‘Hello?’
‘Star? It’s Mouse. Sorry to disturb you, but I went to High Weald this morning – I hadn’t been there since the weekend. Marguerite wanted some time with Rory before she leaves for France. I also had the sale of the bookshop going through and all the last-minute comings and goings between the solicitors that entailed. When I telephoned earlier in the week to check on Rory, they said you’d gone to London on Sunday.’
‘Oh.’
‘Anyway, this morning when I went over there, I found a note addressed to you still propped up on the kitchen table. Is everything all right? With your sister, I mean?’
‘Yes . . . I mean . . . no, she’s left and I don’t know where she’s gone.’
‘I see. You must be in a state.’
‘I am a bit, yes.’
‘Is that why you left on Sunday?’
‘Yes.’
‘Honestly, I wish someone had told me why you’d left! You can imagine what I thought. Don’t you just love families?’
‘Yes,’ I gulped, relief flooding through me.
‘Look, do you want me to come up to London? Marguerite’s staying with Rory until next Tuesday, so I’m free until then.’
‘I’m just off to Norway to hear my sister perform in a concert.’
‘Which sister?’
‘Ally. The one whose fiancé was killed. She’s pregnant,’ I added.
‘Oh.’ There was a pause on the line. ‘Is that good news?’
‘Yes, it is,’ I said firmly. ‘Ally’s thrilled.’
‘Star . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘I miss you. Do you miss me at all?’
I nodded, then realised he couldn’t see me, so I took a deep breath and opened my mouth.
‘Yes.’
There was a long pause. And then, ‘Wow. So, did you read what was in the envelope?’
‘Yes.’
‘And will you come away with me for a couple of days when you get back?’
‘Can . . . I think about it?’
A sigh of frustration came down the line. ‘Okay, but can you let me know by tomorrow lunchtime? Marguerite’s leaving on Tuesday, so I have to be back in Kent for Rory by mid-afternoon. If you do want to go, I’ll come and collect you on Sunday on my way up from Kent.’
‘I will, yes.’
‘Well, have a safe trip, and I hope you hear from your missing sister.’
‘Thanks, bye.’
‘Bye.’
I raced down the stairs to the front door, hoping the taxi I’d ordered was still waiting for me. As we drove off, my mobile pinged to alert me to a text.
Sorry, Sia, only just got all yor mesages. Been traveling. Im fine. Tell you all about it when Im home. Love u, Cee.
I texted back immediately.
Cee! Thank God! Been worried sick. I’m so, so sorry for everything. I love you too. KEEP IN TOUCH. xxx
And I then sat back in the taxi, euphoric with relief.
45
The lights dimmed in the auditorium and I watched my sister rise from her seat on the stage. I could see the contours of the new life inside her clearly defined beneath the black dress. Ally closed her eyes for a moment as if in prayer. When she finally lifted the flute to her lips, a hand reached for mine and squeezed it gently. And I knew Ma was feeling the resonance too.
As the beautiful, familiar melody, which had been part of my and my sisters’ childhood at Atlantis, floated out across the hall, I felt some of the tension of the past few weeks flow out of me with the swell of the music. As I listened, I knew that Ally was playing for all those she had loved and lost, but I understood too that just as the sun comes up after a long, dark night, there was new light in her life now. And as the orchestra joined her and the beautiful music reached a crescendo, celebrating the dawning of a new day, I felt the same.
Yet in my own rebirth, others had suffered, and that was the part I had yet to rationalise. I’d only understood recently that there were many different kinds of love.
At the interval, Ma and I went to the bar, and Peter and Celia Falys-Kings, who introduced themselves as Theo’s parents, joined us for a glass of champagne. As I watched the way Peter’s arm rested protectively on Celia’s waist, they still looked like a young couple in love.
‘Santé,’ said Ma, as she chinked her glass against mine. ‘Isn’t this the most wonderful evening?’
‘Yes, it is,’ I replied.
‘Ally played so beautifully. I wish your other sisters could have been here to see her. And your father, of course.’
I watched Ma’s brow furrow in sudden concern and wondered what secrets she kept. And how heavily they weighed on her. As did mine.
‘CeCe couldn’t make it then?’ she asked me tentatively.
‘No.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’
‘I’m not at the apartment very often these days, Ma.’
‘So, you’re the “mom” who cared for Ally during her childhood?’ asked Peter.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘You did a wonderful job,’ he said.
‘That’s down to her, not me,’ Ma replied modestly. ‘All of my girls make me very proud.’
‘And you’re one of Ally’s famous sisters?’ Peter turned his gimlet eyes on me.
‘Yes.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Star.’
‘And which number are you?’
‘Three.’
‘Interesting.’ He looked at me again. ‘I was number three as well. Never listened to and never heard. Yes?’
I didn’t reply.
‘Bet a lot goes on inside that head of yours, right?’ he continued. ‘It sure did in mine.’
Even if he was right, I wouldn’t tell him. So I shrugged silently instead.
‘Ally is a very special human being. We both learnt a lot from her,’ said Celia, giving me a warm smile as she changed the subject. I could tell she thought my silences meant I was struggling with Peter.
‘Yes, indeed. And now we’re to be grandparents. What a gift your sister has given us, Star,’ said Peter. ‘And this time, I’m going to be there for the little one. Life is just too damned short, isn’t it?’