The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters)

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The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters) Page 10

by Lucinda Riley


  ‘Joaquim’s here tomorrow too,’ I suddenly remembered with a smile. ‘He said so.’

  ‘He did,’ said Maia.

  ‘So . . .’ Mariam came to stand in front of me. ‘Shall we stay here? Take a little vacation?’

  ‘Okay,’ I nodded.

  ‘Right, I’m just going downstairs to sort out extending the room booking and changing the flights, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  When she had gone, Maia came over to the couch, sat next to me and took my hands.

  ‘Mariam is so lovely, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yup, she’s an angel. Which sure can be annoying sometimes,’ I added, raising an eyebrow.

  I felt Maia’s eyes boring into me.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Oh, I was just thinking how much I love you, little sis.’

  ‘I love you too, big sis.’

  As I looked at her, I saw there were tears in her eyes.

  ‘Hey, why are you crying? Aren’t you happy to see me?’

  ‘I’m so happy, Electra, promise. Now,’ she said as I yawned again, ‘how about we go into the bedroom and I tuck you in like I used to do when you were little and tell you a story?’

  A memory came drifting back to me: of Maia, aged maybe around thirteen, sitting on my bed and reading me fairy tales. She’d once told me that her name meant ‘mother’ in Greek, and I’d decided that if I were to have one of my own, she’d be like her.

  ‘Sure,’ I agreed as I stood up, still unsteady on my feet, and walked with Maia to the bedroom.

  ‘Hey!’ As I crawled into bed, I patted the sheets that were still rumpled from spending the afternoon with Joaquim. ‘There’s room for you to lie down next to me.’

  Maia straightened the covers on her side of the bed, then laid on top of them. She reached out a hand to me again and I took it and squeezed it hard, feeling the beginnings of the comedown from the ecstasy and the coke.

  ‘You know, you were always my favourite sister,’ I said, turning to her.

  ‘Was I? What a lovely thing to say, Electra. Well, I have to tell you, you were certainly the cutest baby. Even if you did scream.’

  ‘I know what you and Ally used to call me.’

  ‘Do you?’ I watched a blush rise slowly up Maia’s swanlike neck.

  ‘Yeah, you used to call me “Tricky”. I mean, I know the meaning of the word, but how did you come up with it?’

  ‘Because you were “Electra”, so, electric – “Tricky”, you see? I’m so sorry, darling, we weren’t being serious.’

  ‘I was hurt at the time, but maybe you were right. And I don’t think I’ve changed much.’ The beginnings of tears pricked my eyes.

  ‘Well, maybe you did have a few temper tantrums, but in many ways you were the brightest of all my little sisters. When we used to play those mental maths games with Pa on his boat every summer, you were always the winner.’

  ‘Was I? So how did I grow dumber rather than smarter? You know how I flunked all my exams at school.’

  ‘I don’t think you cared about them, so you didn’t do any work.’

  ‘True,’ I said. ‘Maia? Can I get some coffee, do you think? I’m feeling real woozy.’

  ‘Of course. With or without caffeine?’

  ‘Definitely with,’ I answered as she reached for the phone. ‘That healthy shit I was into last time I saw you was only for Mitch. His body was a temple.’

  ‘Really?’ Maia said as she waited for room service to answer. ‘I saw a photo of him in a magazine and he looked more like an old wreck.’

  As Maia ordered the coffee, I chuckled, but then the chuckle turned into a groan, which turned into sobbing.

  ‘Hey,’ she said softly, ‘what is it?’

  ‘Oh, just . . . everything,’ I shrugged as the tears streamed down my cheeks. ‘Mostly Mitch, I guess. I’m not in a good place right now.’

  ‘I understand, darling. And I suppose you can never show it, can you?’

  ‘Too right I can’t. The media would have a fiesta and I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me.’

  ‘Well, I’m not a newspaper, just your sister, who loves you. Come here.’

  Maia pulled me into her arms and I breathed in the lovely natural scent of her skin.

  ‘This feels like home,’ I smiled.

  ‘That’s a nice thing to say.’

