Page 187 of The Sun Sister
We both eyed the glass of white wine that Lizzie was cradling. It was me that had asked Mariam to put it on the list for the home delivery from the grocery store; I had to face the fact that alcohol would appear regularly in my daily life.
‘If you’ve got Coke, I’ll take one of those.’ He grinned at me.
‘Oh boy, do I have plenty of that,’ I grinned back and left the room, wondering whether that last exchange counted as a flirt.
Mariam was working on her laptop at the kitchen table. I pulled a Coke out of the refrigerator, debating whether I should offer Miles a glass or just hand him the can. The glass won because of his sharp suit.
‘It’s time you were going home,’ I said to her as I poured the Coke into the glass.
‘Actually, I just need a few minutes of your time to run through your schedule for the next few days. It’s been like Grand Central Station here this afternoon.’
I took the Coke in to Miles and left it on the table because he and Lizzie were already deep in conversation, and gave myself a metaphorical hug. Ithadbeen busy in the apartment today, but nicely busy. Susie had come to see me, having heard about my new haircut, and she pronounced it ‘fabulous!’ She’d then ruined it by telling me I now had a head that was ready to be covered in any way the client and the photographer chose. I’d told her I wanted Patrick, my favourite photographer, to do a shoot just for me, completelyau naturel, and he was now booked for sometime next week.
Susie, who was originally English, and Lizzie had got on like a house on fire and had sat there bitching to their hearts’ content about their exes, while I dealt with a rail of clothes that had arrived from a designer and picked out the ones that I wanted to try on later and wear on high-profile occasions. Lizzie had then joined me and ooh-ed and aah-ed over a jacket which I’d put in my pile of ‘yes’s. Given her holdall had only contained her array of make-up, skincare products and a clean change of underwear, her wardrobe would definitely need boosting.
‘Right,’ said Mariam as I arrived back in the kitchen. ‘Hopefully, we won’t be disturbed. How are you feeling about flying up to Quebec forMarie Clairethe week after next?’
‘You can confirm it.’
‘Great. Oh, and also XX sent me an letter, asking again if you could design another capsule collection for him?’
‘I...’
I paused before I answered. My sketchbook was full of designs I could use for the project, but then I thought that surely myownname was big enough to enable me to do it by myself and not let someone else in on the profits? Andthen...I thought of Saturday’s visit to the drop-in centre, and the vaguest of ideas began to form in my mind...
‘Tell him no, I’m not interested,’ I said firmly.
‘Okay. Oh, and remember your grandmother is due here at eight tonight.’
‘Of course, thanks.’
I watched Mariam close her computer. Maybe it was because I’d been desensitised to the feelings of others for so long – certainly since I’d met Mariam – that I was now overly sensitive. But there was something about her that looked and felt different.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked her.
‘Yes, of course. I am the same as I always am,’ she replied, obviously shocked by my question.
‘Good, right, well, you’d better go home now. Lizzie has said she’s going to take over the cooking while she’s here, so at least that will relieve the burden on you.’
‘Oh, it really wasn’t a problem, Electra. You know I love cooking.’
It was probably me, but I thought I saw a slight film of water in her eyes as she stowed her laptop in her leather satchel and stood up.
‘Goodnight, Electra,’ she said as she walked out of the kitchen.
‘Bye, Mariam.’
I sat back down at the table and opened my laptop to check my own letters. I replied to the realtor who was handling the purchase of the Hacienda Orchídea, and saw that Tiggy had sent out an official round-robin letter to all my sisters, reminding us about our cruise. Then I turned on the small kitchen TV to keep me company so I wouldn’t think about the fact that Stella Jackson was due here in just under an hour’s time. And how I felt about her after discovering where Pa had found me. CNN was doing its usual tick-tack of news bulletins and share prices, then I winced out loud as a very familiar face came onto the screen.
‘Mitch Duggan announced today that he will be joining the Concert for Africa, which will be held at Madison Square Garden this Saturday. A host of musicians and celebrities are set to attend, including, it is rumoured, Senator Obama, the presidential candidate for the Democratic Party.’
A picture of Obama appeared, then the camera cut back to the newsreader.
‘Stella Jackson, the leading civil rights activist and lawyer who works with Amnesty International, has joined me in the studio to explain the continuing AIDS crisis in Africa, and how the concert will help raise awareness of the problem.’
And there wasmygrandmother, sitting as cool as a cucumber in the chair right next to the newsreader.
‘Thank you, Cynthia. I can tell you that more than awareness is needed at this point,’ Stella said. ‘We need direct action and aid from our politicians. HIV and AIDS have ravaged eastern and southern Africa, and three-quarters of all global AIDS deaths last year were recorded in those regions. The highest impact is on babies and young children, who...’
