The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters)

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Perhaps you can think about it.’

  ‘Before they bury her in the ground?’

  Tears began to course down her cheeks and Bill bowed his head, before she squeezed her eyes shut.

  It was several seconds before her husband spoke again.

  ‘Cecily, please believe me, I didn’t just marry you to protect your reputation. Hearing the news about . . . this . . . well, it brought it home to me how much I care for you. And I’m truly sorry that our baby didn’t live. I am so very sorry, my dear. If I’d have been there . . .’ Bill whispered, his voice quavering. ‘I should have been there. I . . . well, I love you.’

  Cecily felt a gentle sensation on her forehead. She opened her eyes and saw that Bill had bent to kiss her.

  ‘Perhaps it’s best if Mrs Forsythe has a little rest now.’ The nurse with blonde curls, who had been hovering outside the door, bustled in and took charge. ‘You can come back and visit her later.’

  ‘She’s right, you need to rest now,’ Bill said gently to Cecily. ‘I’ll be back tonight,’ he added, squeezing her hand before he stood up and left the room.

  ‘Right, now I’m going to give you a little injection, which will help with the pain,’ said the nurse. ‘It’ll also relax you a little.’

  Cecily closed her eyes once more. She didn’t care if she was being injected with cyanide, she thought, as she felt a sharp scratch at her elbow. Her precious child was dead and whatever Bill had said, she still imagined that part of him must be glad that the baby had gone.

  June 2008

  I saw my grandmother’s eyes were closed and wondered whether she was asleep. It had been interesting to listen to the story of Cecily in Kenya, and I felt sorry that she’d lost her baby . . . but if I was honest, I didn’t feel I was any closer to discovering what all this had to do with me.

  ‘That’s . . . real sad,’ I said in quite a loud voice, to see if I could wake her.

  ‘Yes,’ Stella agreed, opening her eyes immediately. ‘The loss of that child affected the course of her life – and mine too.’

  ‘But how? Where do you come into the story? And where was I born and—’

  There was a light tap on the living-room door and Mariam’s head appeared round it.

  ‘I am so sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the car is waiting downstairs to take you to the airport, Electra.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’ I turned my attention back to Stella. ‘Well?’

  ‘Seems like you must be patient for a while longer. And besides,’ she said, standing up, ‘I am weary. Recounting the past is always traumatic, especially when it is your own.’

  ‘But how is it your own?’ I urged her as I followed her into the hallway. ‘Are you even in it yet?’

  ‘This isn’t a movie we’re watching, Electra; it’s a real-life story and you have to understand what came before in order to reconcile what happened next. Now, you must go and so must I.’

  ‘When can you come back again and tell me the rest?’

  ‘I’m away in Washington D.C. this weekend, but I’ll be back on Monday, so let’s make a plan for that evening, shall we? Say, eight p.m.?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said as we stepped into the elevator, irritated that I had to wait four more days until I discovered who I was.

  ‘I’m very proud of you, Electra; you’ve come so far in such a short time. Keep up the good work, won’t you, honey?’ We’d reached the lobby and she turned to kiss me on both cheeks.

  ‘I’ll try,’ I said, and added a grudging, ‘thanks,’ remembering just in time that I was the ‘new me’. We stepped out of the apartment building and the driver opened the door to the limo that was waiting outside. I hopped in the back.

  ‘And maybe you’ll tell me who this Miles is next time I see you. Bye now,’ Stella said, then grinned at me rather wickedly.

  ‘Hi! How was your journey?’ I asked, leaning out of the window as Miles and Vanessa appeared from JFK arrivals and walked towards the limo. (I’d booked it especially for Vanessa because I’d hoped she would think it was cool.)

  ‘All went smoothly,’ Miles called to me as he helped the driver load their luggage into the trunk.

  ‘Hey, Vanessa, you get in next to me, and Miles, you can sit up front, okay?’ I said.

  Vanessa did so and as the driver closed the door behind her, I looked at her pinched features and thought that she seemed to have lost even more weight since I’d last seen her.

  ‘How are you?’ I asked as she traced the leather seat with her long skinny fingers.