  ‘You know, I went back to Atlantis a few weeks ago and it didn’t feel like home.’ I shook my head vehemently. ‘It didn’t feel like home at all.’

  ‘I know, Electra. It’s because Pa’s gone.’

  ‘It’s not just him who’s gone, but all you guys too. It’s kind of sad being there with just Ma and Claudia.’

  ‘But Ally said you saw her and you met Bear.’

  ‘Yeah, he’s very cute. She’s lucky she has something to love, and to love her. I . . . don’t. I don’t have anyone.’

  I cried real hard then, right onto Maia’s white shirt that smelt all fresh and calm, just like her.

  ‘Sorry, I’m being self-indulgent, it’s the . . . stuff I took.’

  I realised it was the first time I’d actually voiced the words to anyone close to me.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Also,’ I said, wiping my dripping nose, ‘I just want to say sorry for being evil to you when I came home to Atlantis after Pa had died.’

  ‘Were you? I don’t remember.’

  ‘Yeah, I was. I said it didn’t matter what you looked like because you never saw a person from one month to the next. I didn’t mean it, Maia, really I didn’t. You’re so sweet and good and perfect – all the things I’m not.’

  The doorbell rang and Maia went to get the coffee from the waiter.

  ‘Here you are,’ she said as she handed it to me. As I sat up, my head thundered and I felt sick, so I lay back down again.

  ‘Maybe in a minute.’

  ‘Okay. Darling Electra?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do you think it would be a good idea to take a little time out and go and get some help?’

  ‘I get plenty of help now,’ I sighed. ‘I’ve fired five therapists in the past few months.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound good at all, but I meant more . . . formal help.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘There’s a very good place I know down in Arizona – Floriano’s friend went there and came out a new person. I—’

  Despite my head, I sat up and glared at her. ‘Are you trying to suggest I need to go to rehab?’

  ‘Well, yes. Mariam said you’ve not been . . .’ – Maia sighed as she tried to find the right words – ‘all that well recently.’

  ‘Yeah, sure I haven’t! The love of my life announced he was marrying someone else and it’s been plastered all over the media! What was I meant to do? Jump for joy?’

  ‘You really loved him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I did, but I’ll get over it. It’s just been a bad few weeks, that’s all. And why was Mariam telling tales on me?’

  ‘She wasn’t, Electra, she cares about you—’

  ‘She cares about her freaking job! That’s what she cares about!’

  ‘Darling Electra, please calm down . . .’

  ‘Wow!’ I exploded. ‘Boy, do I hate that phrase more than any other! I wonder how many times you guys and Pa and Ma said it to me!’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m only trying to help—’

  ‘Well, don’t. I’m gonna be just fine.’ I nodded fiercely. ‘Just fine. Now, can we talk about something else, please?’

  ‘We can, Electra, but—’

  ‘No! I want you to tell me a story like you used to.’

  ‘Okay . . .’ Maia looked at me. ‘Which story do you want?’

  ‘I want your story. I want you to tell me how you met your guy in Rio and fell in love.’

  ‘Okay . . . Do you want some coffee before I start?’

  ‘No, I’m feeling real sick just now. Tell me about you and Floriano – that’s a helluva cute name
by the way – and take my mind off my own shit.’ I patted the bed next to me and Maia climbed back on. I nestled my head against her breast, unable to close my eyes because when I did, my head spun, but it was soothing as she began to stroke my hair.

  ‘Well, I actually met him when I first went up to see Christ the Redeemer, which, by the way, you should try to do too before you leave, because it is so amazing. He was the tour guide, you see, and . . .’

  I listened to the story and it was just as romantic as any fairy tale.

  ‘And then you lived happily ever after.’

  ‘Yes, or at least, I hope we will. I mean, he isn’t a prince and we have very little money, but we’re happy.’

  ‘And what about the relative Floriano helped you find? Did you meet her?’

  ‘Yes, I did, but she was very ill and sadly she died not long after we met. At least I feel lucky that I got to spend some time with her.’

