Blood Sisters: The #1 bestselling thriller from the author of My Husband's Wife

by Jane Corry

  But it wasn’t enough for Vanessa. ‘That’s not the secret I was talking about …’

  That was when Kitty realized that she didn’t like Vanessa any more. And that, despite everything, a real sister was more important than a blood sister.

  Her so-called friend Vanessa hadn’t even called out when Kitty then pushed her to shut her up. Or if she had, it had been lost in the roar of the car which appeared almost out of nowhere.

  And after that, she couldn’t remember anything. Until the baby was born.

  77

  February 2018

  Alison

  The machine is racing on. Yet my mind is still reeling from what Kitty has just said. I replay, again and again in my mind, my own memories of those crucial moments leading up to the accident …

  ‘Do you honestly think he’d be interested in you?’

  Vanessa’s cold eyes. ‘Why not? Actually, that’s not the secret I was talking about. Come on, Kitty, you tell her or I do …’

  ‘No,’ said Kitty. She grabbed Vanessa’s arm. ‘Stop. Don’t say any more.’

  Vanessa shook her off. ‘Leave me alone. Why shouldn’t I say? I don’t owe you any loyalty. Fine kind of blood sister you are.’

  Roaring in my ears.

  Roaring all around.

  Two shapes flying through the air …

  ‘Alison,’ says Sarah gently. ‘Is this true? Kitty pushed Vanessa?’

  For a moment I can’t move. Then I nod.

  ‘Can you tell us why you took the blame?’

  I’ve asked myself this question over and over again since that July morning. Kitty had been horrid to me for most of my life. Even Robin had questioned why I continued to be nice to her. But I just couldn’t get rid of that longing inside. The need to have a sister who loved me. Who cared the way sisters are meant to care for each other. I kept thinking that one day she would grow out of it. That she would love me back. I pictured us as being best friends in the way that Vanessa and she were. I was jealous – I admit it – of Vanessa. I wanted Kitty to love me in the same way. I also knew that would make Mum happy.

  But that’s not the whole truth. And now it falls on me to fill in the missing piece.

  ‘I took the blame because none of this would ever have happened if I hadn’t forged a note in my sister’s handwriting.’

  ‘You?’ blurts out the machine.

  I’m looking straight at Kitty now. It’s as if there are only the two of us in the room. ‘You spilt coffee on my French essay. It’s why I messed up your knitting for the Guide Craft badge.’

  ‘You did that?’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t have ruined my essay.’

  It is as though we are arguing just as we’d done as kids. Except the machine is doing it for Kitty.

  ‘And I thought you’d hidden my history file too.’

  Kitty is thumping her good arm on the chair so hard that Mum has to restrain it. ‘No I didn’t!’

  ‘But I thought you had, you see. It was … well, it was just the sort of thing you would have done. It sounds childish now but at the time it was so real. You knew how important history was to me. I thought you wanted to destroy my chances of going to university. So I borrowed your English exercise book for an hour. I copied your handwriting and wrote a note to Vanessa, saying you didn’t want to be her friend any more. That’s what I thought Vanessa was talking about when she said she knew something else. I presumed she’d found me out. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘OK. But why did you take the blame when I pushed Vanessa?’

  Everyone is waiting. Deep breath.

  ‘That day – you were standing up for me to Vanessa.’ My eyes are full of tears. ‘That was the first time you showed that you really cared about me. And then … then … the car came racing round the corner. You got hit. Vanessa died. And all I could think about was what Crispin had done to me. He deserved to be punished. How could I let you take the blame when you were in such a terrible state already? Later, when I came to see you in the home, I felt so awful. So guilty. Especially as you were pregnant. What kind of life would your child have thanks to me? If I hadn’t forged that note, you two might not have fallen out and then none of this would have happened. Something inside me said I had to take the blame. I considered myself responsible for your injuries. My actions meant I had blood on my hands. They led to your best friend’s death. So when it all came out I said the truth – I pushed you. I just didn’t tell them the rest of the story. That you got up and then pushed Vanessa.’

