Shopaholic and Sister (Shopaholic #4)

Shopaholic and Sister (Shopaholic #4) Page 45

“I just can’t believe you’re here,” I say momentously. “The sister I never knew I had.” I put a hand on her arm and look right into her eyes, which are hazel with little specks.

Oh my God. We’re bonding. This is just like one of the scenes in my Long-Lost Sisters book!

“You knew, didn’t you?” I say, smiling to conceal my rising emotion. “Didn’t you somehow know you had a sister all along?”

“No,” says Jess, looking blank. “I had no idea.”

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling a bit discomfited.

She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to say “I always felt you in my heart!” and burst into tears.

I’m not quite sure what to say next.

“Anyway!” Mum says cheerfully. “Come on in, Jess! You must need some coffee after your journey!”

As Mum ushers Jess in, I look in surprise at the brown rucksack she’s carrying. It’s not very big at all. And she’s staying a whole week at the conference!

“Is that all your luggage?” I say.

“That’s all I need.” She shrugs. “I’m a light packer.”

“Did you FedEx the rest?” I say in an undertone, and give her a friendly “I understand” look.

“No.” She glances at Mum. “This is all I’ve brought.”

“It’s OK.” I smile conspiratorially. “I won’t say anything.”

I knew we’d be kindred spirits. I knew it.

“Welcome, my dear girl!” says Dad.

As he gives Jess a hug, I suddenly feel a bit weird. It’s as though it’s hitting me for the first time. Dad has another daughter. Not just me.

But then… that’s what families are about, isn’t it? Getting bigger. Adding new members.

“This is Luke, my husband,” I say quickly.

“How do you do?” he says pleasantly, coming forward. As he shakes her hand I feel a little glow of pride in each of them. I look at Mum, and she gives me an encouraging smile.

“Let’s go through!” She leads the way into the living room, where there are flowers on the table, and plates of biscuits laid out invitingly. We all sit down, Jess looking a little uncomfortable on the soft, squashy sofa.

This is unreal.

I’m sitting opposite my half sister. As Mum pours out the coffee I peer at Jess, mapping her face onto mine, trying to see the similarities between us. And there are loads! Or at least… some.

She’s got pretty much the same eyes as mine, except a different color and a slightly different shape. Plus her nose would be just like mine if it didn’t have that pointy end. And her hair would be exactly the same — if she just grew it a bit and dyed it and maybe put on a deep-conditioning treatment.

She’s probably scrutinizing me in exactly the same way, I suddenly realize.

“I’ve hardly been able to sleep!” I say, and give her a slightly bashful smile. “It’s so exciting to meet you at last!”

Jess nods but doesn’t say anything. Gosh, she is very reserved. I’ll have to draw her out a bit.

“Am I anything like you imagined?” I give a self-conscious little laugh and smooth my hair back.

Jess surveys me for a moment, moving her eyes around my face.

“I didn’t really imagine what you’d be like,” she says at last.

“Oh, right.”

“I don’t imagine things much,” she adds. “I just take them as they come.”

“Have a biscuit, Jess,” Mum says pleasantly. “These are pecan and maple.”

“Thanks,” says Jess, taking one. “I love pecans.”

“Me too!” I look up in astonishment. “I love them too!”

God, it just shows. Genes will out. We were brought up miles away from each other in different families… but we still have the same tastes!

“Jess, why didn’t you call from the station?” Dad says, taking a cup of coffee from Mum. “I would have picked you up. You didn’t need to take a cab!”

“I didn’t get a cab,” says Jess. “I walked.”

“You walked?” says Dad in surprise. “From Oxshott Station?”

“From Kingston. I took the coach down.” She gulps her coffee. “It was far cheaper. I saved twenty-five pounds.”

“You walked all the way from Kingston?” Mum looks appalled.

“It was no distance,” says Jess. “And the bus would have been three pounds fifty.”

“Jess is a very keen walker, Becky,” explains Mum. She smiles at Jess. “It’s your main hobby, isn’t it, love?”