Sisters

by Michelle Frances

  Susanna picked up her glass and made her way outside to the terrace. It was late now and the crickets had quietened. Peace reigned. The stars were out. Susanna stared up at them, thinking what a perfect place this was. How it might now be possible for her to own such a place. To never have to live through a British winter again. To pack in her menial job. She could do anything; she’d never be fearful of what her future held. It was like a fairy tale with a happy ending.

  Her mother was sorry. That’s what she’d said. She’d actually admitted that she’d been a poor parent, that she’d treated her own daughter badly. Old memories came flooding back and Susanna took another gulp of wine. It was so long ago. She found herself looking at the olive tree next to her on the terrace. Her eyes sought out a branch, quite thin and without any burrs or small twigs attached to it as they hurt so much. It wasn’t too thin as that was another mistake. If she chose a branch that was too slight, her mother would make her pick another, something with more weight. Susanna instinctively rubbed her fingers against her palms, remembering the lashings. If she couldn’t list the capital cities of Europe or recite her times tables. Her mother had said it would focus her attention.

  As Susanna had got older the physical punishments had lessened but the control had been tighter. Kathleen had very strict ideas on which friends her daughter saw and boys were taboo. She went to an all-girls private school and wasn’t allowed out after nine o’clock at night – even in her late teens. After school was completed, she was brought into the fold of the business, under the tutelage of her father’s right-hand man.

  Susanna hated it all but was too terrified to change anything. She didn’t know how. Once, when she had said she was meeting a friend from school on a Saturday evening, her parents had found out she’d actually gone for a drink with a boy. In punishment for being deceitful, her parents had removed her bedroom door. She had no privacy, not even to get dressed.

  Miserable, Susanna could see no way out. Then, one lunchtime, she’d gone to her usual sandwich bar and been approached by a man who was so good-looking he gave her goosebumps. Danny told her he worked in some offices along the street. She told him she worked for her father’s business. He’d asked her out, later saying he’d fallen for her the first time he’d seen her. He was the epitome of joy and freedom and his charm was an ointment for her damaged self-esteem. Susanna had sneaked out on dates for three months, always nervous as hell that her parents would find out, as she was certain they’d disapprove of him. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the pressure of lying to them any longer, he proposed. They were only twenty, but of course she said yes.

  Her parents had been apoplectic, but Susanna knew they couldn’t stop her. Not when she felt so empowered now Danny had promised to look after her. Before long she was pregnant. Abby was born and Danny was disappointed at how his in-laws refused to help financially. They struggled on his salary, with Susanna then out of work as she was no longer welcome at her father’s company. The early devotion Danny had shown her quickly evaporated and he became more absent, no longer returning for bath time and spending his weekends doing overtime at the office.

  Ben came along a year later and Danny was overjoyed at having a son. For a while, to Susanna’s relief, things between the two of them got a bit better. Then Danny was passed over for a promotion and they had been counting on the salary increase. It was a real blow. Danny returned to working late and Susanna hated being in the house alone. Worse, she hated the feeling that he was avoiding her. She tried to tempt him back, made sure she didn’t complain when he rolled in at ten at night, smelling suspiciously of booze. She still gave him sex when all she wanted to do was curl under the covers and pass out with tiredness. Once, as he climbed into bed, she thought she could smell perfume on him, but when she tentatively asked him about it, he snapped and produced a bottle from his jacket pocket. A gift, he’d said, a surprise he was saving for her. She’d immediately felt guilty but wondered why he hadn’t given it to her straight away. She also wondered why he would have sprayed the testers on himself; it seemed out of character to her – he was too image-conscious to put women’s scent on his own skin. But by now she was pregnant again and terrified of being left alone. She still had no contact with her parents and was struggling with two demanding children, one of whom had recently been ill.

