A Wedding in Tuscany by Sandy Barker

Author:Sandy Barker [Barker, Sandy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008536770
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

When we arrive at the nail salon, they’re actually expecting us, which surprises me a little as Jaelee made the arrangements―ha-ha. I direct the seating arrangements to ensure that Sarah and I are together and across the way from the others so we can talk privately.

We select our polishes―colour for our toes and clear for our fingers―and relax into the massage chairs. I can’t remember the last time we got mani-pedis together, but it would have been years ago in Sydney. I suppose if we lived in the same city, it would be something we did regularly.

Sarah fiddles with the controls of her chair, then moans as the chair starts pummelling her lower back. ‘Feel good?’ I ask unnecessarily. I select a more sedate rolling action for my chair as a woman pulls her rolling stool close to the foot spa and signals for me to lift one foot out of the hot bubbling water.

‘Mmm,’ says my sister. When I glance across, her eyes are closed.

‘Looking forward to tonight?’ I ask. Small talk. When you’re afraid to launch into serious stuff, start with small talk, right?

‘Mmm?’ she opens one eye, then closes it. ‘I … um … yeah. I mean, I have no idea what it’s going to be, but we’re in Tuscany and Josh goes all out for this sort of thing, so yeah, it’s gonna be great.’ I know my sister better than I know anyone and even I can’t tell if she’s bullshitting.

The woman doing my pedicure taps my legs, signalling for me to swap. I do. ‘Sez,’ I say, speaking loud enough for her to hear me above the water jets. I look over at the others to see if they’re listening in. They aren’t. Mum’s chatting to Lindsey and Lindsey’s laughing at something she’s said―I swear those two have a better mother–daughter relationship than Mum and I do―and Jaelee and Lou seem deep in a more serious conversation. All clear from an eavesdropping perspective, but now Sarah seems to have dozed off. ‘Sez,’ I repeat, louder this time.

‘What?’ she drawls, eyes still closed.

‘I need to ask you something.’

She turns her head in my direction and opens her eyes. ‘Sure.’

‘Did I do the wrong thing this morning?’

‘With the loft? For the wedding? No, I think it’s perf―’

‘No, not the loft. I love it. The loft is wonderful.’ She smiles. ‘I meant with the gift―with Grandma’s pearls,’ I say. Immediately after the words leave my mouth, a dark cloud scuttles across her face―just for a second but there’s my answer.

‘Oh, no, no, no, no. Nothing like that. No, they’re lovely.’ Methinks the lady doth protest way too fucking much.

‘Well, you didn’t seem particularly happy with them.’

‘I said thank you.’

‘Yes, but … I put a lot of thought into your gift and it was like the pearls upset you or something.’ As I’ve been talking, her expression has soured and something occurs to me, something that makes me feel like a right arsehole. ‘Oh, Sez, I’m so sorry.

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