Sisteria by Sue Margolis Read Free Book Online

Jewish professionals, Beverley invited Naomi over to discuss what should be done.
    Things had got off to a shaky start the moment Naomi arrived. Even though she was earning a fortune in her spare time presenting corporate videos, she was still working as a local TV news reporter in Luton. Nevertheless, she swanned into the house looking down her nose like a dowager who’d taken a wrong turning and ended up in Moss Side. Clearly fearing contagion, she air-kissed Beverley on both cheeks, actually, to Beverley’s astonishment, saying ‘Mwah’ as she did it.
    â€˜Oh, come on, Naomi,’ Beverley said, laughing and giving her sister a proper hug, ‘this is me. Your big sister, not one of your telly-kissy chums.’ She then led Naomi into the living room, which had just been redecorated.
    â€˜Oh, so you went for pale lemon anaglypta,’ Naomi said as she took in the new colour scheme. ‘And ruched nets with just a blush of pink. Do I detect an ironic nod towards fondant fancy?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Who did you get to do it, Mr Kipling?’
    â€˜Sorry?’ Beverley said, missing her sister’s last remark.
    â€˜Oh, no, nothing. It doesn’t matter.’
    â€˜Actually,’ Beverley went on, ‘we didn’t give it much thought. To be quite honest, interior design isn’t my and Mel’s strong point.’
    â€˜Really? You’d never have guessed.’
    ***
    A few minutes later, over coffee and a couple of slices of Beverley’s home-made marble cake, Beverley mooted the idea of Queenie moving in.
    It was a full five seconds before Naomi spoke.
    â€˜Move in? With you?’ she repeated flatly, clearly astonished at the suggestion.
    â€˜Yes. Why not? I’ve sort of mentioned it vaguely and she seems to be up for it.’
    â€˜I don’t doubt it. Three meals a day. You running round after her. Who wouldn’t? You’re mad, Bev. For Christ’s sake, the woman fucked up both our lives. Now you want her living with you? Sharing your house? Why can’t we just put her in a home? Then we wouldn’t have to do much more than visit her on her birthday with a couple of giant bars of Fruit and Nut.’
    â€˜Come on, Nay, she’s a bright, intelligent woman. She’d die if she had to spend all day sitting in front of the telly with a load of old people.’
    â€˜And your point is?’
    â€˜Stop it, Nay,’ Beverley came back at her. ‘Even you don’t wish her dead.’
    â€˜No, I suppose not,’ Naomi said reluctantly. ‘Well, it’s no skin off my nose, I suppose, if you have her come and live with you. Just don’t involve me, that’s all.’
    â€˜Oh, God, no,’ Beverley said. ‘This would be entirely our responsibility. Although it did occur to me that you might have her from time to time - for the odd weekend or few days here and there - just to give us a break.’
    Naomi nearly choked on her marble cake.
    â€˜Let’s get one thing straight,’ she snapped. ‘If you think I am having that neglectful, self-centred old bat living in my flat then you’ve got another think coming. Plus, it may have escaped your notice, darling, but we are not all little home bodies. Unlike you I have a career. I am up at six and don’t get home till ten at night. There is no way I can look after her. What’s more, I’ve just bought a new white sofa from Conran and I’m not having her sitting and weeing all over it.’
    While Naomi brushed cake crumbs off her expensive navy trousers on to the carpet, Beverley made the point that Queenie was still perfectly continent and reiterated that it would only be a couple of times a year, but Naomi wouldn’t budge.
    â€˜Great,’ Beverley said. ‘So I get landed.’
    â€˜No, Beverley, you haven’t simply got landed,’ Naomi said, about to shoot from the lip. ‘You’ve chosen to