The Sister: A psychological thriller with a brilliant twist you won't see coming

by Louise Jensen

  ‘I have to eat in this, you know.’ I turn to look in the mirror. All thoughts of food vanish as I gape at my reflection.

  ‘It is good, yes? I have chosen well.’

  Marilyn Monroe has nothing on me. I look old-school Hollywood glamour: curves accentuated, bulges hidden.

  ‘It’s incredible.’ I stroke the material. ‘I’d never have picked this in a million years. Mum wears a lot of green, but I never thought it suited me.’

  ‘This is why you need me,’ Tamsin says. ‘eBay? Pfft. Now, accessories…’

  A gold choker is fastened around my neck, a matching bangle looped over my wrist.

  Act confident, Charlie used to tell me. Fake it till you make it. I feel confident in this dress. Sexy, even. Who knew clothes could be so empowering? I lower the tone of the boutique by taking a selfie and texting it to Esmée.

  The curtains swing open. ‘Look, Anna.’ I twirl. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Honestly?’ She wrinkles her nose.

  ‘Honestly.’ My hands flutter towards my tummy as if I can hold my confidence in place, stop it escaping.

  She looks me up and down. ‘I always think bigger girls should stick to black. Much more flattering.’

  I close my eyes to escape my many reflections. How ridiculous to think I could be anything other than what I am.

  ‘I disagree,’ says Tamsin.

  ‘But you’re trying to make a sale, aren’t you? I’m speaking as her best friend.’

  ‘I think Grace has a beautiful figure. Many of our customers are a size fourteen.’

  ‘Grace is beautiful on the inside; that’s the most important thing.’

  ‘Can someone unzip me?’ I snap. I’m hot and uncomfortable, and feel like an overstuffed pillow – shapeless and bumpy.

  ‘I’ll try the black one please, Tamsin.’

  I feel boring in the black.

  ‘That looks great,’ Anna says. ‘It really disguises your tummy rolls. I think you should get it.’

  My phone beeps. Esmée: ‘Hun, you look gorgeous.’

  ‘Esmée likes the green.’

  ‘Esmée isn’t here,’ Anna says. ‘You can’t see all angles from a photo. It’s up to you, though; I’m just trying to help. The black one will last you for years; it’s a classic, and you don’t look as lumpy as you did in the green.’

  ‘I don’t choose dresses that make people look lumpy.’ Tamsin gives Anna a withering look. ‘This one, it’s not as stunning as the green,’ says Tamsin, ‘but it’s perfectly acceptable, yes?’

  ‘I did like the green.’

  ‘Good for you, if you think you have the confidence to carry it off,’ says Anna. ‘Honestly, Grace. Dan will be proud to have you on his arm, however you look.’

  ‘If you want to try both on at home you have fourteen days to make a return, as long as the item is unworn and the tags are still on it.’

  ‘I’ll take both.’

  At the till, the dresses are folded, wrapped in scented tissue paper and placed in a box, silver stars sprinkled on top.

  ‘Do you want the red silk dress?’ Tamsin asks Anna.

  ‘I can’t afford it, and I don’t know where I’d wear it.’

  ‘It never hurts to have a formal dress in case an opportunity presents itself. It is a one-off. Very beautiful, yes?’

  ‘It is. I’ll have to pass, though.’

  ‘Let me buy it for you,’ I say.

  ‘I can’t let you pay; you’ve done so much for me already.’

  ‘I want to. It’s a thank you for all you’ve done for me, actually. Meeting you has really cheered me up and I loved the spa day. God knows what I’d be wearing tonight if you hadn’t brought me here.’

  ‘Thanks, Grace.’ Anna hugs me, scurries off to fetch her dress.

  ‘You are good friends, yes?’ asks Tamsin.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘We are.’

  The boutique door swings shut behind us and I stand blinking in the sunlight, gulping fresh air, not quite believing I’ve just spent nearly £300. I hope I can intercept the credit card bill before Dan sees.

  ‘Let’s get a coffee,’ says Anna. ‘My treat.’

  ‘Yes. Shall we go to…’ I tail off. On the opposite side of the road, a figure in a black coat is staring at me. Is it the same person who was outside the coffee shop, and at the cemetery that day with Lexie? The driver of the red car?