  One day Susanna got home from taking Abby and Ben to the park and found a note from Danny on the kitchen table. He said he ‘couldn’t handle it’. She tearfully begged him to reconsider when he phoned, but he became embarrassed, didn’t want to have anything more to do with her. He wouldn’t tell her where he was living and said something vague about staying on a friend’s sofa, of it not being suitable for young children. He said that once he was ‘settled’ he would arrange to have the children for visits. She couldn’t argue, not when he sent monthly bank deposits. They kept her afloat – it wasn’t enough to feel flush with cash but it kept them with food and clothes and a roof over their head. She often felt guilty that Danny must have been struggling to survive himself – with the amount he was sending, she thought it would be impossible for him to afford his own place.

  Then tragedy hit. Ben died and Susanna was devastated. It hit Danny hard too but still he wouldn’t come back to her, wouldn’t comfort her. At the funeral, Susanna learned why. He turned up, face reddened with tears, clutching the hand of a woman who was a decade older and owned an immensely successful recruitment business. Susanna had always pictured him sleeping on a crusty old sofa, no space or privacy, whereas he’d been living in a six-bedroomed mansion the whole time. She was dumbfounded. All that time he could have taken the children and he hadn’t. All that sympathy she’d thrown his way. It had all been lies and she was the fool who had fallen for them.

  Soon after, Danny had a new family and they were completely forgotten – except for the monthly deposits, which Susanna knew were paid for by his new, wealthy wife.

  All of that misery and shame could be wiped out now. Her mother was offering peace, reconciliation. The only thing she had to do was change her story. Say that it wasn’t Abby who had harmed her children – it was herself.

  SIXTY-ONE

  Dawn broke over the wooded hills south of San Sebastián, the light creeping like tendrils through the trees. A low mist hung near the ground, clinging to its last few minutes before it was obliterated by the growing power of the sun. A buzzing sound came from where the track ended and the pines began. Low at first, hardly impacting on the consciousness; then, going closer, it became louder, more chaotic.

  A mass of black flies swarmed, darting in and out, landing on the source of their frenzy.

  Matteo stood and looked at the body lying on the track. A man, believed to be in his early twenties. He lay on his back, his face exposed to the flies. They flew freely in and out of his open mouth, landed on the jellied surface of his staring eyes.

  Lieutenant Baroni was standing next to Matteo, also looking at the victim of what was clearly a murder. Blood soaked the ground. The forensic team were efficiently cordoning off the scene of the crime. The dog walker who’d called it in was being comforted somewhere down near the road with a strong coffee.

  ‘It’s a known criminal,’ said Baroni as the Spanish police busied around them. ‘Someone they’ve had dealings with before.’

  Matteo said nothing. He knew she was saving the best for next.

  ‘You think that bullet they pull out of him will match those in your gun?’

  Possibly. Matteo’s stomach sank like a stone. Or is it probably?

  Baroni turned to look behind her, beyond the parked-up police cars. ‘Tyre marks veering haphazardly from one side of the track to the other. Looks like a fast getaway.’ She turned back to him. ‘They’ll be able to match the tread. Could well be a Fiat 500.’

  Matteo could hear the hunger, the relish in her voice. He knew she was like a shark smelling blood, that she wouldn’t rest until she’d got the answers she wanted.

  Baron
i folded her arms. ‘So, Matteo, it seems your wife is more dangerous than you thought.’

  He wanted to deny it. But the words fell flat on his tongue.

  SIXTY-TWO

  Ellie sensed light prising open her eyelids. With the light came consciousness and with consciousness came pain. Her right leg felt as if an army of ants were under her skin, crawling up and down it. She tried moving and grimaced, muffling a groan. She opened her eyes, crusty with sleep, and was greeted by the sight of two suns rising over two hills. She blinked until they settled into one and watched as the green on the hill crest turned from bottle to emerald.

  They had parked up in the empty layby at about four in the morning, Abby so exhausted she could no longer drive. Ellie looked through the windows of the car, seeing in daylight where she’d spent the night. They were surrounded on all sides by rolling farmland, fields sectioned by trees. Sheep grazed in the distance, small dots of black and white venturing up the hillside. Further away, there was the cluster of red-roofed buildings of a town.

