The Sun Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Can’t we talk about this another time?’

  ‘Sorry, Electra, but Miles is your friend and he might have a valid opinion on the subject.’

  Yeah, right, I thought. He’d fly to the moon for you if you asked him to.

  I stood there as Stella outlined her plan for me to speak at the concert. I braced myself for Miles’s enthusiasm and subsequent persuasion to the cause.

  ‘Right,’ he said when Stella had finished. Then he turned and looked at me. ‘I can understand why you’re in two minds, Electra. You’ve been through a lot recently, and doing something like that – baring your soul in front of millions – takes real bravery. You need time to think about it, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I do,’ I said with feeling.

  ‘As I said to Electra, we don’t have that much time. I have to tell them by tomorrow so she can be put in the programme,’ Stella said.

  ‘I think the last thing Electra needs is that kind of pressure, if you don’t mind me saying, ma’am. Now, I’m gonna take your granddaughter out to dinner and the two of us can talk it through.’ Miles stood up. ‘Ready to go, Electra?’

  ‘Yup.’

  Then he reached out a hand and offered it to me. I walked across the room to him and took it and felt him squeeze it tightly. He turned to Stella.

  ‘It’s been a pleasure to meet you, and I hope we can talk again soon. Goodnight.’

  And with that, he led me out of the apartment.

  Maybe it was the swoosh of the elevator going down, but I felt a weird rush of something in my stomach that just might be called love. By the time we reached the lobby, there were tears in my eyes that I couldn’t explain.

  ‘Wasn’t that rude of us?’ I asked him as, still holding my hand, he walked me outside into the warm June night.

  ‘Oh, she’ll cope,’ he grinned at me, as he hailed a cab.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To a special place I know.’ He gave me a sideways glance. ‘You couldn’t be more suitably dressed if you tried.’

  We didn’t speak much on the journey. We were no longer holding hands and I wished we were. I could see we were heading uptown towards Harlem. We stepped out in front of a restaurant on the main drag and went inside.

  ‘Welcome to La Savane. Thought it was time you were introduced to some African cuisine.’

  Over delicious grilled fish, something called plantain and couscous, I gave him a potted version of what Stella had told me about my mom and her horrible death.

  ‘Wow, Electra, that’s all a very big deal. You sure you’re coping?’

  ‘Yeah, I am. I was worried that I wouldn’t, but it feels like my brain has had this humungous spring clean – a clear-out of all the shit that was in it, you know?’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve been baptised with holy water, and you’re starting afresh as a new person.’

  ‘Yup, if you want to use a religious metaphor, then that just about describes it. I expected to feel more upset about my mom – especially her terrible end – but as I said to Stella, I never knew her, and compared to the way I feel about Pa dying, it’s not hit me anywhere near as hard. I’ve decided I don’t want to go out to Hart Island – I read about it online and it sounds like such a miserable place. I mean, they buried unidentified bodies in a mass grave,’ I shuddered.

  ‘I agree, but maybe you could talk to Stella about marking her passing in some way.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s a cool idea, I will. I was also thinking how the sperm, as I call my biological dad, could still be alive.’

  ‘He could be, yes, and maybe one day you’ll get to find him if you want to. DNA testing is moving on fast, and I’m sure they’ll be building up some kind of data bank so that you can find blood relatives. But that’s not for now.’

  ‘No. Thanks for pulling me out of the apartment the way you did, by the way.’

  ‘I could see your grandmother was putting you under pressure and that’s the last thing you need right now. She’s a powerhouse, isn’t she? Full on when she wants something, but I guess that’s how she’s managed to achieve all those things. You don’t move mountains by not speaking up.’

  ‘What do you think about her idea of me telling my story to millions?’

  ‘That’s not for me to say, Electra.’

  ‘I know it isn’t, Miles, but I’ve got to ask someone their opinion, don’t I?’

  ‘I can see why she wants you to do it: you’re a public figure and an icon to young people across the world. Stella may be a thousand times more experienced in these things than you are, but any speech she gives won’t get the attention that a few words from you would attract.’

  ‘But I’m a face, not a voice.’