  ‘This ride is so cool, ’Lectra,’ she said, ignoring my question. ‘I had a joe pick me up in one once. He drove me uptown and screwed me in the parking lot under his apartment building. His wife arrived and he had ta hide me in the trunk. It was three hours before he came back. Thought I was gonna suffocate in there.’

  ‘That must have been scary,’ I said with feeling. ‘I got locked in a cupboard by some mean girls at school and I still can’t deal with small spaces.’

  ‘Yeah, right? It was bad, real bad, man,’ Vanessa nodded.

  I did my best to try and think of something positive to say, but failed miserably and the two of us lapsed into silence.

  ‘Hey, is that a mini bar there?’ Vanessa pointed to the box that sat between the two front seats.

  ‘It is, yeah. Want some soda?’

  Vanessa gave me one of those looks as if to say, ‘We both know what I really want.’

  ‘I’ll have a Coke.’

  I opened the little fridge and pulled out the can before I could glance at the miniatures lined up in a neat rack tucked inside the door and handed it to her.

  ‘Miles has told me that the place you’re going to is great,’ I ventured.

  Vanessa stared out of the window, and I didn’t blame her. To her it must feel as if she was just going to a different kind of prison, but at least she seemed calmer and a little more responsive than she had at the hospital.

  ‘How far is it, Miles?’ I asked.

  ‘About another half an hour; it’s near a place called Dix Hills.’

  ‘I told Miles the address suited me just fine,’ Vanessa sniggered.

  Thirty minutes later, having driven through what looked like a pleasant residential suburb, we arrived at a gated entrance. As Miles spoke to the guard on duty, I noticed that although from the outside all one could see were tall hedges along the perimeter, behind them lay a high fence topped with barbed wire and bright security lights shining into the distance. Even Miles would struggle to reach the top of it with his outstretched hands.

  We drove through the well-kept gardens and eventually I saw a large and very grand white house.

  ‘Jeez,’ said Vanessa, staring out of the window, ‘looks like the President could live here.’

  ‘Actually, Landsdowne House and the grounds were bequeathed to the charity that runs the rehab centre by the woman who used to live here,’ said Miles. ‘She’d lost her only son to his addiction and lived like a recluse until she died ten years ago. It sure is beautiful,’ he commented, looking at the Doric columns on either side of the steps leading up to the imposing front door.

  ‘I woulda worn my evening gown if I’d known,’ Vanessa sneered, as I saw a woman step out of a car and walk towards us.

  ‘Shit! It’s Ida!’ said Vanessa, almost cowering in the seat beside me as the woman tapped on the back window. She was around the same skin colour as me and dressed in a fabulous bright purple tie-dye kaftan that I wanted to own immediately.

  ‘Vanessa’s social worker,’ explained Miles as he got out of the limo to greet her. He’d already warned me that I should stay out of sight once we arrived, and leave Ida to take her in. Turning up with a famous supermodel in tow was not going to get her stay off to a good start with the other inmates.

  ‘She looks great,’ I said to Vanessa, who was positively shaking. She grabbed my forearm.

  ‘You don’t know her. She’s a witch! If I’da known Ida was coming, I’da stayed ri
ght back in the hospital,’ Vanessa joked morosely. ‘I ain’t gettin’ out, and you can’t make me.’

  I watched her as she fumbled in her hoodie pocket and drew out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and lit up.

  ‘I know this is going to be so hard for you, but . . .’ I struggled to find the right thing to say to her. ‘You know what, Vanessa? I’m here for you, and so are Miles and Ida, who fought so hard to get you into the best place she knew. We all care. So, you gotta go in and get well, and I’ll come and visit the first moment I’m allowed to, okay? Once you’re better, you and I are gonna start having some fun!’

  ‘You jus’ sayin’ that. You’ll forget all about me while I’m shut up in there and you’re gettin’ on with bein’ rich ‘n’ famous.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten about you up to now, have I? Here.’ I dug in my bag and brought out a Burberry baseball cap a stylist had sent me a few months back. I wouldn’t be seen dead or alive in it, but I’d thought Vanessa would like it.