  Ellie heard Abby stir beside her. She waited while her sister came to.

  ‘Where exactly are we?’ said Abby, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Not sure. I lost track of the map for a bit while we were driving. When I fell asleep.’

  Abby got out of the car and stretched. Ellie took advantage of her sister’s distraction to ease herself out. She felt dizzy as she stood and tried to regain her balance while she gripped the car door, her eye catching something on the back seat.

  Abby turned. ‘Are you OK?’

  Ellie smiled. ‘Fine. What do you think of our bedroom view?’

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ She paused. ‘I wonder if they’ve found him yet.’

  ‘Who knows?’ Ellie hesitated. ‘Should we call it in?’

  ‘You mean, speak to the police?’

  ‘Well . . . yes.’

  ‘And tell them I’ve murdered someone as well as you? Double arrest?’

  Except I haven’t murdered anyone, thought Ellie. She wondered about telling Abby then, saying that Susanna was alive. After all, if, as she now thought, Abby was genuinely looking out for her, what harm could it do?

  Abby stared pensively at the hills, then shook herself. ‘We should get going.’ She pointed at a few bushes on the edge of a field. ‘Our bathroom?’

  ‘You first,’ said Ellie. She waited until her sister was out of sight and then looked back into the car at what had caught her eye. The gun was still lying on the back seat where Abby had thrown it the night before in their quick getaway. There was no need to be afraid anymore. Was there? Ellie looked up and saw her sister was still behind the bushes. She opened the back door of the car, quickly got the gun and put it back in her handbag.

  They hadn’t been driving long when Abby glanced down at the dashboard. ‘Fuel’s low again,’ she said. ‘Going through the night pretty much emptied the tank.’

  They found a petrol station and Abby pulled up at the pumps. Wearily she began to fill up. When the tank was full, she got back in the car next to Ellie.

  ‘Do you mind sorting it this time?’ she asked. ‘Only I feel so tired.’

  Ellie felt she could hardly refuse – her sister had paid for everything so far. She tentatively got out and glanced up at the pump, her stomach sinking as she saw the figure on the dial. She crossed the forecourt and went inside. There was no one else there so she went straight to the till and took out her purse to pay.

  Please work, please work, she prayed as she typed her PIN into the machine.

  A frown appeared on the cashier’s face. ‘No funciona,’ he said, and Ellie gave a casual smile to hide her panic.

  ‘That’s strange,’ she said. She made a pretence of looking for cash, knowing her purse was empty. Should she just go and ask Abby? Her heart sank. It was so shameful.

  ‘I’ll just get some money from my sister,’ she said brightly, indicating through the window at Abby sitting in the car outside.

  The cashier looked up, gave a cautious nod.

  Ellie left the shop as nonchalantly as she could and got back into the car. She paused. Now was the time to tell her sister that she was skint and she needed Abby to bail her out.

  Ellie took a deep breath, settled in her seat.

  ‘OK, all done.’

  Abby, still sluggish with fatigue, slowly started the engine.

  Hurry up, urged Ellie silently. She surreptitiously glanced towards the shop and saw the cashier watching them suspiciously.

  Abby stretched, pushing her arms up to the roof of the car. Then she dropped her arms down, looked out of the car window. ‘Why is that man running towards us?’

  Ellie turned her head to see the cashier running across the forecourt. ‘Go, go, go!’ she shouted.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Abby.

  ‘Just drive!’ yelled Ellie, and her sister finally put the car in gear and spun out of the petrol station.

  ‘What was all that about?’ cried Abby as they sped down the road.

  ‘Umm . . . my card didn’t work.’

  ‘What? You drove off without paying?’

  ‘Well, technically, you did.’

  ‘But that’s illegal!’

  The sun was higher now and Ellie reached into the glove compartment and put her sunglasses on. ‘So is shooting someone,’ she said.

  Abby narrowed her eyes. For a moment, Ellie thought she was going to go nuts. Then the corner of her mouth twitched. ‘Oh God, Ellie,’ she said. ‘You’re right, you’re right.’ She let out a small laugh. ‘Don’t do it again, OK? We need to get away, not leave any traces. Robbery leaves traces.’