  ‘You are, and if that’s the way you prefer to stay, then don’t do this. The question has to be, Electra, is it?’

  ‘Yes . . . no . . . oh, I don’t know, Miles,’ I sighed. ‘I mean, I told you last night that I was thinking of making some changes. Modelling just isn’t enough for me anymore. And yes, maybe it is in my genes, but I do want to be a force for good and help kids like Vanessa. But there’s a big difference between doing a few press interviews about the drop-in centre – dipping my toe into the water – and my first gig as an activist being in front of millions of people.’

  ‘Yeah, I get that completely.’

  ‘I mean, maybe if I was still on the hard stuff, I’d be able to get up the courage to walk out on that stage, but—’

  ‘Don’t even say it, Electra. You can’t risk doing anything that would jeopardise your recovery.’

  ‘Even if I was doing something that could raise millions for the drop-in centre, and maybe other ones like it across America?’ I said, giving him a wry smile.

  ‘That would be cool, admittedly, but not at the risk of your mental health. And if you don’t feel you’re ready to deal with a big moment like this, then you just keep your powder dry and wait until you are.’

  ‘The problem is, I’m not good at waiting for anything, and if I was going to start this campaign – which I was anyway – then wouldn’t it be crazy to turn an opportunity like this down?’

  ‘No, because the most important thing is you, and what you can be in the future. I keep telling you that you’ve got to remember you’re still young.’

  ‘Well, at least I think I’ve found a place to channel all that fire and passion I have inside me. I’ve got to use it to help others, not dampen it down with the Goose. Like, use my anger issues as a positive force for change, and get angry on behalf of others.’

  ‘Totally. Excuse me,’ Miles said as I saw him well up.

  ‘Shit! Did I say the wrong thing?’

  ‘No, just the opposite. I’m just so damned proud of you, that’s all.’

  ‘Aw, Miles, don’t get me going too.’ I fanned myself as a young black woman walked up to our table, staring at me shyly. ‘Hi there,’ I smiled at her, glad of the distraction.

  ‘Hi, Electra. I . . . I just wanna say that, well, I’m a fan. Like, you bein’ black and successful and shit, you inspire me and my friends.’

  ‘Hey, thanks, I appreciate that.’

  ‘And I really like your new afro. Maybe I’m gonna give it a go – do the chop, cuz me and my posse just can’t afford the weaves and relaxers and stuff, y’know?’

  ‘Yeah, you go for it, honey, it’s the best decision I ever made.’

  ‘Can I take a picture with you?’

  ‘’Course you can. Come sit by me and my friend will do the honours.’

  Miles duly did so, and the girl walked away from the table smiling from ear to ear.

  ‘Aw, that was cute,’ I said. ‘Maybe I could do one last photoshoot with my afro and it might encourage other kids to escape the tyranny of the hairdresser.’

  ‘Well, if you ever wanted proof that you’re a role model, Electra, and anything you do is gonna be seen and heard by the youth around the world, I think that was it,’ said Miles.

  ‘As long as she doesn’t te
ll the paps she’s just seen us together, otherwise you’re going to end up with your face in the papers.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t know how you cope with that stuff. I couldn’t.’

  If you were with me, then maybe you’d have to . . .

  ‘Anyway, let’s talk about something else, shall we?’ I said abruptly. ‘I have a situation that I wanted to talk through with you. It’s to do with my PA and I wondered if you had any thoughts.’

  I explained the Mariam/Tommy scenario as Miles listened intently.

  ‘Yeah, that’s a tough one,’ he agreed. ‘She has her faith and he’s an Afghanistan vet . . .’ Miles shook his head. ‘What is it with us humans? We always seem to fall in love with somebody who presents us with all kinds of difficult dilemmas.’

  ‘But they love each other. They want to be together and if they could figure it out, selfishly, I’d have the perfect team. Tommy’s a great guy, Miles. And you already know how lovely Mariam is. I mean, you’re into the religious stuff; if you met, say, a Muslim woman or even a non-believer, would it stop you from moving on with the relationship?’

