and Isla loathed his flirting and casual dating of her staff, though he barely glanced in her direction, let alone flirted with her. Alessi, it was clear, considered Isla to be a stuck-up cow who had somehow wormed her way into her senior position thanks to her father. They rarely worked together and that suited them both.
The early morning sun was very low and bright as Isla and Isabel crossed the tunnel that would take them from the car park to the departure lounge. A few heads turned as the sisters walked by. It wasn’t just that they were both blonde and good-looking but that, thanks to their frequent appearances in the celebrity pages of newspapers and magazines, people recognised them.
Isabel and Isla were more than used to it but it felt especially invasive this morning.
Today they weren’t minor celebrities but were sisters who were saying goodbye for a whole year, for a reason even they could not discuss—an event that had happened twelve years ago. Something that both women had fought to put behind them, though, for both, it had proved impossible.
What had happened that night had scarred them both in different ways, Isla thought as she watched Isabel check her baggage in.
She didn’t really know Isabel’s scars, she just knew that they were there.
They had to be.
Isla forced a smile as Isabel came back from the check-in desk.
‘I’m not going to wait to meet Darcie,’ Isabel said, and Isla nodded. Yes, they could stand around and talk, or perhaps go and get a coffee and extend the goodbye, but it was all just too painful. ‘I think I’ll just go through customs now.’
‘Look out, England!’ Isla attempted a little joke but then her voice cracked as they both realised that this was it. ‘I’m going to miss you so much!’ Isla said. She would. They not only worked and lived together but shared in the exhausting round of charity events and social engagements that took place when you were a Delamere girl.
They shared everything except a rehash of that awful night but here, on this early summer morning, for the first time it was tentatively broached. ‘You understand I have to go, don’t you?’ Isabel asked.
Isla nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
‘I don’t know how to be around him,’ Isabel admitted. ‘Now that Sean is back, I just don’t know how to deal with it. I know that he doesn’t understand why I ended our relationship so abruptly. We both knew it was more than a teenage crush, he was the love of my life …’ Tears were pouring down Isabel’s cheeks and even though she was younger than Isabel, again, it was Isla who knew she had to be strong. She pushed aside her own hurts and fears and cuddled her big sister and told her that she was making the right choice, that she would be okay and that she could get through this.
‘I know how hard it’s been for you since he came to MMU,’ Isla said.
‘You won’t say anything to Sean …’
‘Oh, please,’ Isla said. ‘I’d never tell anyone, ever. I promised you that a long time ago. You’ve got this year to sort yourself out and I’m going to do the same.’
‘You?’ Isabel said in surprise. ‘What could you possibly have to sort out? I’ve never known anyone more together than you.’
Isla, though, knew that she wasn’t together. ‘I love you,’ she said, instead of answering the question.
‘I love you, too.’
They had another hug and then Isla stood and watched as her sister headed towards customs and showed her passport and boarding pass. Just as she went past the point of no return Isabel paused and turned briefly and waved at a smiling Isla.
Only when Isabel had gone did Isla’s smile disappear and Isla, who never cried, felt the dam breaking then. She was so grateful that she had an hour before Darcie arrived because she would need every minute of it to compose herself. As she walked back through the tunnel towards the car Isla could hardly see where she was going because her eyes were swimming in tears, but somehow she made it back to the car and climbed in and sat there and cried like she never had in her life.
Yes, she fully understood why Isabel had to get away now that Sean had returned. The memories of that time were so painful that they could still awake Isla in the middle of the night. She fully understood, with Sean reappearing, how hard it must be for Isabel to see him every day on the maternity unit.
It was agony for Isla, too.
She sat there in her car, remembering the excitement of being twelve years old and listening to a sixteen-year-old Isabel telling her about her boyfriend and dating and kissing. Isla had listened intently, hanging onto every word, but then Isabel had suddenly stopped telling her things.
A plane roared overhead and the sob that came from Isla was so deep and so primal it was as if she were back there—waking to the sound of her sister’s tears and the aftermath, except this time she was able to cry about it.
Their parents had been away for a weekend. Evie, their housekeeper, had lived in a small apartment attached to the house and so, effectively, they had been alone. Isla, on waking to the sounds of her sister crying, had got out of bed and padded to the bathroom and stood outside, listening for a moment.
‘Isabel?’ Isla knocked on the bathroom door.
‘Go away, Isla,’ Isabel said, then let out very low groan and Isla realised that her sister was in pain.
‘Isabel,’ Isla called. ‘Unlock the door and let me in.’
Silence.
But then came another low moan that had Isla gripped with fear.
‘Isabel, please.’ She knocked on the door again, only this time with urgency. ‘If you don’t let me in then I’m going to go and get Evie.’
Evie was so much more than a housekeeper. She looked after the two girls as if they were her own. She worried about them, was there for them while their parents attended their endless parties.
They both loved her.
Isla was just about to run and get Evie when the door was unlocked and Isla let herself in. She stepped inside the bathroom and couldn’t believe what she saw. Isabel was drenched in sweat and there was blood on the tiles, but as she watched her sister fold over it dawned on Isla what was happening.
Isabel was giving birth.
‘Please don’t tell Evie,’ Isabel begged. ‘No one must know, Isla, you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone …’
Somehow, despite the blood, despite the terror and the moans from her sister, Isla stayed calm.
She knew what she had to do.
Isla dropped down to her knees on instinct rather than fear as Isabel lay back on the floor, lifting herself up on her elbows. ‘It’s okay, Isabel,’ Isla said reassuringly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
‘There’s something between my legs …’ Isabel groaned. ‘It’s coming.’
Isla had been born a midwife, she knew that then. It was strange but even at that tender age, somehow Isla
