My Sister’s Lies: A gripping novel of love, loss and dark family secrets. S.D. Robertson
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jumped at it. Classic Diane.
Hannah wondered if Mia was the same way. She’d not known her long enough yet to be able to tell.
After a short period of listening to the radio and eating in silence, allowing Mia time to get over the phone incident, Hannah decided to try to make fresh conversation. ‘So is there anything you particularly fancy doing today, Mia?’
‘Not really.’
‘Well, as you must have noticed, it’s not very nice weather this morning. And according to the forecast, there’s little chance of any improvement later on. In other words, we’re probably best doing something indoors.’
Mia nodded, keeping her eyes on her plate and the food she’d been poking and prodding with her cutlery more than eating.
‘There are several nice art galleries and museums nearby, but … well, I’ve honestly got no idea whether that’s the kind of thing you would enjoy doing or not. I wouldn’t want to drag you around somewhere you’d find boring.’
There was a long pause before Mia replied. ‘I, er, I’m not actually feeling that well. My stomach hurts. I think I might be starting my period.’
This threw Hannah somewhat, as it was a long way from the response she’d expected. Despite the evidence right in front of her, she still hadn’t got used to Mia being fourteen. Mind you, it wasn’t like she’d had any preparation for this. Until a few days ago, the only Mia she knew – apart from the odd photo she’d spotted at her dad’s house over the years – was the pre-schooler she’d been when Diane moved her away.
‘I see,’ she replied. ‘Sorry to hear that. Do you, um, have everything you need: tampons, pads, paracetamol, perhaps? Because if not, I can always—’
‘I’m fine,’ Mia said. ‘But can I chill in my room for a bit and read my book?’
‘Of course. That’s fine. I thought you’d want to be out and about, rather than stuck here with me, but if that’s how you’re feeling, I understand. I’ve had my fair share of period pains over the years. Why not take it easy this morning and then see how you feel later on?’
Mia nodded, looking teary again all of a sudden.
Oh dear, Hannah thought. Surely she wasn’t still upset about the mobile phone reprimand. Unless she was afraid Hannah might confiscate it, as her mum had the other day. She could understand how that might be a scary prospect for a young teenager staying with people she barely knew, miles away from home.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘You’re not still upset about what I said earlier, are you? There’s no need to be. I’m not cross, particularly as you put it away so quickly.’
‘It’s just … I thought it might be Mum at last.’
‘Oh, right. I see. Haven’t you heard from her today?’
Mia shook her head. ‘Not since Saturday evening when she sent me a text to say she’d got home.’
‘Oh dear.’
I’ve sent her a few messages since then and I’ve tried to call her, but she’s not answered.’
‘Right. Well, I’m sure there’s a good explanation. She’s probably busy. She said she had a few things to do while you were staying with us, so that’s most likely it.’
Hannah eyed the food in front of her niece, which she’d barely touched, and then looked down at her own plate, which was empty save for a few crumbs. She helped herself to another piece of toast, which was cold now, and slapped on some butter and marmalade. This was as much about giving her something to do with her hands as it was about still being hungry.
She cut the toast into two triangles and, before taking a bite, asked: ‘Aren’t you feeling hungry?’
Mia said not, sliding her plate forward on the table to emphasise she was done and then nursing her coffee.
Seeing her niece so downhearted proved too much for Hannah. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I can waive the no-phones rule this once, seeing as it’s obviously upsetting you not knowing if it’s your mum or not. Go ahead and have a look.’
Mia’s face instantly brightened, only to sour again after she pulled out her mobile and read the message.
‘What’s wrong?’ Hannah asked.
Mia shook her head, slipping the phone back into her pocket. ‘It’s not from Mum. It’s one of my friends.’
‘Never mind. I’ll try and get hold of her later, if you like. Is there anything in particular you need to ask her?’
She hesitated, frowning and scratching her head before continuing. ‘I, um, was wondering when she was coming back for me. She did say it would only be a few days.’
Hannah couldn’t help feeling dismayed by this, although she did her best to hide the fact by smiling and nodding. ‘Of course. I totally understand. I was your age once. It’s only normal that you’d rather be at home with your friends and so on than here with us.’
Later, when Mia had returned to her bedroom and Hannah was in the lounge, glad of a break from struggling to make conversation, she pondered Diane’s lack of contact with her daughter.
It was odd she hadn’t been returning Mia’s calls and messages, especially after leaving her alone here with a strange aunt and uncle. What was Diane up to?
Hannah stared at her number: the latest entry in her smartphone’s long list of contacts. The last time Diane had featured would have been on a much simpler device – something clunky by modern standards, with a rubbish camera. The world of technology had moved on a lot in the years they’d been apart, as had Hannah. She could only assume the same applied to her estranged sister.
Her thumb hovered above Diane’s name on the touchscreen. She knew all she had to do to call the number was press down. And yet, for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Was this because she dreaded having to talk one-to-one with her again? Or was she afraid of not getting an answer?
Hannah decided it was probably a combination of the two, although the latter was of particular concern in light of Mia not being able to reach her. It was strange they’d not heard anything yet about when she was coming back for Mia.
God, what if something had happened to her? What would they do then?
No sooner had she decided to stop dithering and call the number than her mobile began to ring of its own accord.
‘Hello?’ Hannah said, answering the phone in a clipped tone, as if Mark had caught her in the middle of something. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Hi,’ he replied. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thanks. What about you? You sound busy.’
‘Oh? I’m not really.’
‘How’s everything going with Mia? Are you finding it okay on your own with her?’
Hannah brought Mark up to date about Mia sleeping in, their stilted breakfast chat, and lastly her niece’s claim to have period pains.
‘I see,’ he replied, glad not to have had that particular conversation with their guest. He knew it would have embarrassed him, even though modern men were supposed to be able to talk comfortably about the time of the month. Dads in particular, he thought, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten. The knot that had been there since he’d read Diane’s letter.
But it was Hannah’s next comment that really got Mark’s attention. Lowering her voice, she said: ‘I think the real reason Mia’s feeling off this morning is because of her mum. Diane’s not been replying to her calls or messages, apparently.’
‘What? Not at all?’
‘She