Alexandra, Gone by Anna McPartlin Read Free Book Online

demise of the baiji dolphin. She didn’t give a shit about the toad or the rhino. “Do you remember when I took Kurt to Kerry for a week and we swam with a dolphin? He was only nine then and it seems like just yesterday.”
    “Did you swim with a baiji dolphin, Jane?”
    “No, a regular one.”
    “Well, then, it’s not really relevant, is it?” Elle resumed her place in the text.
“The Pyrenean ibex, gone …”
    “What’s a Pyrenean ibex?”
    Elle thought about it for a minute before shaking her head. “I’ve no idea.”
    “Did you Google ‘extinct species’ before writing your letter?” Jane asked in a tone that approached condescension.
    “Of course I did. I’m not a bloody zoologist.”
    “I just don’t understand your insatiable need to Google depressing subject matters.”
    “Because they’re important. We may not know what a Pyrenean ibex is, but I can assure you its extinction will have a fundamental effect on the delicate balance of its ecosystem and vice versa.”
    “Do you even know what you’re talking about?” Jane asked.
    “Not entirely,” Elle admitted, “but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
    “Well, it sure as Shinola doesn’t mean you’re right either.”
    “Can I read this letter or not?” Elle asked, and Jane nodded, allowing her to proceed.
“Why aren’t you fighting? I’m doing my bit. I recycle, I turn the lights off, I don’t even own a TV, but you don’t even seem to care that this world, which is a really big part of you, is dying. I know it’s not your fault. I know it’s ours but we are trying and we’ll try harder so stop being such a fucking asshole and adapt or at least bloody try to …”
    Elle looked up at Jane. “Wow, I was really pissed off with the Universe,” she said, and Jane nodded. Elle sniffed and drained her coffee cup before finding her place in the letter, while Jane stood up and started to make more coffee.
“And as for this so-called Celtic tiger, I wish it would die …”
    Jane placed the coffeepot on the counter with a bang. “Bite your tongue,” she ordered. “This so-called Celtic tiger is part of the reason you can charge forty-five K a painting.”
    “Yeah, well, I was over it last New Year’s and I’m still over it this New Year’s,” Elle said. She read on a little, silently, while her sister busied herself rinsing out their cups.
    “Okay. My promises for 2007.” She looked at her sister. “Please reserve your comments until the end.”
    Jane grinned, steadied herself, and nodded her head in agreement. She placed a fresh cup of black coffee in front of Elle and sat opposite her.
“1. I will learn to play the piano. 2. I’ll donate the proceeds of my next painting to War Child. 3. I’ll paint by candlelight. 4. I’ll try to help Jane more with Mum. 5. I’ll get pregnant …”
    Jane gasped. Elle shook her head and sighed a little. “Did I get pregnant in ’07?” she asked.
    “Not unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
    “There isn’t,” Elle said, before admitting it was a desire that had passed and that she had no intention of getting pregnant in ’08 either. She resumed reading.
“6. I’ll be nicer to Jane …”
    “You’re always nice to Jane,” Jane said, smiling.
    “I said no talking,” Elle said sternly.
    Jane nodded and pulled her index finger and thumb across her lips to indicate that she was zipping her lip.
“7. I’ll take Vincent to China …”
    Elle stopped reading for a second and both women reflected on what had happened the previous June while Elle and her boyfriend Vincent were in China, but it was far too painful for either woman to discuss or rehash, and so Elle moved on.
“8. I’ll grow my own vegetables …”
    She stopped and smiled at Jane, who was still ruminating on China, but when Elle’s eyes met hers, Jane brightened.
    “You made a complete mess of that,” Jane said, remembering the amount of money, time, and effort Elle had put into growing her