it be all right for me to have a shower first?’
‘Of course,’ Hannah replied, even though the question hadn’t ultimately felt directed at her. ‘You know where the bathroom is. Help yourself to a towel from the pile in there and feel free to use whatever toiletries you need. The shower is pretty straightforward, but give me a shout if you need any help.’
She smiled at her niece, who pursed her lips and muttered, ‘Thanks,’ in response.
Mia still hadn’t shown much sign of coming out of her shell – at least not to Hannah. Mark, on the other hand, had had some success at getting the teenager to chat when he’d started asking her about what kinds of TV shows and films she liked. They’d both seen a lot of the Marvel superhero movies, apparently. Plus they shared an affection for this weird, nerdy cartoon about space, time travel and that kind of thing. Hannah had seen Mark watch it a few times and dismissed it as nonsense. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but it definitely wasn’t her cup of tea. Neither was the Marvel stuff, to be honest.
Her ears had pricked up, however, at Mia’s mention of reading. This was much more her field than Mark’s, who rarely found time to read anything but the paper these days. So before her niece disappeared from the dining room, she asked her what she was reading.
‘Oh, you wouldn’t have heard of it,’ Mia replied.
‘Try me,’ Hannah said, throwing Mark a glare designed to remind him not to say anything about the upcoming release of her own novel, which she’d warned him not to mention in front of Diane. It wasn’t something she was ready to share with her yet.
Mia let out a tiny, almost inaudible sigh. ‘Fine. It’s called Dust.’
‘Oh, you mean The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman?’
‘No. It’s called Dust.’
‘I see,’ Hannah replied, shaking her head. ‘You’re quite right, then. I don’t think I have heard of that. Who’s the author? Is it YA?’
Mia frowned. ‘He’s called Hugh Howey. It’s the third part of a post-apocalyptic sci-fi trilogy.’
‘She reads a lot,’ Diane explained after Mia had left the room. ‘She’s a proper bookworm, like you were at that age. A different kind of book, mind. She’s definitely not into the girly stuff. And it’s not only the arts that she does well in at school. She’s also really good at maths, computing and the sciences. She’s quite the all-rounder.’
‘Really?’ Mark said. ‘That’s interesting.’
Hannah said nothing. She knew the ‘girly stuff’ comment was a dig at the kinds of novels she used to tear through as a youngster: mainly love stories and classics by the likes of Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters, which Diane had regularly branded a waste of time. Such disparaging remarks were precisely the reason she didn’t want to mention her own book. Hannah was fiercely proud of her achievement; while a part of her wanted to boast about it, she also didn’t want to give her sister the chance to pooh-pooh it.
Diane had barely read at all as a child, so it was definitely interesting that Mia was a keen reader, especially with all the other distractions on offer these days.
Mark, obviously thinking along the same lines, continued: ‘I thought kids didn’t read books any more. That’s what you always hear in the news. They’re supposed to be permanently glued to their smartphones, right?’ He laughed, pulling his own phone out of his shirt pocket and giving it a little shake. ‘Just like the rest of us.’
‘Good point,’ Hannah added. ‘I haven’t seen Mia on a phone once. Doesn’t she have one?’
‘Oh, she has one all right,’ Diane replied. ‘She usually spends more than her fair share of time on it, believe me. She hasn’t today because I confiscated it.’
Hannah and Mark both looked at her expectantly after this, the implication being that she should elaborate, but no further explanation came.
Anyway, now Mia was on her way to bed – a move quite possibly pre-orchestrated by her mother – Hannah assumed the reason for their journey up north was soon to be revealed.
Part of her dreaded what was about to come. And yet, anticipating it would almost certainly involve Diane eating humble pie and asking for her help in some way, the competitive-sister streak in her was, in a warped way, slightly looking forward to it.
Deciding to let them stay the night had been similar. If Hannah was totally honest with herself, the fact that Diane had seemed so desperate – like she had no other option – had appealed to her sense of one-upmanship, as well as her compassion.
It was hard to feel anything approaching love or affection for Diane now when Hannah considered the awful state she’d been left in by her departure and the resulting loss of contact with her niece. Gradually, with a lot of patience and support from Mark, she’d learned to cope. She’d grown numb. Once warm emotions had run colder and colder until they’d frozen solid; she’d finally accepted the harsh reality that, for all manners and purposes, she no longer had a sister.
Except suddenly here she was again … dining and soon to be sleeping in her home.
How was Hannah supposed to deal with that? No wonder she felt so confused and conflicted.
‘Well, who wants some coffee?’ Mark asked, clapping his hands together as he stood up from the table.
‘Good idea,’ Hannah added, also getting to her feet and starting to clear the plates. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’ She looked at her sister as she added: ‘Then we can all sit down and have a good chat, right?’
Diane nodded, her face looking very pale all of a sudden. ‘Of course. But could I be awkward and ask for tea instead of coffee?’
‘No problem,’ Mark replied.
She also made a move to get up and help clear the dishes, but Hannah told her it wasn’t necessary. ‘You go and grab a seat in the lounge,’ she said, keen to have a few moments alone with her husband before the big discussion.
‘So what do you think she’s going to say?’ Hannah asked Mark a few minutes later. She spoke in a low voice but was glad of the noise of the kettle and coffee maker to ensure they weren’t overheard.
He shook his head. ‘I really have no idea. She’s played her cards very close to her chest so far. It could well be money she’s after, I suppose. What kind of car has she got?’
‘I’ve not got a clue. I didn’t ask. Why would I? And I didn’t see them arrive in it. I don’t even know where she’s left it. A nearby car park, I suppose, although that won’t be cheap.’
‘Didn’t she ask if we had a space?’
‘Yes, when she first arrived, but I explained it was taken up with our own car and we didn’t discuss it further. I was too shell-shocked by her arrival at that point to even think about it. What’s her car got to do with anything anyway?’
Digging out some chocolates from the cupboard to serve with the drinks, Mark replied: ‘I thought if it was a battered old thing, that might be an indicator of money issues. Never mind. Most people buy cars on credit anyway.’
‘And
