Shopaholic And Sister Part 21

"My Ph.D. is on the petrogenesis and geochemistry of fluorite-hemat.i.te deposits," she says, showing more animation than she has all day.

I don't think I understood one bit of that.

"Er . . . great!" I say. "So . . . how come you decided to study rocks?"

"My father got me into it," says Jess, and her face relaxes into a smile. "It's his pa.s.sion too."

"Dad?" I say in amazement. "I never knew he was into rocks!"

"Not your dad." She gives me a scathing look. "My dad. My stepfather. The man who brought me up."

Right.

Of course she didn't mean Dad. That was really stupid.

Suddenly my head is full of questions.

"So . . . did your dad . . . did he always know that you . . ." I trail off, not quite knowing how to put it.

"My dad knew I wasn't his, pretty much from the word go." Jess is turning a spoon over and over in her fingers. "But he raised me all the same. He never treated me any different from my brothers."

I dart a look at her averted face.

"Did you know?" I ask hesitantly. "That he wasn't really your dad?"

"Yes. But we didn't talk about it. He was my real dad, as far as I was concerned. Still is."

"Didn't you ever want to go looking for your . . . biological father?"

"I might have done." She stops rotating the spoon. "Once. But then Mum died and Dad was all I had left. I didn't need another dad. It was only when I found out about this blood disorder. I realized there could be people related to me, not knowing they were at risk. I felt responsible. It would have preyed on my mind." She looks up. "You should get yourself tested, Becky."

"Oh, I'm going to," I say quickly. "Dad already has been, but he's OK. And . . . er . . . thanks."

"No problem."

"So . . . what's your dad like?"

Jess deliberates for a while. "He's great," she says at last.

I wait for more details . . . but there don't seem to be any. I don't quite dare ask about her mum. Not until I know her better.

Jess sips her water and I fiddle with my chocolate wrapper, wondering what to talk about next. I'm slightly at a loss, which is ridiculous. This is my sister! Come on!

"So, are you going on holiday this year?" I ask at last. G.o.d, I must be desperate. I sound like a hairdresser.

"I don't know yet," says Jess. "It all depends."

Suddenly I have the most marvelous idea.

"We could go on holiday together!" I say in excitement. "Wouldn't that be great? We could get a villa in Italy or something . . . really get to know each other-"

"Rebecca, listen," Jess interrupts flatly. "I'm not looking for another family."

My face is suddenly hot.

"I-I know," I stammer. "I didn't mean . . ."

"I don't need another family," she presses on. "I said this to Jane and Graham in the summer. That's not why I tracked you down. It was my duty to contact you about the medical situation. That's all."

"What do you mean by 'that's all'?" I falter.

"I mean it's nice to meet you. And your mum and dad are great. But you've got your life"-she pauses-"and I've got mine."

Is she saying she doesn't want to get to know me?

Her own sister?

"But we've only just found each other!" I say in a rush. "After all these years! Don't you find it amazing?" I lean forward and put my hand next to hers. "Look! We have the same blood!"

"So what?" Jess looks unmoved. "It's just a biological fact."

"But . . . haven't you always wanted a sister? Haven't you always wondered what it would be like?"

"Not particularly." She must see the hurt on my face. "Don't get me wrong. It's been interesting to meet you."

Interesting? It's been interesting?

I push the froth around the cappuccino with my spoon. She doesn't want to get to know me. My own sister doesn't want to get to know me. What's wrong with me?

Nothing's going the way I planned. I thought today would be one of the best days of my life. I thought shopping with my sister would be fun. I thought we'd be bonded by now. I thought we'd be having coffee, surrounded by all our fab new things, laughing and teasing each other. . . .

"So, shall we go back to your mum's?" says Jess, draining her cup.

"What . . . already?" I say, startled. "But . . . we've got hours left. You haven't even bought anything yet!"

Jess sighs impatiently.

"Look, Becky. I wanted to be polite, so I came along today. But the truth is, I really can't stand shopping."

My heart sinks. I knew she wasn't having a good time. I knew she hated my taste. I have to salvage this.

"I know we haven't found the right shops yet." I lean forward eagerly. "But there are more. We can go into different ones-"

"No," Jess interrupts. "You don't get it. I don't like shopping. Full stop."

"Catalogs!" I say, suddenly inspired. "We could go home, get a load of catalogs . . . it'd be fun!"

"Can't you get this through your head?" Jess exclaims in exasperation. "Read my lips very carefully. I. Hate. Shopping."

When we arrive home, Luke is in the front garden, talking to Dad. As he sees us pulling into the drive he looks stunned.

"What are you doing back so soon?" he says, hurrying over to the car. "Is anything wrong?"

"Everything's fine!" I say. My brain still feels like it's short-circuited. "We were just . . . quicker than I thought we'd be."

"Thanks," says Jess, getting out.

"It was a pleasure."

As Jess heads toward Dad, Luke gets into the car beside me and closes the door.

"Becky, are you OK?"

"I'm . . . fine. I think."

I can't quite get my head round the day. My mind keeps replaying the way I fantasized it would be. The two of us sauntering along, swinging our bags, laughing happily . . . trying on each other's things . . . buying each other friendship bracelets . . . calling each other by little nicknames. . . .

"So? How was it?"

"It was . . ." I force a bright smile. "It was really good fun. We both had a great time."

"What did you buy?"

"A couple of tops . . . a really nice skirt . . . some shoes . . ."

"Mmm-hmm." Luke nods. "And what did Jess buy?"

For a moment I can't speak.

"Nothing," I whisper at last.

"Oh, Becky." Luke sighs and puts his arm round me. "I know you wanted to find a soul mate. I know you wanted Jess to be your new best friend. But maybe you'll have to accept that you're just . . . too different."

"We're not too different," I say stubbornly. "We're sisters."

"Sweetheart, it's OK," says Luke. "You can admit it if you don't get along. No one will think you've failed."

Failed?

"We do get along!" I say, stung. "We do! We just need to find a bit more . . . common ground. So she doesn't like shopping. But that doesn't matter! I like things other than shopping!"

Luke is shaking his head.

"Accept it. You're different people and there's no reason why you should get on."

"But we've got the same blood! We can't be that different! We can't be!"

"Becky-"

"I'm not going to give up, just like that! This is my long-lost sister we're talking about!"

"Sweetheart-"

I cut him off. "I know we can be friends. I know we can."

With sudden determination I wrench open the car door and get out.

"Hey, Jess!" I call, hurrying across the lawn. "After your conference, do you want to come and stay for the weekend? I promise we'll have a good time."

"That's a nice idea, love!" says Dad, his face lighting up.

"I'm not sure," says Jess. "I really have to get back home. . . ."

"Please. Just one weekend. We don't need to go shopping!" The words come tumbling out of me. "It won't be like today. We can do whatever you like. Just have a really low-key, easy time. What do you think?"

My fingers are twisting into knots. Jess glances at Dad's hopeful face.

"OK," she says at last. "That would be nice. Thanks."

PGNI FIRST BANK VISA.

7 CAMEL SQUARE.

LIVERPOOL L1 5NP.

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PGNI FIRST BANK VISA.

7 CAMEL SQUARE.

LIVERPOOL L1 5NP.