  I clutch Anna’s arm. ‘No time for questions, but can you make out whether that’s a man or a woman over there?’ I point.

  Anna squints, and slides her sunglasses from the top of her head to cover her eyes. ‘I can’t see anything. It’s too bright. Hang on.’ She dashes across the road, but by the time she gets there the figure has gone and I’m not quite sure if they were ever there at all.

  22

  Then

  The empty hangers in my wardrobe rattled together as I pulled out another dress, held it against myself, and discarded it on the floor. Despite my lack of sleep – Mum and I had stayed up talking until dawn – and my hangover, I wanted to look my best this evening. Who’d have thought I could end up with Dan and rebuild my relationship with Mum all in one night?

  I touched two fingers to my lips. They tingled when I thought of last night’s kiss, and happiness bubbled inside me like champagne. Charlie and I were only going to the local pub to meet Ben and Dan but I’d taken extra care with my make-up: eyes lined a little darker, lips glossier. It may have been a Sunday evening, but it felt like a special occasion – and to top it off, I was legally old enough to drink now. No sitting in the corner nursing a Coke, sneaking vodka in my glass while Mike, the landlord, wasn’t looking, from a half-bottle Charlie had hidden in her bag.

  There was a tap on my door. ‘Come in.’

  Mum perched on the edge of my bed, patted the space next to her. ‘I’m going soon, darling; it’s a long drive back to Devon.’

  ‘I wish you could stay.’ I sat next to her and rested my head on her shoulder.

  ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ She hugged me. ‘Christmas with my girl. I wanted to tell you that now you’re eighteen you’ve come into a trust fund. Daddy left us very well provided for in case the worst ever happened.’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How will I know I’ve met the one?’

  ‘Do you remember when you had ballet lessons, you used to teach Daddy the steps?’

  ‘Yes.’ I smiled at the memory of us wrapped in old pink bedroom curtains, dancing around the lounge.

  ‘There was this big, strong, dependable man that we all looked up to. He spent all day in the surgery diagnosing illnesses, saving lives and listening to the lonely and sick. He was very well respected. Always fundraising for the village and on the local council.’ Mum squeezed my hand. ‘He’d come home, put a pink skirt on and dance to Swan Lake, just to make his little girl smile. All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, Grace. When you meet someone, ask yourself, “Would they wear pink curtains for me?” and you won’t go far wrong. Have you met someone?’

  ‘Yes. I think so.’

  ‘I have something else to tell you.’ I could guess what was coming. ‘I’ve met someone too. Oliver.’

  I waited for the stabbing pain to come. The tears. The sense of betrayal. Instead, I pictured my strapping Dad pirouetting around the lounge.

  ‘Dad would be glad.’ And I believed that. He wanted the best for her. For us. Always.

  ‘Thanks, darling. I would like very much for you to meet him. I could bring him when I come back next month?’

  ‘I’d like that, too.’ And I found that I meant it.

  I had to redo my make-up after Mum left, removing streaks of mascara with cotton wool pads steeped in baby lotion. I’d chosen one of Mum’s old 60s tunics: the aqua swirling pattern looked like water being sucked down a plughole. I spun around, checking my reflection from behind, hoping that my bottom was covered. Although
I was wearing black opaque tights and leather boots, I felt self-conscious, and I practised flicking my hair back, to exude a confidence I didn’t really feel. My nails were cherry red, a daring choice for me, and I blew on them, wanting the varnish to harden so I could check my mobile again. It had buzzed so frequently with texts from Dan I’d had to plug it in to recharge.

  Charlie thundered up the stairs and burst into my room, a silver gift-wrapped box tucked under her arm.

  ‘This is for you. I found it on the step.’

  ‘Ooh, a late birthday present. Wonder what it is.’

  ‘Grace’ was scrawled across the paper in felt pen, in spidery handwriting I didn’t recognise.

  ‘You could always try, I dunno, opening it.’

  ‘In a sec. Wet nails.’ I sat cross-legged on the bed, splayed out my fingers and shook my hands. ‘I can’t wait to see Dan. We’ve been messaging all day.’

