Blood Sisters: The #1 bestselling thriller from the author of My Husband's Wife by Jane Corry

Author:Jane Corry [Corry, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9780241976739
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2017-06-28T23:00:00+00:00

41

July 2001

Ali

The roaring in my ears was a car.

Crispin’s Mum’s car with an L plate on the front.

Coming straight towards us.

‘Get off me.’

The summer house. The tapping trees.

I can’t let Kitty tell Mum.

CRASH.

A blue uniform in the air. So graceful. Like a swan in flight. A perfect arc.

I watched, mesmerized, from the ground where I’d been thrown. Frozen.

The thud was heavy. Leaden. Final.

42

May 2017

Alison

If anyone had told me that I’d be in Lead Man’s apartment this evening, I wouldn’t have believed them.

We’re sitting on a smart brown leather sofa – close but not quite touching. He’d called after the hospital visit and in a weak moment I’d said yes.

I’d begun to think that Lead Man didn’t want me to see his place. Was it possible he had a wife hidden away? This is a world where anything can happen. Like a prisoner claiming to be my father. Who knew my mother smelt of lavender. If I’d been wearing it myself – as I usually do – I could have just put that down to a lucky guess. Then again, maybe Stefan had smelt it on me during previous classes.

‘Tell me about your sister, then,’ he says, picking a tiny fragment of glass out of my hair.

‘Our relationship wasn’t easy before the accident,’ I say carefully, leaning back against a turquoise cushion with red and gold embroidery. There’s a distinct oriental air about Lead Man’s place. Maybe it’s the silver and purple jars on the contemporary side table or the faint whiff of joss sticks. That pink paper lantern light. And the soft velvet cushions, ornately brocaded with silver buttons. Intriguingly, there aren’t any photographs. I’d like to know more about his family – whether he has a brother or sister – but something tells me not to pry too soon.

‘In what way wasn’t it easy?’ asks Lead Man. His arm is draping itself round my shoulders now. It’s sending shivers down me. Nice shivers.

‘She was always arguing with me. Prickly. Hostile when there was no need.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘Frankly, I’m not surprised that she and Johnny aren’t working out.’

I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t mean it. At least, I don’t think I did.

‘It sounds as though he’s more able-bodied than she is. It can’t be easy for them. Especially with a baby on the way.’

‘I don’t know how we’re going to manage. Sometimes … sometimes I feel guilty about the accident.’

‘Why?’

Stop right there, I tell myself.

‘I … you know … keep wondering if I … well, if I could have done anything that would have saved her.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know.’

Liar! Liar!

To my relief, he changes the subject. ‘Tell me,’ he says. ‘What is it like in prison?’

I’ve found, since I’ve started this job, that everyone asks that question, from my mother to the college receptionist. The truth is that it’s hard to describe unless you’re actually there to smell the air. The desperation. The resignation. The anger. ‘It’s like another universe,’ I say.

‘Are the men very unhappy?’

Most people – the few I have told – generally ask if they’re dangerous.

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