  She looked at it, feeling the fabric.

  ‘Is this real?’

  ‘Course it is.’

  ‘Cool.’ She stuck it on her head backwards, and just for a few seconds, I saw a flash of childlike pleasure in her eyes. ‘It’s mine?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘No one’ll believe it’s real anyway – and if they do, they’ll think I stole it,’ she shrugged as she stubbed out her cigarette.

  ‘Well, you know it is and that’s all that matters. Now, time to go.’

  ‘I . . .’ She looked up at me and I could see there were tears in her eyes. ‘’Kay.’

  ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way, promise.’ Then I opened my arms and gave her the biggest hug I could.

  She opened the door and I watched as she joined Miles and Ida, who immediately embraced her too, which made me feel a little better. Miles caught my attention and put an imaginary phone to his ear.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ he mouthed, as the three of them walked away and up the steps towards the front door.

  ‘Ready to go, ma’am?’ the driver asked me.

  ‘Yeah,’ I nodded. As the limo reversed, I opened the window to let out the fug of cigarette smoke. At that moment, Vanessa turned back towards me, a look of pure fear on her pinched features.

  ‘Love you,’ I mimed to her as the car sped down the drive. As I gulped back tears, feeling like a mom leaving her child on the first day of school, I realised I truly did.

  I was thankful I had a photoshoot the following day because the whole Dix Hills experience last night had given me déjà vu and freaked me out. But in every report I’d read on the internet, it came out with flying colours, rated by all the professionals as the best in New York state for ‘young, under-privileged addicts’, as the New York Times had termed them. Miles had called to say that Vanessa had seemed calm when she’d been introduced to the other young women in her ward.

  ‘The good news is,’ he’d added, ‘the hospital in Tucson had stabilised her, so she got to go into the mid-term facility straight away.’

  In layman’s terms that meant she’d missed out on the detox unit, which I’d read online included padded rooms.

  Ironically, I enjoyed the day’s shoot, even though it was a good year since I’d done one without taking some form of mood-enhancer first.

  Xavier, known as ‘XX’, a designer I’d worked with a number of times – including when we’d designed a capsule range of sportswear with a gold electric lightning bolt down the front of the hoodie, which had sold out within a week – was present at the shoot.

  ‘Are you up for another collaboration sometime soon?’ he asked me.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said as I walked onto the set.

  As I automatically went through the usual series of poses, my thoughts flew back to my sketchbook. I’d loved working on the designs in rehab, and it was way more fulfilling than spending my life pulling faces . . .

  ‘Wow, Electra, that vacation’s sure done you good! You were on fire in front of the lens today.’ Miguel, the photographer (who I was positive had been born a simple ‘Mike’), waxed lyrical at me.

  ‘That was amazing, Electra,’ said Mariam as she sought me out in the dressing room afterwards. ‘I’ve never seen you look more radiant.’

  ‘Aw, shucks, Mariam,’ I smiled at her. ‘Miguel and XX have asked me if I want to get some lunch at Dell’anima as we finished so early—’

  ‘Electra, I don’t want to be a spoilsport or anything, but—’

  ‘It’s okay, I already said I couldn’t. I get that it’s too soon. I told them I had a meeting to attend, which I do, later. But first, there’s somewhere I want to go.’

  As we pulled up in front of the salon on the corner of Fifth and East 57th Street, I turned to Mariam.

  ‘Would you go see if Stefano could fit me in?’

  ‘Oh, but . . . even for you, Electra, I doubt it. You know he’s always booked up months ahead, and it takes hours to straighten your hair.’

  ‘Mariam,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Do you not remember the conversation we had over lunch yesterday with Stella?’

  ‘Of course, but you were only joking, weren’t you?’

  ‘I so was not joking. Don’t worry, I’m gonna go in and speak to him.’

  I was out of the car before Mariam could stop me. I spoke to the receptionist, who said that Stefano was on lunch, but as it was me, he might see me to say hello.

  Stefano and I had met way back when I’d first arrived in New York and Susie had sent me to him before my first ever photoshoot. Being a mix of African-American and Italian blood himself, he was used to dealing with my kind of hair. I regarded our sessions as necessary torture, but I liked him a lot.

