The Pearl Sister (The Seven Sisters #4)

‘You’ve moved closer to your muse. Now that really is a reason to move to the back of beyond,’ she agreed sadly.

‘Yeah, I mean, I was so lost when I left London, didn’t know what I wanted to paint, but when Chrissie drove me out to the ghost gum with the MacDonnell Ranges behind it, something magical happened. She sold that painting two days later for six hundred dollars!’

‘Wow, that’s amazing, Cee! So, who is this Chrissie? Does she live where you’re going?’ Star eyed me.

‘Er, she doesn’t at the moment, but she might be moving there in the next few weeks.’

‘To be near you?’

‘Yes, no, sort of . . . She might be offered a job in an art gallery, and, er’ – I kept nodding like I was one of those dogs that sat in the back window of a car – ‘we’re really good friends. She’s great, really positive, you know? She’s had a difficult life, and she’s got this, like, false leg from below her knee, and . . .’

I realised I was rambling and had probably completely given myself away.

‘Cee’ – a gentle hand landed on my wrist – ‘Chrissie sounds amazing, and I really hope I’ll get to meet her one day.’

‘I hope so too, ’cos what she’s been through, well, it made me realise how spoilt I was growing up. We had this magical childhood at Atlantis, sheltered from everything, but Chrissie really had to fight to get to where she is now.’

‘I understand. Does she make you happy?’

‘Yeah,’ I managed after a pause. ‘She does.’

‘So, she’s your “special” person then?’

‘Maybe, but it’s early days, and . . . Christ!’ I hit the table with my fist. ‘What is it about being back here? I can’t get the words right.’

‘Hey, Cee, it’s me, Sia. We never needed words, remember?’ Her hands began to move in the sign language we’d made up as children when we didn’t want our other sisters to know what we were saying.

Do you love her? she signed.

Not sure yet. Maybe.

Does she love you?

Yes, I signed, without pausing to think.

‘Then I’m SO happy for you!’ she said out loud and stood up from the table to give me a big hug.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered into her hair, ‘though knowing me, it might all go wrong.’

‘That’s what I think every day with Mouse. It’s called trust, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And remember,’ she said, pulling back to look at me. ‘Whatever happens, we’ll always have each other.’

‘Thanks.’ I squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the tears.

‘Now,’ she said, sitting back down, ‘I’ve done some research on “Linda”.’

‘Have you?’ I said, trying to pull myself together.

‘Yes.’ Star placed a name and number in front of me. I squinted at what was written there.

‘There are three Lindas at the bank. Given one works in the catering department and the other has only been there for the past two months, the most likely candidate is Linda Potter. She was the PA to the CEO of the bank, David Rutter.’

‘Really? How did you find out?’

‘I called the bank and asked for “Linda”. Each time I got through, I pretended she was the wrong Linda and they connected me to the others in their different departments. Finally, I got to the CEO’s office – Linda Potter has recently retired, apparently.’

‘Right.’

‘Well?’ Star eyed me.

‘Well what?’

‘If Ace said Linda knows and this Linda used to be the PA to the CEO, she’d be in on everything that’s going on in the company. PAs always are,’ she said confidently.

‘Okay . . .’ I nodded, wondering where this was heading.

‘Cee, I really think you should go and see Ace, and ask him about Linda. And besides, this isn’t just about him, it’s about you too! He thinks you were the one that shopped him to the press. Surely you want to put the record straight before you leave for Australia?’

‘Yeah, but there’s no proof, is there? The film was on my camera, and I gave it to the security guard to develop.’

‘Then you should tell him that yourself. And also ask him why he isn’t making any effort to defend himself.’

‘Wow, you’re seriously passionate about this, aren’t you?’

‘I just don’t like people being blamed for something they haven’t done. Especially when it’s my sister,’ she said fiercely.

‘I’m trying to learn to keep my mouth shut,’ I said with a shrug.

‘Well, for once in our lives, I’m saying the words for you. And I think you should go.’

I saw then that she had changed in the past few months. The old Star would have thought all of this stuff on the inside, but would never have said it out loud. Whereas I had always said too much. Perhaps we were both adjusting to being apart from each other.

‘Okay, okay,’ I agreed. ‘I know he’s at Wormwood Scrubs Prison. I’ll find out what the visiting hours are.’

‘Promise?’ she asked me.

‘Promise.’

‘Good. I have to leave in a bit to collect Rory from school.’

‘Okay, well, before you go I was wondering if you’d help me fill in my Australian passport application? My grandfather’s given me all the documents I need, but you know how I am with filling in forms.’

‘Of course. Do you want to go and get them?’

I brought the envelope downstairs and Star went off to find a black ink pen to start filling it in. We spread the documents out on the kitchen table and had a brief glance at my mum’s birth certificate, before Star reached for mine.

‘So you were born in Broome on the fifth of August 1980,’ she read, her head bent in concentration as she read more details on the certificate. ‘Oh my God! Cee, have you actually looked at this yet?’

‘Er, no. My grandfather just gave me the envelope before I left.’

‘So, you haven’t seen what your original birth name was?’ She pointed to it and I leant over to take a look.

‘Strewth! As they say in Oz.’

‘Too right, Miss Pearl Abraham!’ Star said, then she began to giggle.

‘Pearl, ugh,’ I groaned. ‘And I always complained about Celaeno . . . I’m sorry, Pa.’

Then I couldn’t help myself and joined Star in her laughter, trying to imagine this other me called ‘Pearl’. It just wasn’t possible. Yet, in so many ways, it was perfect.

Once we’d calmed down, I slid the birth certificate back into its envelope.

‘Speaking of birth certificates, my mum’s flying over here in a few days’ time. And so is Ma,’ said Star.

‘Oh, that’s fantastic!’ I said, thinking it would save me the trip to Geneva. ‘Are they coming to meet each other?’

‘Sort of,’ said Star. ‘When my birth mum found me, she got in contact with some of the other members of her family. There’s a heap of them still living in the East End of London. We’re all going to a surprise party there for a relative of ours. My mum said a while ago she’d like to meet the woman who brought me up and thank her in person, and this was the perfect moment to invite Ma. I’d love you to meet my mum too – I’ve told her everything about you.’