  ‘You had a better night than me. Bloody Mum. She was more pissed than all of us put together.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Really weird. Didn’t want me to come tonight. She’s gone out, though. Want me to open the present?’

  ‘No.’ I checked the tackiness of my thumbnail with the pad of my index finger. Picked up the gift. ‘It’s light.’

  ‘Maybe it’s full of kisses,’ Charlie grinned.

  A white envelope fluttered to the floor as I eased the cardboard shoebox out of the paper.

  ‘Shoes: very Cinderella,’ said Charlie. ‘Think Prince Charming sent them?’

  I rested the box on top of my bed and opened the envelope, unfolding the sheet of lined A4 paper inside.

  ‘Is it from Dan?’

  My hand flew to my throat.

  ‘Who’s it from, Grace?’

  I handed Charlie the note, too shocked to speak.

  ‘What the fuck?’

  I chewed my thumbnail as she studied the paper. Unlike the label, it wasn’t handwritten. Letters had been cut from a newspaper or magazine, glued together to form the word ‘BITCH’. It looked like a ransom note. It looked like a joke – but I wasn’t laughing.

  ‘Open the box, Grace.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  Charlie reached over and lifted the lid, then recoiled as the stench of dog shit filled the room. She slammed the lid down, but it wasn’t square and the box tipped on its side. Excrement fell onto my bedspread. I gagged. Charlie wrenched the cover from the bed, bundled everything together and flew downstairs. I flung open my window and took huge gulps of cold November air. Damp circulated around my lungs, causing me to choke.

  ‘Breathe, Grace.’ I’d been so lost in my thoughts I hadn’t heard Charlie come back in the room. She rubbed my back and I felt myself relax under her warm palm.

  ‘Where did you put it?’

  ‘In the bin. Do you want me to tell your grandparents?’

  I sniffed. ‘I don’t know. Grandma will notice the bedspread’s missing. She made it herself.’

  ‘Who do you think sent it?’

  ‘I can’t think of anyone I’ve upset, except…’

  ‘Siobhan.’

  ‘Yes. But surely she wouldn’t do this? I know she fancies Dan, but…’

  ‘She’s fancied him for years. She did catch you kissing. The paper looked like it was torn from a school exercise book.’

  ‘What shall I do?’

  ‘We’ll ask her. She might be there tonight with Esmée.’

  We fell silent. I shivered and slammed the window shut.

  ‘C’mon. It’ll be fine.’ Charlie clasped my hand and tugged me through the heavy wooden door to the Hawley Arms. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor as we walked towards the bar, taking deep breaths of stale, musty air.

  ‘Badger’s Bottom?’ Charlie raised an eyebrow as she studied the optics.

  ‘You may laugh, but we have the best selection of real ales for miles.’ Mike, the landlord, was polishing pint glasses. He held one up to the light and rubbed a smear with his cloth. ‘Tony said you might be in.’ Mike and Grandad had been friends for years. ‘You’re in for a treat tonight.’

  ‘Squirrel’s Tail to go with the Badger’s Bottom?’

  Mike scratched his beard and appraised Charlie, before turning back to me. He leaned forward. The smell of stale smoke clung to his clothes. ‘Karaoke.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘It’s what they’re all doing in London. Got to move with the times. Look,’ he gestured behind him. ‘We sell Scampi Fries now as well as crisps. New in today.’

  ‘Really forward-thinking.’

  I kicked Charlie on the ankle. ‘That’s great, we’ll have two bags of Scampi Fries and two Strongbows for now, please, Mike.’

  I stuffed the snacks into my bag and picked up my pint. The glass was slippery with condensation, and so full I had to take a sip before I could carry it to the table in front of the fire.

  As we drank, the warm bloom of alcohol spread through my veins and my muscles began to unclench. Charlie nudged me in the ribs and my cider sloshed over my hand. I licked it off and followed her gaze to the bar. Dan was pulling change from his pocket, paying for drinks for himself and Ben. I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen him as he walked towards us, but I could feel heat rising through my body.

  ‘Room for two more?’

  ‘You two?’ My voice was small and high.

  ‘No, I thought the two bearded guys sat at the bar.’