  Sarah leans forward, looking me in the eye. ‘When a shock like this happens, people can often assume responsibility for an action that had nothing to do with them. In a way, it’s a bit like self-harming.’ She glances at my covered arms. ‘It makes us feel better sometimes to shoulder the blame. It might not seem logical, but it happens.’

  Lily nods. She looks rather distant. ‘I get that.’

  I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘It wasn’t until I saw Kitty, lying there all crumpled up, that I realized how much I really loved my sister. Even though I didn’t like her at times.’

  ‘Thanks!’ chips in the machine’s voice.

  I almost laugh. Except it’s not funny. It’s true. Love is close to hate when it comes to sisters. You’re as close as two humans can be. You came from the same womb. The same background. Even if you’re poles apart, mentally. That’s why it hurts so much when your sister is unkind. It’s as though part of you is turning against yourself.

  And that’s why Vanessa was so jealous. She might have claimed to be a blood sister. But it’s not the same thing.

  Kitty, on the other hand, acted like a real sister. She’s the one who wanted to shield me from the truth about my father. David might have promised not to tell me directly but he’d made a big mistake in thinking that he could use his own daughter to tell me and get back at Mum that way. She could have done, so easily – just minutes before the crash. She could have allowed Vanessa to spill the beans. But she stopped her. It’s a sad tragedy that Crispin’s mother was racing round the corner at the time.

  ‘I begged her not to die,’ I add, recalling how I had knelt over Kitty’s body.

  Mum is white. ‘Did you really have to send yourself to prison?’

  I reach out for her hand. ‘You’d been punished enough seeing Kitty in the state she is in.’ My grip tightens. I think back to my men in Archville: the ones I’d worked with quite happily until I knew what their crimes had been. ‘How would you have managed if you’d known that she’d pushed Vanessa in front of the car?’

  Mum is silent. It’s answer enough.

  Sarah clears her throat. ‘My feeling, Alison, after getting to know you in the last few months, is that you might have had a breakdown after the rape, and then the accident. You’ve never got over the shock. It’s not surprising.’

  I think back to that terrible time when it felt as though there was a lead weight on my chest. The grief was too deep to cry. Vanessa’s death and Kitty’s horrific injuries were too terrible to be true. How could the rest of the world go on around them when something like this had happened? Something I had started.

  ‘You didn’t have any counselling at the time, did you?’ says Sarah softly.

  I glance at Mum. ‘No.’

  ‘No one suggested it,’ she says desperately.

  ‘Please – I’m not blaming you. Counselling wasn’t so common in those days. I’m just saying that not all head injuries are obvious.’ She glances at Kitty. ‘And I think, Alison, that you are still suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.’

  Could she be right?

  ‘Take the identity of the driver. You said it was Crispin. Did you feel bad about lying?’

  I hang my head. ‘Yes,’ I whisper. ‘Well, not at first. I did it out of anger. But when he didn’t deny it, I couldn’t take it back. And then over the years, I’ve … I’ve honestly convinced myself it was him at the wheel. It was the only way I could cope with the
fact that I’d put an innocent man into prison.’

  Meanwhile, Lily the barrister is writing furiously. ‘Would you say in court,’ she asks Sarah, ‘that the rape, combined with the shock of the accident, made Alison take the blame for an accident that she did not cause?’

  ‘I would,’ says Sarah. Her eyes are milky with sympathy. ‘If you ask me, you were the one who was pushed – mentally – over the edge.’

  My throat swells. My eyes blur.

  ‘Some people,’ adds Sarah, ‘have an overactive conscience, especially if they’re constantly seeking praise or have low self-esteem.’

  I wince. So does Mum. I can tell she’s beating herself up too.

  ‘Hang on,’ Mum says in a quiet voice. ‘If Kitty pushed Vanessa, does that mean she could be tried for manslaughter now?’

  Lily’s usually steady voice now wavers slightly. ‘It’s unlikely, given her condition, and that she was a child at the time. And there’s something else that should be taken into consideration.’ She reaches into her bag and brings out a black book. It has a year written on it in silver loopy writing: 2001.

