S.D. Robertson - My Sister’s Lies - A gripping novel of love, loss and dark family secrets

‘I will, but not in front of Mia.’

‘She’s not here now.’

‘She’ll be back any minute, and it will be better if Mark’s around too.’

‘Mark? What—’ Hearing the toilet flush, Hannah changed tack. ‘Come on, quick. Just tell me.’

‘I can’t now. Sorry. It’ll have to be tonight – after Mia’s gone to bed.’

‘Gone to bed?’ Hannah repeated, as it dawned on her what Diane’s words implied. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘Um, well, I was hoping you might be good enough to put us up for the night.’

‘What? You don’t even have an overnight bag.’

‘Our things are in the car.’

‘You didn’t think to phone ahead?’

‘I didn’t have your number to start with and then … Well, I got your landline from Dad, but I wasn’t sure you’d take my call. Turning up here seemed a better option.’ Diane threw her sister a sheepish look. ‘I know it’s a lot to ask in the circumstances, but … please don’t make me beg.’

Mia walked back into the lounge at the same moment as Hannah’s mobile started to ring.

‘Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me,’ Hannah said, wondering whether her niece had overheard any of their discussion. ‘That’ll be a business call I’ve been waiting on. I need to take it.’ She slid the phone from its facedown position on the arm of the chair, knowing it was almost certainly Mark calling, and raced to the relative safety of the kitchen before answering.

‘Hi, love,’ she said, speaking quietly despite having shut the door.

‘Are you okay? I just got your message. Sorry, I was tied up in a meeting.’

Hannah brought her husband up to speed with what had happened so far.

‘The whole thing is totally weird, right?’ she said.

‘Definitely.’

‘So what do we do? Can they stay tonight or not?’

She heard the sound of Mark letting out a long sigh on the other end of the line. ‘It’s tricky, isn’t it, darling? Despite everything, they’re still family. And none of this is Mia’s fault. It’s hard for me to form a proper opinion without having seen them for myself. What’s your gut feeling? Do you think Diane’s here with good intentions or, I don’t know, that she’s up to something? How does she seem? Is she behaving strangely or—’

‘She’s like my sister, but older.’ Lowering her voice to little more than a whisper, Hannah went on: ‘She does look tired and anxious. Not chatty at all. There’s definitely something weighing on her mind. My guess is she needs our help in some way. Money, perhaps? That might explain why she wants to stay with us rather than in a hotel. You can see for yourself when you get home. Let’s wait until then and we’ll make a joint decision about them sleeping over. How long are you likely to be?’

‘I need to reply to a couple of emails and then I’ll head straight back. I’ll be home soon, I promise.’

‘Good. Please hurry. I’m running out of things to say.’

Luckily, Mark’s office was also located in the centre of Manchester, only a fifteen-minute walk from the apartment. True to his word, he returned home in around half an hour, although to a struggling Hannah it had felt like forever.

She’d almost resorted to turning on the television, although doing so in the presence of guests was one of her pet hates. Instead, she’d gone for an artificially extended trip to the bathroom before busying herself about the kitchen making another cup of tea for everyone.

‘There you are,’ she said, dashing to the front door as soon as she heard the key in the lock.

Mark was dressed in his usual work attire of a dark suit and open-necked shirt, his tan leather briefcase swinging from his left hand and his door key in the right. He looked as tall and handsome as always, his short but thick salt-and-pepper hair lightly ruffled, and a five o’clock shadow lining his square jaw. If anything, he’d got better looking with age. At forty-five, three years older than Hannah, he’d retained his slim and sporty physique, unlike some of his tubby contemporaries. But he’d done so in a natural rather than gym-crafted way, thanks to regular squash games and the odd run, combined with sensible eating and drinking.

Hannah had always been proud to call this dashing, intelligent and yet grounded man her husband. The fact he also had a good job as chief financial officer for a fast-expanding tech firm – well paid enough to enable her to pursue her literary ambitions – was the icing on the cake.

Now, with sibling rivalries suddenly back on the agenda, she recalled how she used to feel like she’d got one up on her sister by marrying such a catch. Looking at him standing before her in the hall today, she felt it again. Diane had Mia – but she had Mark.

In a loud voice meant for the ears of their guests, she asked: ‘Did you have a good day, love?’

‘Yes, thanks. It was fine.’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ she added, voice still raised. ‘We’ve got some unexpected guests. You’ll never guess who.’

Hannah really wished she didn’t feel the need to do this: to hide from Diane that she’d phoned for backup. But she did nonetheless, tumbling back into bad habits, because Diane had always been so independent and fearless, like she could single-handedly take on the world without breaking a sweat. And now – perhaps even more so than in the past – she absolutely did not want to look weak and needy in front of her sister.

‘Do we?’ Mark replied, his mouth going along with the ruse while his eyes begged to know what was really happening. ‘That sounds intriguing.’

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