The Sister Surprise by Abigail Mann (read full novel TXT) 📗

Apologies if this all sounds rushed—the internet is temperamental so I have to get this sent off before it disappears again.

See you soon, if I haven’t put you off!

Kian

I read the email again, my foot jiggling against the bed frame. Pickles opens one grumpy eye and stares at me.

‘Mum!’ I shout into the hallway. ‘Have you got some fleecy socks I can borrow?’

***

‘God, what’s that smell?’ I ask, as Rory opens the door to Ginger’s flat. Mum kicks her boots off by the door and smacks a kiss on Rory’s cheek before breezing through to the kitchen.

‘Dried porcini mushrooms. Mum found them at the back of a cupboard and she’s trying to boil them into a soup. Don’t worry, I’ve ordered us pizza. I’ve told the delivery guy to post it through the window.’

Inside, Ginger greets me with red eyes and a staggered sniff between each word.

‘Oh, Ginge. You didn’t have to go to all this effort,’ says Mum, blinking at the gelatinous grey liquid bubbling on the stove.

‘I can only apologise on Mum’s behalf,’ says Rory.

‘See how cruel she is to me?’ says Ginger, jerking her thumb at Rory.

‘It looks lovely, Ginger. We had a nibble before we came out, but I’m sure a little bowl wouldn’t hurt, right, Ava?’ says Mum, fixing a smile. Bloody liar. I’m absolutely starving and I know she is too because the only thing I could find in our fridge was a single bendy carrot.

‘Well, I hope you’ve got a robust digestive system,’ says Rory.

‘I’m sure it’ll go down just fine,’ says Mum. She turns to Ginger, folding her arms. ‘What’s going on with this bloke then?’

From the stove, Ginger’s shoulders judder. Rory raises an eyebrow and nods towards the corridor. We slip out and head to her old bedroom, where we pull out a futon to lie back on. Rory smacks my leg, her glee uncontained.

‘A sister?’

‘Half-sister,’ I add.

‘Pfff, like that makes a difference. Does Lorrie know?’

‘No. You know what she’s like when you bring up anything remotely uncomfortable,’ I say, tucking my feet underneath me.

‘She makes a speech about not living in the past and then cleans the house for five hours?’

‘Exactly. You haven’t told Ginger, have you?’

‘God, no. She can’t keep secrets for shit. She’s distracted, anyway. Some bloke.’

‘Who is it this time?’

‘Hmm. I think he’s called … Richard,’ says Rory. ‘Richard the Third. Pretty textbook, if the previous two are anything to go by.’

‘Recently divorced, recently retired, and a new member of the golf club with “no partner” for the annual dinner dance …’

‘… which Mum will expect an invite to, only …’

‘… he’s taking his wife back.’

We’ve been through this routine every few months since we were twelve or thirteen and it’s only funny now because of its familiarity.

‘Have you watched it back yet?’ asks Rory, her voice softening.

‘Oh God, no. That would be a form of masochism.’

‘Have you messaged each other yet? What’s she like?’

‘I guess I’ll find out when I see her,’ I say, biting my lip in anticipation of her reaction.

‘What?’ says Rory. I shush her as she smacks my arm repeatedly.

‘Yeah. I’ve told Mum I’m going on a mini sabbatical to Edinburgh, but I had a job stopping her from looking through my suitcase. I’ve not exactly packed for the city.’

I tell Rory about the geo-tag that came up on The Ancestry Project, Kian’s farm, and the diary I’m planning on writing for Snooper.

‘Maybe don’t tell Kian where you work. It makes it sound … dodgy.’

‘No, I’m going to avoid bringing it up at all. I don’t want anyone to think I’m taking advantage, but it’s not like I can go around admitting that I’m on the hunt for a sister I only discovered a week ago. There are only 300 people in the village, so someone’s bound to know her, right?’

‘Good point. If a random English girl turned up in my neighbourhood looking for me, I’d assume I owed them money.’

‘That’s because you’ve taken out too many store cards.’

‘Now is not the time for lectures, peach. I’m not downplaying this though; it is mad, right?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, leaning my head against the bamboo bed frame. I feel uncharacteristically relaxed. The only thing missing is a cup of Ovaltine and half a Nytol tablet, a form of deep relaxation that I treat myself to on a strictly once-a-month basis. Generally, I rely on a certain level of neurosis to function.

‘Do you know anything else about her?’

‘Moira? No, other than her hometown. Luckily, there’s nothing else near Kilroch and it’s not like you can pass through it because it’s surrounded by sea on three sides, so there’s a strong chance she’s there.’

‘What about her age? Are you big or little sister? Both have their ups and downs, speaking from experience. Remember when Amélie used my Ghds to straighten her pubes? Unforgivable. I can’t wait until she brings her uni boyfriend home. The ammo I’ve got to hand …’

I laugh. It feels good, like someone’s kneading the furrow out of my forehead. ‘I guess a lot depends on what kind of person our dad was, right? There could be ten of us. I just don’t know.’

‘Good point.’

‘That’s why I’ve got to tread carefully. Get a sense of what went on before I pop the confetti cannon and shout, “SURPRISE!”’

‘You didn’t pack a confetti cannon …’ says Rory, her voice two octaves lower.

‘No, I’m not a total maniac.’

‘Ha! Good. Look, I’ll drip-feed Lorrie some info about this sabbatical you’re on via Mum. If anything kicks off here, I’ll get a message to you.’

‘I wouldn’t bother texting. The reception is terrible, Kian’s warned me about that already.’

‘I’ll figure out something. Leave it to me, I’ll be your eyes and ears back in London.’

We both turn to the window when a man wearing a motorbike helmet appears, pointing to a pizza box held against his hip.

‘Is this a mad idea?’ I ask, my stomach tight.

‘Nah, window pizza delivery is the only solution to Mum’s shite cooking.’

‘No, going to