  ‘Tell me some more of the story, Maia,’ I urged her, desperate to take my mind off the coke that sat so close to me in the bedside drawer. I’d never sleep if I took any more and I desperately needed to – I’d been so good at sleeping when I was with Mitch.

  So Maia told me the tale of the man who designed Christ the Redeemer and the young sculptor whom her great-grandmother had fallen so deeply in love with and . . .

  The next thing I knew, Maia was kissing me on the forehead and turning out the light.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I grabbed her arm in the dark.

  ‘Home, Electra. You need to sleep.’

  ‘Maia, please don’t leave me. Stay for a bit longer, please. And put the light back on – I’m scared of the dark.’

  ‘You never used to be,’ she said, but she did as I’d asked.

  ‘Well, I am now. I wanna find love like you and Floriano and Izabela and Laurent,’ I smiled up at her.

  ‘Chérie, you’re only twenty-six years old. Remember I’m almost thirty-four – eight years older than you. You have plenty of time to find love, I promise.’

  ‘Well, I hope I don’t have to wait another eight years for it,’ I shrugged. ‘I feel so old, Maia.’

  ‘I promise you that you’re not.’ She put a hand to my forehead and I liked the sensation of her cool palm on my skin. ‘You’ve had to grow up so very fast, haven’t you?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘You’re so brave and strong, Electra.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ I shook my head. ‘Do you wanna know a secret?’

  ‘I think so,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘You know why I think I used to scream a lot when I was younger?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘Because I hated being by myself, and I still do.’

  ‘Maybe you should get a flatmate.’

  ‘Who’d want to live with me?’

  ‘Electra, don’t be so down on yourself. You’re an icon to millions of women around the world. I’d love to take you out into the hills behind Rio and show you the fazenda – that’s a farm in Portuguese – which I inherited from my grandmother. I’ve developed it as a centre for disadvantaged children from the favelas. If you turned up with me, I think they would believe they were dreaming. Don’t you see that you inspire them?’

  ‘Yeah, but they don’t know me, do they? Look at you, turning your inheritance into something that does good for others. I do nothing for anyone except myself.’

  I heard Maia give a small sigh but the down was so down, I couldn’t climb up, so I closed my eyes and begged for sleep to come.

  I woke up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers, grabbed some Tylenol and Advil and threw the tablets down me with a bottle of water. I checked the clock and saw it was just past six. I ordered coffee and a basket of the cheesy cakes that I’d discovered came hot from the oven and were the best thing ever. As I waited for room service to arrive, my mind played over what had happened yesterday, and my heart sank to my feet as I vaguely pictured dancing naked with Joaquim on the terrace. And Mariam and Maia’s faces when we’d appeared in the living room . . .

  ‘Jesus, Electra,’ I groaned as I staggered out of bed to answer the door to room service. As I drank the hot coffee, I also remembered admitting to my sister that I’d taken some stuff – which wouldn’t exactly have been a surprise to her, given the fact she’d found me obviously high and stark naked with a random guy. Then the bit about her suggesting I stayed on for a couple of days here, and that I should think about going into rehab . . .

  Shit! That was not good news. And worse than that, Mariam had obviously snaked on me. Well, there was no way – just NO WAY – I was going to a funny farm. Yesterday had been a bad day, that was all. And I certainly wasn’t going to hang around with Saint Maia to be lectured. I picked up the receiver and dialled Mariam.

  ‘Good morning, Electra, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Great, just great,’ I lied, wondering if I’d ever call Mariam up and catch her half asleep. ‘I need you to book us back on the flights to NY as soon as possible.’

  There was a small pause on the line. ‘Right. I thought the plan was for you to stay here a while and spend time with your sister?’

  ‘It wasn’t a plan, Mariam, it was an idea, but I think I need to get back to the Big Apple.’

  ‘As I said, you have nothing in your diary, so you can stay on—’

  ‘And I’m telling you I want you to book us back to New York, okay? My bags are already packed and I’m ready to leave any time from now.’

  Mariam took the hint that I wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, and an hour later we were on our way to the airport. I sent Maia a text thanking her for last night and saying that I’d see her at Atlantis for Pa’s water memorial in June.