  ‘Is he out back?’ I asked her.

  ‘Yeah, but . . .’

  I marched through the salon and pushed open the door marked ‘Private’ where Stefano and I had shared countless illicit lines during the very long and boring process of straightening my frizz into submission.

  Sure enough, there he was, ‘powdering’ his nose.

  ‘Electra! Cara, what are you doing here?’ he said as he stood up and kissed me on both cheeks. ‘We do not have an appointment today, do we?’

  ‘No, we don’t, but I was just wondering if you have hair clippers to hand . . .’

  Half an hour later, I walked out of the back door with perhaps, if I was being generous, a centimetre of hair left on my head. At first Stefano had refused to do what I wanted, but after threatening to do it myself, he had given me a fantastic fade. He’d tried to fuss over it with creams and a special comb, but I had batted him away – I just wanted it to be natural.

  ‘Oh my!’ Mariam said as I got into the back of the car next to her and she put her hand to her mouth. She was a terrible actress – every emotion was written on her face.

  ‘So, apart from the shock factor, what do you think of the new me?’

  ‘I . . . seriously?’

  ‘Seriously.’

  Mariam appraised me with her perceptive and critical eye. Eventually she nodded and gave me a big smile.

  ‘I think it looks amazing!’ We gave each other a high five.

  ‘Can you imagine how many hours of my life I’m going to save having my hair like this? Wasted hours, Mariam. We’ll just tell Susie that from now on, if necessary, it’s wigs all the way. Now, there’s an AA meeting in thirty minutes in Chelsea, so let’s head there and stop off at a deli to get some lunch on our way.’

  In the car on the way home after the meeting, Mariam turned to me.

  ‘Electra, would you feel okay if I went home tonight? I . . . need to see my family.’

  ‘Of course! I don’t want to keep you from them.’

  ‘You know that I’ll be on my cell if you need me, and it won’t take long to come uptown. It’s just for the weekend.’

  I nodded, feeling guilty that I had kept her from her family. When we arrived back at my apartment building, I was pleased to see that Tommy was at his
usual post again. As Mariam headed straight inside with no more than a ‘hello’, I stopped for a chat.

  ‘Hi, Tommy. I haven’t had the chance to tell you again how grateful I was for you helping me and Mariam that night when I got so . . . sick.’

  ‘Electra, you know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.’ Tommy’s lips made a smile, but I could see sadness in his eyes.

  ‘Listen, if there is anything – anything – I can ever do for you, Tommy, please just say the word, okay?’

  ‘Okay, thanks. And by the way, I really dig your new haircut.’

  ‘Thanks, Tommy.’

  As I rode up in the elevator, I decided that I’d attend all my AA meetings in Chelsea from now on. The last thing I wanted was to lose Tommy as a friend, and I knew it would embarrass him if he ever found out I’d heard his confession.

  Sitting down on the couch in the living room, I saw I had a missed call from Miles on my cell, so I called him back.

  ‘Hi, everything okay with Vanessa?’ I asked him.

  ‘Ida called earlier – Vanessa’s settling in okay.’

  ‘Great. And how are you?’

  ‘I’m okay. It’s kinda weird being back at work and not being able to talk to anyone about all the crazy shit that I – we – have been through recently.’

  ‘I know, right? I did my first photoshoot today and it was odd being so . . . present, without all the stuff I used to take to mask it.’

  ‘Yeah, listen, I gotta go. I have a client calling any moment and I’m playing catch-up here at the office right now.’

  Miles ended the call and I stood up and wandered outside onto the terrace. I leant over the glass railing and looked down on New York; for the first time since I’d arrived home, I felt low. Perhaps it was because the weekend was yawning out in front of me. Normally, I’d be in transit to somewhere, which suited me fine, because weekends were the time when successful people left the city to head to their country homes and spend quality time with their family and friends.

  ‘Hi, Electra,’ said Mariam behind me. ‘There’s some lentil soup that I made earlier and some salad in the refrigerator for your dinner tonight.’