Page 102 of The Sun Sister
‘No, he’s a lawyer.’
‘Wow, you two obviously got to know each other quite well this morning. He was sitting by himself when I went into the canteen at lunchtime. So, being the friendly, welcoming person I am, I went to sit with him. Two minutes later, he picked up his tray and left.’ Lizzie frowned. ‘So much for my pulling tactics, eh?’
‘I thought you were devoted to your husband?’ I said.
‘You know I am, but there’s no harm in window-shopping occasionally, even if you can’t buy the product! He looks far too fit to be in here. Why is he?’
‘He says he comes back every year to make sure he doesn’t relapse.’
‘This is my sixth time here, so I totally understand. I like it here because everyone is so friendly and you’re never short of someone to talk to. Not like at home.’
‘Doesn’t your husband miss you?’
‘Oh, he’s hardly ever at home either. And now that the children have gone, well...Anyway, if you’re sure you won’t come, I’d better be off. How do I look in these jeans?’ she asked, standing up and giving me a twirl. ‘I couldn’t even get them to do up when I arrived a few weeks ago. And please don’t lie, just say it how it is.’
I looked at her trim figure, with a narrow waist and pert little butt that any twenty-five-year-old would be proud of, let alone a woman of forty-eight.
‘Seriously, Lizzie, you look just great.’
‘Are you sure? My husband hates me in jeans – says I have a “jelly belly”.’
‘You don’t, I swear. Now you go off and have a great evening, okay?’
‘Thanks, Electra, see you later.’
As Lizzie left the room in a cloud of her expensive perfume, I suddenly realised that she wasn’t just here to lose weight; she was here because she was lonely.
I pulled the chair out by my desk, retrieved the notepaper, envelopes and pens from the drawer and began my ‘apology’ letters.
Dear Maia,
I am doing well here. I’ve been off the shit for three weeks and going to AA meetings every day. Being in here has given me time to think about how badly I’ve behaved towards you in the past...
Month? Year?I thought to myself.
...year. And especially in Rio. I can see now that you were only trying to help me. If it wasn’t for you calling Mariam that night, I literally wouldn’t be here anymore. I hope you can forgive me, and I look forward to seeing you in June.
Thanks again.
Love,
Electra
As I folded the letter and stuck it in an envelope, I wished that I could simply email her, because God only knew how long my note would take to get to Rio. But Margot, the AA leader, had said it was better if it was written, because letters were more meaningful. Maybe I’d send Maia an email anyway, to tell her the letter was on its way. Or if she was to come visit next week, I could give it to her then.
I addressed the envelope and stuck it in my drawer.
Then I wrote to Ma, using mainly the same words but altering it a little to suit. I had a sudden urge to write ‘I love you’ at the bottom. I couldn’t even remember whether I had ever said those words to her. Well, Ididlove her, I realised, a whole lot. She was the kindest person I’d ever met, and she had put up with me and my behaviour for a long time, so I finished the letter with words to that effect.
Feeling suddenly tearful, I thought about Atlantis and how safe I’d felt there and how much I’d always wanted to go back when I’d been away at school because it was ‘home’...
‘Now I need to find my own...’ I muttered, a tear splashing onto the envelope as I wrote Ma’s name and address on the front.
I was feeling low now, which wasn’t good, so I put the paper and pens away, stretched and decided to go outside and get some air. Just down the corridor there was a kitchenette with coffee, tea and cookies, so I fixed myself a ginger tea – the zing as it went down my throat was the nearest I could get to a hit these days – then wandered outside. The night was noticeably cooler, and I could smell the scent of the large saguaro flowers that grew on the cacti in the garden. The sky was just incredible – inky black and wide open above me. As always when I looked up to the stars, I searched for the Seven Sisters and there they were, twinkling away. As usual, I counted six – it was only very rarely I got to see the seventh. Pa had once told me that some cultures said that Electra – i.e. me – was the lost sister of the Pleiades. He’d even given me an old black and white print of a scene from a ballet calledElectra, Or the Lost Pleiadthat had been on once in London. I walked towards the bench that sat amid the pretty Serenity Garden, full of herbs nestled amongst the bright flowers, which gave off a delicate scent. A little fountain played soothingly in the background, and I closed my eyes and thought about how I’d always felt like the ‘lost’ sister out of the six of us. Even though Pa had never found the seventh.
‘Hi there,’ a voice said from the bench on the other side of the garden.
I opened my eyes and as they readjusted to the low lighting, I saw it was Miles, smoking a cigarette.