  As the jet soared upwards, I felt a sense of relief that I’d escaped. No one was going to lock me away anywhere. Ever.

  Spooked by how out of control I’d been in Rio, I was determined to make a serious effort to stay clean over the weekend. I drank tons of water, and ordered in an array of smoothies laden with vitamin C. The first day back, I managed to get to lunchtime before pouring myself the tiniest vodka. Knowing I would pour another without some distraction, I stepped out across the road to take a run in Central Park.

  ‘You okay, Electra?’ Tommy asked me as I jogged towards him on my way back.

  ‘I’m good, yeah. How are you?’

  ‘I’m okay, thanks for asking. Y’know, when you were in Rio, a woman came by who looked a whole lot like you.’

  ‘Really?’ I raised an eyebrow as I slowed to a standstill. ‘Well, if she comes by again, please tell her I’m out, even if you know I’m in. She’s just another crackpot who’s convinced she’s related to me.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she sure did look like she could be related to you. See you tomorrow, Electra.’

  Up in my apartment, I peeled off my sweaty running gear and was just about to take a shower when the concierge phone rang.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi, Miss D’Aplièse, a couple boxes have arrived down here for you. Can we bring them up?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, as long as you’ve checked them for explosives first!’ I half joked.

  Five minutes later, the porter and his lackey appeared pushing a trolley loaded with two large cardboard boxes, which they then dumped on my living room floor.

  ‘Who brought these? They look like the kind of boxes you’d use to move house.’

  ‘Some delivery guy in a van dropped them off. With this.’ He handed me an envelope. ‘Want help unpacking them, ma’am?’

  ‘No. Thanks, though.’

  Brimming with curiosity like a child presented with a gift, I took the lid off one of the boxes. It was full of clothes – my clothes. On the top of the pile sat a shoebox, which I opened to find my silk sleeping mask, lip balm, ear plugs, a pair of sunglasses . . . and beneath all the crap, I glimpsed the thick cream vellum of Pa Salt’s letter.

  Fishing it out, I realised immediately what these boxes were: everything I’d left
behind at Mitch’s house in Malibu. The shoebox was the contents of the nightstand next to the bed I’d once shared with him, thinking it would be where I’d sleep forever . . .

  ‘No, Electra! You. Will. Not. Let. Him. Hurt. You. Any. Freakin’. More!’

  Calling down to the concierge, I asked him to send the trolley back up to collect the boxes.

  ‘Anything that your wives or girlfriends want from them, it’s all theirs. And send the rest to Goodwill,’ I instructed the porter when the trolley had been reloaded.

  ‘Okay, Miss D’Aplièse, will do, thanks.’

  I stepped out onto the terrace, holding the envelope Mitch had sent with my stuff, along with a book of matches. I set fire to his note without opening it. Then I went to the drinks cabinet and fixed myself a vodka tonic with some ice. I deserved one after that. And even though I tried to rein back my mind from thinking about it and to concentrate on the good news – that Pa’s letter had turned up – I couldn’t help myself. I could only picture Mitch arriving home from his tour. Knowing his fiancée was to join him there any day soon, he’d cleaned out all of my stuff from his house and erased me from his life.

  I took another great gulp, then gave myself a top-up. As long as I kept off the coke, that was okay, wasn’t it? Then I stared at Pa’s letter, sitting like a ticking time bomb on the coffee table.

  ‘Do I open you?’ I asked it.

  Thinking how all my sisters seemed to have found the golden ticket to future happiness within theirs, I took another mega-slurp of vodka, grabbed it and peeled it open.

  Atlantis

  Lake Geneva

  Switzerland

  My darling Electra . . .

  ‘Oh Christ!’ I gulped as tears filled my eyes before I’d even read a word.

  There is part of me that wonders whether you will ever read this; perhaps you will put it away somewhere for the future, or even burn it – I do not know, because you are the most unpredictable of all my daughters. And ironically, I believe, the most vulnerable.

  Electra, I know we have never had the easiest of relationships – two strong and determined personalities often fight. Yet they also love the most passionately – another quality we share.

 

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