Part 27 (1/2)
Oh my G.o.d. We're bonding.
”Twenty percent of what?” comes Luke's voice as he and Gary enter the kitchen, both looking in good spirits.
Maybe now is the time to move the conversation on.
”Er . . . nothing!” I say.
”We're just talking about finances,” says Jess to Luke. ”We've both been doing our accounts.”
”Your accounts?” says Luke, giving a small shout of laughter. ”What accounts would those be, Becky?”
”You know!” I say brightly. ”My financial affairs and so forth.”
”Ah.” Luke nods, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. ”So . . . have you called out the SWAT teams yet? And the Red Cross?”
”What do you mean?” says Jess, puzzled.
”They're traditionally summoned to disaster areas, aren't they?” He grins at me.
”So!” I say quickly, trying to change the subject. ”Did anyone . . . er . . . see EastEnders last night?”
No one seems to hear me.
”But Becky was a financial journalist!” says Jess, sounding disconcerted.
”Financial journalist?” Luke looks highly amused. ”You want to hear a story about your sister's days as a financial journalist?”
”No,” I put in. ”She doesn't.”
”The cashpoint card,” says Gary, reminiscing.
”The cashpoint card!” Luke slaps the table in delight. ”This was during Becky's ill.u.s.trious career as a TV finance expert,” he says to Jess. ”She was filming an item on the perils of cashpoint use. She put in her own cashpoint card to demonstrate . . .” He starts laughing again. ”And it got swallowed on camera.”
”They showed that the other night on a TV clips show,” says Gary to me. ”The bit where you start bas.h.i.+ng the machine with your shoe is a cla.s.sic!”
OK, he is off my Christmas card list.
”But why did it get swallowed?” says Jess, looking perplexed. ”Were you . . . overdrawn?”
”Was Becky overdrawn?” Luke says cheerfully, getting out some gla.s.ses. ”Is the Pope Catholic?”
Jess looks confused.
”But, Becky, you said you saved half your salary every month.”
s.h.i.+t.
”I'm sorry?” Luke slowly turns round. ”Becky said she did what?”
”That's . . . that's not exactly what I said,” I say, fl.u.s.tered. ”I said it's a good idea to save half your salary. In principle. And . . . it is! It's a very good idea!”
”How about not running up huge credit card bills which you keep secret from your husband?” says Luke. ”Is that a good idea in principle?”
”Credit card bills?” says Jess, looking at me in horror. ”So . . . you're in debt?”
G.o.d, why does she have to say it like that? Debt. Like it's some kind of plague. Like I'm about to go to the workhouse. This is the twenty-first century. Everyone's in debt.
”You know how doctors make the worst patients?” I say with a little laugh. ”Well, financial journalists make the worst . . . er . . .”
I wait for her to laugh too, or at least give a sympathetic smile. But she just looks appalled.
This whole exchange is beginning to rankle. OK, so I may have had the odd debt in my time. But she doesn't have to look so disapproving.
”By the way, Jess,” says Gary. ”We've run into a tiny glitch with that program.”
”Really?” Jess looks up. ”I'll come and have a look if you like.”
”Are you sure?” Gary glances at me. ”We don't want to interrupt your evening. . . .”
”It's fine,” I say, waving my hand. ”Go ahead!”
When they've all disappeared into the study I wander along the corridor and into the sitting room. I slump down on the sofa and stare miserably at the blank television.
Jess and I haven't bonded one bit.
We don't get on. That's the truth.
Suddenly I'm weary with disappointment. I've been trying so hard ever since she arrived. I've been making every effort. I bought the picture of the cave . . . and I prepared all those yummy snacks . . . and I tried to plan the best evening I could. And she hasn't even tried to join in. OK, so maybe she didn't like any of my films. But she could have pretended, couldn't she? If it was me, I would have pretended.
Why does she have to be such a misery? Why can't she just have fun?
As I gulp my champagne, resentment is growing inside me.
How can she hate shopping? How? She's got thirty thousand pounds, for G.o.d's sake! She should adore shopping! And another thing-why is she so obsessed with potatoes? What's so great about b.l.o.o.d.y potatoes?
I just don't understand her. She's my sister, but I don't understand one single thing about her. Luke was right all along. It is all nurture. Nature doesn't come into it.
I start dejectedly leafing through the videos. Maybe I'll watch one of them on my own. And have some popcorn. And some of those yummy Thorntons chocolates.
Jess probably doesn't even eat chocolate. Unless it's chocolate she's made herself, out of potatoes.
Well, good for her. I'm going to stuff my face and watch a nice movie.