  ‘There’s two issues there, Electra. One is the fact there’s nothing specific in the Bible to say that women are forbidden from intermarriage. In Mariam’s religion, it is forbidden. The second, and to me the most important thing, is the social and cultural issue. Being part of a religion, whatever it may be, provides you with an identity, and a community of others who believe in the same moral codes as you. And in a world where morality seems to be slipping away day by day, those communities and that sense of identity become even more important. In my book anyway. So, for Mariam, I would have guessed that the thought of bringing an outsider into her “club” is just as big an issue as the fact it’s technically forbidden for her to marry him. And then you have Tommy, and his difficult experience out in Afghanistan, not to mention the Twin Towers and the hatred that’s left behind . . . The answer is, I don’t know. It’s a tough situation. Listen, why don’t I talk to him? Maybe I can explain a little bit better where Mariam is coming from. I know some about the Muslim faith – the good bits of it, I mean, of which there are many. He might need to be made aware of those right now.’

  ‘Would you, Miles? That would be amazing. Thanks.’

  Then a weird silence descended on the table, which felt really uncomfortable. Miles was staring at the wall behind me, so I fiddled with my napkin, sensing the change in atmosphere.

  ‘Listen, Electra. Maybe this isn’t the moment to talk about it, but . . .’ I saw him swallow hard. ‘I, well, I spoke to my pastor before I came over for some advice and he said I should just spit it out. So, here goes: you might have noticed that I enjoy your company a lot. And the truth is that I – despite my best intentions not to – have developed feelings for you. The point is, as I’m sure you learnt in rehab, two addicts in a relationship is not usually a cool thing. You’re only in the foothills of recovery too, which makes it even more dangerous. There’s always the risk that we drag each other back down into the shit. Then there’s the fact that you’re an international superstar, and I’m a two-bit lawyer who just about earns enough to keep body and soul together in this crazy expensive city we live in. I’m gonna be honest with you now and say that I am just not sure I could deal with the celebrity lifestyle you have. And even if I told you that the fact you earn a million times more than I do wouldn’t affect me, it might, because maybe my sad male ego couldn’t cope with it. And then there’s the fact that, now that I’ve said all this, you might not be interested in any relationship other than a platonic one, which would make this conversation null and void anyway.’

  At this point, he was leaning in towards me so that any listening ears wouldn’t be able to hear him. I could see he was waiting for an answer.

  ‘Okay, thanks for sharing, as they say in AA. Yup.’ I nodded. ‘I get everything you say.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And what? Oh, come on, Miles, are you going to make me say it out loud or what? Like, surely I’ve made it obvious I’m interested in you?’

  ‘Well, yeah, I know you like me, but I thought it was just maybe on a friendship level, because of our connection through helping Vanessa.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s all of that, but it’s . . .’ – I gulped – ‘more than that.’

  ‘Right, okay, I’m not sure whether that makes me happy or just shit scared.’ Miles sat back, relief on his face.

  ‘Are you seriously telling me you didn’t know? Like, how I felt about you?’

  ‘Yeah, girl, that’s what I’m saying,’ he smiled. ‘I mean, look at you! You’re famous, rich, with the world at your feet. You could have anyone, have had everyone . . .’

  ‘Hey! I haven’t had everyone,’ I countered indignantly.

  ‘I meant, superstars like Mitch Duggan, and that socialite guy with the stupid name . . .’

  ‘Zed Eszu, you mean.’

  ‘Yeah, him. If you’ll excuse me for saying, he looks like a total prick.’

  ‘Oh, he is, but that’s another story. And it’s true, I haven’t been a vestal virgin, and if you want one of those, don’t come knocking on my door.’

  ‘I’m not judging your morality, Electra, you’re single and free to do what you want. Though if you were ever with me and you cheated, then that would be the end.’

  ‘Good to know.’ I rolled my eyes at him. ‘Wow, Miles, you sound like a total lawyer, listing all the possible problems to our hypothetical relationship before we’ve even begun it! So, would you want to drag me into that church of yours and make me take vows of chastity?’