  Dan squeezed between Charlie and me and the hairs on my arm prickled as our thighs touched. We’d been messaging all day but I felt uncomfortable with the shift in our relationship. I didn’t know how to act, who to be.

  I gulped my drink, draining the glass, and stood to get another.

  ‘Let me.’ Dan touched my arm.

  I clunked the empties into the middle of the table to make way for the tray full of pints and Walkers crisps that Dan came back balancing in his hands. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up and his forearms were covered in fuzzy dark hair that I hadn’t noticed before.

  By the time nine o’clock came and the karaoke started, I was no longer stiff and uncomfortable. Siobhan hadn’t turned up and I pushed my thigh against Dan’s, laughing too loudly at his jokes. Charlie sprang up to sing ‘Hit Me With Your Best Shot’. We whistled and cheered as she strutted up and down the makeshift stage. Afterwards, she sat on Ben’s lap, their mouths locked together, her hands entwined in his hair. Dan turned towards me. ‘Let’s find somewhere quieter.’

  He picked up our drinks and I followed him through to a tiny round table in the corner of the lounge.

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ he asked, once we were settled.

  ‘You know everything; I’ve known you for years.’

  ‘Not like this.’ Dan sandwiched my hand between his; my fingers tingled.

  ‘Tell me about your dad, Grace.’

  I didn’t think I wanted to, but once I started talking, words began to pour out of me in an uncontrollable flow. By the time Mike rang the bell for last orders, Dan knew almost everything about me. The fabric of our relationship had changed into something that I didn’t yet understand. As he rubbed his thumb across the contours of my knuckles I felt a tug of longing I hadn’t experienced before.

  ‘Can I walk you home?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘How about I get some bottles to take out? If we leave now we’ll catch the chippy before it shuts?’

  ‘Great.’ I was really hungry. I’d been too busy replaying the events of my party to eat dinner. Grandma had grumbled as I’d pushed roast potatoes around my plate.

  I told Charlie we were leaving. She smiled through bee-stung lips. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

  ‘That leaves me with plenty of scope. I’ll call you tomorrow.’ I kissed her goodbye and as I walked towards the door I was aware of Dan’s hand resting on the small of my back, his warmth penetrating my winter coat. There was a frost, and I
linked my arm through his as we hurried down the high street, lit by street lamps and the blue glow of television sets from the row of net-curtained stone cottages. The smell of frying fish wafted up the road and I thought about what I was going to have. I always found it difficult to choose between mushy peas or curry sauce.

  The chip shop was warm despite the glass door being propped open, and I pulled off my gloves as we joined the back of the queue.

  ‘What do you fancy?’ I asked.

  ‘You,’ said Dan, tilting my chin, brushing his lips over mine.

  ‘Chips, Grace? Aren’t you fat enough already?’

  I spun around. Siobhan stood behind me, hands on hips, scarlet lips twisted into a sneer. Abby giggled, a couple of steps behind her.

  ‘Siobhan, I…’

  ‘Grace isn’t fat, she can eat what she wants.’ Dan looped his arm over my shoulders.

  ‘Of course she can. I wouldn’t eat chips from here, though. They taste like shit.’ Siobhan flounced out of the door.

  The vision of the box, the dark brown excrement splattered over the cardboard, was suddenly vivid in my mind. My stomach rolled as I gulped in the oily air.

  ‘Next,’ called the man behind the counter. I stumbled from the shop, doubled over and vomited four pints of cider onto the icy pavement.

  ‘You shouldn’t have crossed my sister,’ said Abby, as she stomped down the road after Siobhan. ‘Watch your back, Grace.’

  23

  Now

  The figure stands as still as stone. It may be broad daylight but the sun, the people, don’t make me feel any safer. I pull Anna into the nearest coffee shop. It doubles as a wine bar in the evenings. I slide into a tan leather booth, cradling our shopping, and while I wonder what to do, Anna joins the queue for drinks.

  ‘That was quick.’ Anna hands me a mug of hot chocolate.

  ‘They do proper chocolate here, none of that powdered rubbish.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘I hope I didn’t offend you in the boutique, Grace. You did look beautiful in the green dress. I just preferred the black. I can’t wait to wear mine; I’ve never owned anything so gorgeous.’