  ‘Vanessa’s mother gave it to me after I went to see her recently. It’s her daughter’s diary.’

  The first page falls open. It is dated 2 March 2001.

  My mother loves me more than anyone else …

  When we finish reading, Mum and I look at each other for a long time.

  ‘It looks,’ whispers Mum, ‘as if Vanessa was jealous of the two of you. She wanted Kitty all to herself.’

  My mouth is dry. ‘But she was also angry with Kitty for the note that said she didn’t want to be her best friend any more.’ My voice comes out as a cry. ‘It was my fault.’

  ‘No.’ Mum takes my hand. ‘It’s mine for letting David spoil Kitty. For not telling you the truth about your father in the first place. I’m so sorry, my love. I was scared. I didn’t want to be alone again.’

  I can see that.

  ‘It must be very hard,’ Mum continues, ‘to be an only child.’

  How often had I wished during my childhood that I didn’t have a sister. It was only when Kitty had been so terribly injured that I’d appreciated what we’d had – or rather what we could have had.

  ‘I know Kitty wasn’t easy,’ says Mum. ‘But I always hoped that when you both grew older, you’d get closer. Poor Vanessa didn’t have that hope. Look at this entry.’

  It’s dated 1 January. Just over six months before the accident.

  My Christmas wish still hasn’t come true – the one that I made a whole year ago when I helped Mum make the cake. I asked for a brother or a sister. It only takes nine months. I know that from biology at school. But nothing’s happened.

  My mother’s eyes are blurred with tears. ‘Vanessa’s mother had several miscarriages. She told me once.’

  I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘Some of the entries sound very grown up.’

  ‘Only children often are. I always thought she acted like someone who was far older.’

  That was true. It just seems a shock to read these adult thoughts on the page.

  But it’s the final entry that really gets me.

  16 July 2001

  Tomorrow’s the big day.

  After that, Kitty will be all mine. Like a real blood sister.

  Ali will blame her for sharing the secret with me.

  And she won’t want anything to do with Kitty again.

  It occurs to me, as I read this, that Vanessa and Kitty have just handed me the key to my particular prison. Yet I don’t want it. I deserve to be locked up for ever. Not just because of what happened that day. But for something else.

  78

  February 2018

  Kitty

  On the way home Kitty pretended to be asleep like baby Vanessa. But inside, her heart was going thud, thud, thud. ‘It was the machine’s fucking fault,’ she kept saying to herself. Yet at the same time, she felt a whole lot better inside. It was like this big weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Almost as heavy as that huge wave which had nearly carried her off until Half a Sister had rescued her all those years ago.

  But now Lily had Vanessa’s diary! Vanessa would go mad if she knew that. No one was allowed to look at her diary. Not even Kitty. ‘No,’ Vanessa used to say when she was writing in it. ‘It’s mine. PRIVATE. See? Can’t you read?’

  The funny thing was that she still loved Vanessa, even though she’d been so horrid at times. That’s why she’d called the baby after her. ‘Love makes no sense.’ She’d heard someone say that on the telly. And it was true.

  When they finally got back, Friday Mum took ages to get her into the house. ‘Stop it,’ she said when Kitty grabbed her arm to make her hurry up. ‘You’ll give me another bruise. Your father should be around more. It’s not fair.’

  Flabby Face Dad? No way. Kitty shuddered. If he hadn’t told her the secret about Ali’s dad, none of this would have happened. No wonder he’d upset her so much in the home. They were better off without him.

  Then little Vanessa began to yell.

  ‘Stop it,’ shouted Kitty. ‘You’re hurting my ears.’

  But, as usual, all that came out was a loud stream of nonsense.

  ‘Where’s the carer?’ Friday Mum ran her hands through her hair. ‘She’s meant to be here by now to help put you to bed.’

  ‘How the fuck should I know?’

