn.’ She sits up, knowing my story is going to be a hell of a lot more interesting.
I pause, unsure at what to tell her. Lying here on my own has given me the time to look through Danny’s art. It still brewed a strange feeling of resentment in me, all these hours that he spent on it and I had no idea. I feel like I’ve been taken for a fool for not having even noticed that his time had been divided between me and this new hobby. I reach for my phone on the bedside table. Emma peers over for more information. I find Instagram. The news feed is an assortment of friends’ pictures of food, holiday sunsets and celebrity portraits. I go to the ‘Search’ box and take a deep breath.
Captain Mintcake