  So do dead bodies, thought Ellie.

  ‘Why didn’t your card work?’

  ‘Um . . . I’m in a bit of debt.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘A few thousand.’

  ‘When you say a few, you mean—’

  ‘Eighteen thousand pounds,’ declared Ellie suddenly and the car fell silent. Ellie’s chest tightened. She felt exposed, as if she was going out into the street naked. She kept her eyes on the road ahead, didn’t want to see what she was certain was her sister’s gaping look of incredulity.

  ‘Eighteen grand?’ repeated Abby.

  Ellie bristled, felt her cheeks heat up.

  ‘From what?’ asked Abby.

  She shrugged. ‘Gradual build-up over the last few years.’

  ‘Build-up of what?’

  Ellie snapped her head round. ‘Could you stop saying it as if I’ve robbed a bank or something. And as you’re so keen . . . I don’t know really. Can’t pinpoint anything in particular.’

  Ellie felt the car slow and looked up at Abby in alarm. White-faced, her sister pulled over to the side of the road. She seemed detached, was staring out of the window.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Ellie.

  Abby turned to face her. ‘You can’t account for eighteen thousand pounds’ worth of spending?’

  Ellie huffed. ‘Look, I don’t get paid much. I work hard. I need to let off steam sometimes. Look after myself.’

  ‘But that’s so much money!’

  ‘It’s over years, Abby. I work all the hours I have to give at that school, and my salary barely touches the sides. I feel like I’m going round in circles. OK, so I know I could rent somewhere cheaper, maybe treat myself less often, but I also need to live my life.’ She paused. ‘You wouldn’t understand. I did so little when I was younger. Always ill, always missing out. My world was so small. I feel like I lost something that I’ll never get back.’

  ‘But Ellie . . . Eighteen thousand pounds!’

  The familiar panic fluttered up in Ellie again and she looked at her sister, but then something surprised her. She realized she felt sorry for Abby. At the effect the debt was having on her, and it wasn’t even her debt. Her sister didn’t seem to have the ability to understand that money could give you choices and experiences as well as security.

  ‘You never know how long you’ve got on this ear
th,’ said Ellie. ‘I guess I always had an underlying understanding of my own mortality from when I was young. You know, always being so ill. I didn’t ever tell anyone but when I was little I decided I had cancer. I thought I was going to die. I would go to bed and put a note under my pillow: “I love you, Mum. Bye bye.” In case I didn’t wake up in the morning.’

  Her sister was looking at her expectantly.

  ‘No, I didn’t include you.’ Ellie shrugged.

  Abby blinked and then barked out a laugh.

  ‘Look at last night,’ Ellie went on. ‘That could have ended very differently. It could have been us lying with our throats cut in those woods. What would your millions do for you then, Abby?’

  For once, her sister had nothing to say.

  SIXTY-THREE

  Matteo was sitting in the back of the police car, alone. He was far enough away from the crime scene to be unnoticed, which was how he liked it, but close enough that he could see what was going on. The tent was now up, covering the body; police and forensics crawled the area.

  It was quiet in the car and it gave him space to think. A man lay dead just a few metres from him, shot in the back. There was still no connecting evidence that Abby had done it, or that she’d even been to these woods, but he had a sense of foreboding that later on this afternoon the evidence would start to pile up. The bullet would be the same as those from his regulation police gun, fibres would be found on the corpse’s body, Abby’s hair might be on the ground amongst the blood and the leaves.

  Once all that happened, Matteo knew his wife would be wanted as a suspected murderer. It didn’t matter that the piece of scum on the hill probably deserved to die. Abby was armed and would be considered dangerous. When they caught up with her, there would be no softly, softly arrest. They would take her down.

  And what about him? How did he feel about his wife now she was the subject of a manhunt? And what about all that stuff when she was younger? Had she poisoned her brother, attempted to do the same to her sister?