  Maybe it was just as well they’d left the machine behind. Sometimes Kitty almost felt ashamed of the things her mouth came out with. And her throat hurt with all the angry noise that she just couldn’t stop.

  ‘I don’t know who to feed first,’ cried Friday Mum. ‘You or Vanessa.’

  ‘Me! Me!’

  But the baby was screaming loudest. Friday Mum picked her up and held her close, right next to the wheelchair. ‘There, there, little one. It’s all right.’ Then she glanced down at Kitty. ‘You’ll just have to wait a bit, love. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  That wasn’t bloody fair.

  ‘Kitty!’ shouted Friday Mum. ‘What are you doing? Let go of her. You’ll break her leg.’

  ‘Then fucking well feed me first.’

  Her grip tightened. Vanessa was bawling so much it sounded as though she was choking.

  ‘Stop right now!’

  Why should she? It wasn’t right that the baby always got more attention. Ouch!

  Kitty looked down with horror at her arm. There was a bright red handprint. Friday Mum’s.

  ‘What have I done?’ Friday Mum was sobbing as much as Vanessa now. ‘I was just trying to stop you hurting her like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you too.’

  Friday Mum was sitting on the floor now, rocking Vanessa back and forth and holding Kitty’s good hand – the same one that had grabbed the baby. Then she reached for her phone. ‘I’m sorry I have to do this, love. But something’s got to give. We can’t go on like this.’

  79

  June 2018

  Alison

  Today I am finally being released. Lily says things have happened fast, but it has seemed incredibly slow to me. She has managed to get my conviction overturned. Kitty’s testimony was taken into account, as well as my revised statement and Sarah’s psychological report.

  Over the last few months Sarah has helped me to see what she calls ‘the bigger picture’. My stepfather had low self-esteem. Bullies often do. He had resented me for being part of Mum’s old life. For symbolizing the man who came before him.

  But why had he told Kitty about my father? Most parents would try to shield their eleven-year-old from such a terrible story. Mum thinks it was to get back at her out of jealousy. Either way, we’ll never know, as Mum has now completely severed ties with him.

  Meanwhile, I can comfort myself that, awful as the accident had been, it had proved that Kitty had put me – her half-sister – before her best friend and her own father who had expected her to spill the beans. Deep down, she really loved me. Just as I loved her. If only we had been all
owed to grow up together into adulthood, we might now be the kind of sisters I’d always envied. We’d go shopping together. Visit Mum. Maybe push babies along, side by side. ‘The sister relationship is one of the most complex of all,’ Sarah said to me in one of our final sessions. ‘You might think you dislike each other but you are bound by such strong ties that it’s almost impossible to break away.’

  Right now, everyone has come to the door of the wing to see me off. On the way out I spot Angela.

  ‘I’ll miss you, Alison,’ she says.

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ I say. It’s the truth. Quite why, I don’t know. You’d think I’d resent her for having got me into trouble over the stationery cupboard. But she’s more than proved her friendship here. People aren’t all good or bad. Besides, she didn’t do it out of spite. Most of us in this place have done wrong out of desperation.

  An officer takes me to the gate along with a plastic bag containing the few possessions I had when I came in. There’s only one that I want.

  Carefully I take it out and fasten it round my neck.

  Kitty’s locket. After Mum had given it to me – and I’d destroyed the Crispin photograph – I’d felt surprisingly comforted. It had helped me imagine that if the locket wasn’t damaged, then my sister was all right too. But now I know different, thanks to Sarah. ‘Pretence,’ she says, ‘is a bit like alcohol. A small amount is all right. But too much can distort your vision.’

  Mum’s car is there, waiting. Little Vanessa is strapped safely in the back. My heart gives a lurch. She has grown so much since I last saw her. Part of me wants to pick her up. The other part is too scared in case I drop her.

  I still find it amazing that my sister chose to give her that name. Maybe she felt guilty too. Or perhaps she still loves the old Vanessa despite everything.

  ‘Darling.’

  Mum holds me in her arms. For a minute, it feels like it’s just the two of us again, exactly as it was all those years ago.