The Good Sister by Jess Ryder

Author:Jess Ryder [Ryder, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786812124
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2017-08-16T06:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Three

Viking warriors often spent long periods of time away from home. Their wives ran the household in their absence and organised celebrations on their return. Sometimes they commissioned poems that praised their husbands’ courage in battle.

I groan and smother myself with the pillow. Except it’s not a pillow, it’s a cushion, and I’m not in bed, I’m lying on the sofa. My head is pounding and my stomach feels stretched and raw. What time is it? Images from last night rotate before my inner eye: staggering up the stairs, Valentina holding back my hair as I vomited into the toilet bowl, crawling out of the bathroom on my hands and knees and collapsing on the carpet, while the universe went into a rapid spin. I felt like I was going to die. I wanted to die…

It was a great night, but I’m paying for it now. Don’t know how I ended up on the sofa. I suppose Valentina must have laid me down and covered me with our TV-watching blanket. Where is she? My head weighs a ton, but I lift it carefully, expecting to see her on the floor or cuddled up in the armchair. She’s not here. Must have gone home… What time is it? It’s daylight, but it feels early. I ease myself into a sitting position, then slowly stand. I sway for a couple of seconds, as if I’m on a rolling ship, then find my balance. Shuffling over to the kitchen area, I squint at the clock on the cooker, trying to focus on the small illuminated figures: 08:11. Shit, I should be on my way to work. But no … no, it’s 06:11. Only six o’clock, phew. Even so, I won’t make it in to work today. I’ll have to call in sick. Must ring Jill, I think. But not now. Later. Maybe after I’ve had a sleep I’ll feel better. It’s pretty despicable, calling in sick with a hangover. If I get some sleep and take a load of ibuprofen, I might manage to get in for this afternoon.

I run the tap and take a glass off the shelf. The cold water hits my bloodstream, giving me instant brain freeze. I know we’ve got some Nurofen somewhere. I pull open the drawers and rummage around until I find a partly used sheet of capsules. Digging two tablets out of their foil casing, I pop them into my mouth and wash them down.

What I really want to do is get into bed. Mustn’t wake Arun, though. Can’t face a telling-off right now. I cross the corridor and lean against the bedroom door, gently pushing down the handle as I open it.

‘Oh,’ I say. ‘Oh. You’re awake.’ He’s lying with his head propped against an upright pillow, hands clasped behind his head, staring into space. ‘You haven’t been awake all night, have you?’ I croak, my throat coated in crushed glass. ‘I’m really sorry. I mean, really sorry.’

‘Why are you dressed like that?’

‘What? Oh, these are Valentina’s.

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