  ‘I sure would, yeah. In an ideal world, that is,’ he grinned. ‘Anyway, you telling me about Mariam and Tommy makes everything I’ve been worrying about seem small and insignificant in comparison. Put simply, I just dig being with you. You brighten up my day, I can’t wait to speak to you . . .’

  ‘Me too,’ I said. And we just sat there and smiled at each other.

  Then Miles reached out his hand across the table to me and I took it.

  ‘The point is, despite all my reservations, I think we’re good together, Electra, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know we are.’

  I woke up on Saturday morning not knowing whether I wanted to open the blinds and give the world the biggest hug ever for making me feel so happy, or run to the bathroom and vomit my guts up. I chose the former, just because it was so dark and the blinds needed to come up so I could actually see something. Thanking the world and a higher power for giving me Miles, I then felt my stomach roll at the thought of what I had agreed to do later today. My hands shook as I grabbed the speech that both he and Stella had helped me write yesterday. With the sheet of paper in front of me, I closed my eyes and tried to recite it, but my voice came out as a squeak.

  ‘Shit shit shit!’ I pulled the duvet over my face and lay there, contemplating asking Mariam to book me a jet to anywhere that wasn’t near New York. In my entire life, I’d never been as terrified as I felt right now.

  I got up, feeling my tummy churn and my heart beat hard against my chest, and went in search of coffee. Lizzie was standing in the kitchen, her wonky face devoid of make-up.

  ‘Morning, Electra. Sleep well?’

  ‘Nope. Next question?’ I said as I pulled the coffee pot from its stand and poured some into a mug.

  ‘Seriously, you’re going to be great, I just know it.’

  ‘Lizzie, I am so not, and I wish I’d never agreed to it. I’ll probably just run off stage in fright, if I ever manage to get my legs to walk me onto it in the first place and . . .’ I then swore loudly and thumped the table. ‘How did I ever allow myself to get talked into this?’ I groaned.

  ‘Because secretly, underneath all that understandable fear, you want to do it. For your mother, your grandmother, and for all those kids out there who need you to speak out for them,’ said Lizzie sagely.

  ‘That’s if I can speak . . . I tried to go through my speech and I could barely
talk. Shit, Lizzie, what have I done?’ I sat down at the table and rested my head on my arms.

  ‘Darling Electra, we’re all going to be with you and I just know you can do it. Now, why don’t you go out for a run and clear your head whilst I make breakfast?’

  ‘Because A, you’ve all banned me from running in the park since my mugging, and B, I’ll just vomit up any breakfast you offer me.’

  ‘Get dressed, Electra, and go downstairs. There’s someone waiting for you in the lobby. He’ll look after you, okay?’

  ‘Really? Who?’

  ‘You wait and see. Now, off you go,’ she said in her best maternal voice.

  I did so, still trying to work out who it could be that was waiting for me downstairs. Miles maybe . . . although when he’d kissed me goodnight yesterday (and it had been a very long and wonderful kind of kiss), he said he’d be round with Stella to collect me at three this afternoon.

  There wasn’t anyone in the lobby, so I jogged outside and nearly had a heart attack as someone tapped me on the shoulder. I was obviously still suffering from the after-effects of the mugging.

  ‘Hi, Electra. Gee, I’m sorry to startle you.’

  ‘Tommy! What are you doing here?’

  ‘Well, you did offer me a job as your bodyguard, and I guess I thought I’d better give you a free trial to see if I measure up.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Hey, I know you got a busy day, so let’s talk as we run, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  So off we went, Tommy comfortably keeping pace beside me. He told me how Miles had contacted him and they’d met up for a coffee a couple of days ago. How Miles had explained to him that the Quran was actually a beautiful book full of wisdom and grace, but that like any religious or political organisation, there would always be extremists who took words out of context and twisted them to suit their own purpose. And that if things were to progress with Mariam, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to join them.

  ‘I mean, I’m still working on all that,’ he said, ‘trying to get my head around it and stuff, but I bought a copy of the book, and Miles is right, it is beautiful. Mind you, it’s so long and I ain’t the greatest of readers, so my death might come before I get to finish it,’ he chuckled. And it was good to hear him laugh.