heels; her hair is glossy, curled in soft ringlets. She smiles and puts her arms round my neck.
‘Thanks for coming, Georgie. Adie and I had such a great time at the spa. I was so looking forward to chatting to you about it.’
She glances over my shoulder – I can feel the tension in her arms. Adie’s behind us, having parked the car.
He smirks. ‘I have a meeting in my office, Bonnie. I don’t want to be disturbed. You girls have a nice lunch together. I ordered in the Chablis and the smoked salmon specially.’
He saunters away, snake hips, hooded eyes, leaving the pungent smell of expensive aftershave in the air.
Bonnie takes my hand. ‘Come on, Georgie.’
I whisper, ‘I thought you were dumping him?’
She shrugs. ‘I’m not strong like you. And he needs me. He said so.’
I sigh loudly and we walk into the dining room, with high glass windows, a magnificent carved wood table. The view outside is of a vast clipped lawn, birds swirling around a feeder: blue tits, robins. Huge poplar trees frame the windowpane, and the steady dark roof of the swimming pool and leisure centre. I frown at my plate, slivered salmon and rocket. Bonnie fills two crystal glasses with pale wine. We both poke at the fish with silver forks, two mirror images. I break the silence.
‘So, tell me about the spa hotel, Bon.’
‘It was lovely.’
‘What treatments did you get?’
She sighs. ‘A pedicure, a massage. A facial where they put little needles in the skin.’
I nod. ‘Abrasion therapy. I’ve seen the machines they use. I’d love one but they’re expensive.’
She shakes her head. ‘I felt like I’d hugged a hedgehog by the time the therapist had finished with me.’ She lifts her head. ‘Does my skin look better?’
‘Marvellous.’ I wonder if she should’ve had a tan. She’s pale as a gravestone. I gulp some wine and ask the question. ‘So, did Adie behave himself?’
She frowns, a little crease between her eyes. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Bonnie. How many other women have there been? You left him. Why the hell did you go back?’
She stiffens, looks perplexed, as if I’ve made a huge mistake or history has been rewritten. She nibbles a small portion of smoked salmon.
‘He apologised. He’ll never do it again.’
I put my fork down, sigh, reach for the Chablis. It’s cold and I feel the anaesthetic properties start to calm me, making me feel a little bolder and more protective.
‘I don’t know why you stay with him. He just wants you here as his trophy. The Barbie doll syndrome. Someone to dress up and keep indoors while he’s out money laundering.’
She breathes out so loudly it’s like a sharp gust of air. ‘Georgie, how can you say that?’ She clutches the knife and fork with white knuckles. ‘Adie worships me. Anyway, when you have a man who’ll do for you what he does for me – when you have a man at all, in fact—’
‘Don’t be naive.’
‘I’m not naive. You’re jealous.’
‘Jealous? Of you living with Shady Adie with the wandering womb weevil? I don’t think so.’
‘You’ve never liked him, Georgie.’ She’s going to cry.
‘Right first time. Because he’s no good.’ For her sake, I’m not holding back.
‘Why can’t you support me?’
‘Because he’s dishonest, Bonnie.’ There. I’ve said it: she needs to know.
She pouts. ‘He’s a successful businessman. A property developer.’
‘Have you ever seen any of the properties he dev—’
There’s a cough behind me and we both turn. A man in overalls is holding up a paintbrush. He’s short, stocky, fifty-something. He raises bushy eyebrows.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Carrick. Mr Carrick said I had to ask you about the feature wall in the bedroom. Did you want the new shade of Addiction or the Aubergine Dream?’
She sniffs. ‘Addiction.’ The decorator turns and shuffles off. ‘Adie’s left me in charge of Demi and Kyle’s extension.’
I gasp. ‘They’re living here?’
‘As soon as they’re back from the honeymoon. Just for a while. Until Adie finds them a house on the Wirral.’
‘I can’t imagine Kyle liking that. Or Demi.’
‘Adie said it’ll be nice for us all to stay together. They’ll have their privacy. And I’m in charge of the decorating.’
I stare at my sister and wave my fork in triumph. ‘You just can’t see it, can you, Bonnie? He has you all where he can control you. You’re just his little pawn.’
‘He bought me this.’ She whisks up her sleeve.
There’s a gold charm bracelet, loaded with shiny charms. She pushes her hand under my nose and I stare at the delicate gold shapes swinging: numbers, a flower, a crown, a mass of other tinkling trinkets.
I shake my head. ‘That wasn’t cheap.’
She looks directly in my eyes. ‘He said I’m worth the expense.’
I exhale. ‘It must give you a carpal tunnel problem …’
‘He made me promise never to take it off, Georgie. It’s a symbol of his love. Eternal and precious.’
I snort. ‘Did he get it in one of his dodgy deals?’
She opens her mouth to reply but her phone rings. She clutches it like a weapon and walks into another room. I breathe out sharply: I’m annoyed with myself. I should’ve convinced her calmly to leave him, kept my temper. My concern for my sister has made me outspoken. She’s too good for him, trusting and loyal. And here I go again, arguing with her, when all I really want is to protect her. Bonnie’s always been good-natured, but she used to have her own personality, a sparkiness, humour. I wonder when she became so dependent, so gullible. What happened to her self-confidence, her self-respect? I drain my glass and pour myself more wine.
I finish a second glass of Chablis and the sound of heels makes me look up. Her voice is high, aghast, panicking.
‘Georgie, I can’t believe it.’ Bonnie rushes back into the room, waving her phone. She grasps my arm and
