The Annie Carter Series Books 1–4. Jessie Keane

Chris into the kitchen and found Ruthie sitting at the kitchen table.

      ‘Fuck, you gave me a turn,’ said Annie, dropping her bags and clutching at her chest.

      ‘Sorry,’ said Ruthie coolly. ‘The man on the door said you should be back soon, so I thought I’d wait.’

      Annie nodded. Christ, she felt bewildered. Her brain seemed to be in a fog. She took a hold of herself and put on her smile.

      ‘Tea?’ she offered brightly.

      ‘No, give me something stronger,’ ordered Ruthie.

      Annie looked at her sister. It wasn’t like Ruthie to boss people about. And it was two in the afternoon, and she wanted a drink? Ruthie might be beautifully turned out, but she looked even skinnier than when Annie had last seen her at Mum’s. She might not be eating, but she was obviously drinking.

      ‘Bit early, don’t you think?’

      ‘No, I don’t think,’ said Ruthie. ‘Get me a sherry or something.’

      Annie bit her lip and got down a bottle of Amontillado from the store cupboard. She put out a schooner and filled it. Ruthie, to her dismay, threw half of it back in an instant. Annie’s heart seemed to freeze in her chest. This is my doing, she thought, I did this to my own sister.

      ‘So, is this a social call?’ asked Annie as she busied herself putting on the kettle.

      ‘I got fed up at Mum’s,’ said Ruthie, polishing off the rest of the glass while Annie watched out of the corner of her eye, appalled. ‘Kath’s away on holiday, I thought it was time I came and paid my dear little sister a visit.’

      Christ, she was already drunk. Her words were slurred. Ruthie held up her empty glass and tapped it.

      ‘No, you’ve had enough,’ said Annie firmly.

      Ruthie grabbed Annie’s arm with surprising strength. ‘I’m Mrs Max Carter,’ she shouted. ‘I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.’

      Chris’s head came round the hall door. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked.

      ‘Everything’s fine,’ said Ruthie with a giggle.

      ‘Yeah, it’s okay Chris,’ said Annie, wrenching her arm free. ‘Thanks. Make sure we’re not disturbed, will you?’

      Chris looked at them both and then withdrew, closing the door softly behind him.

      She sat down opposite Ruthie and looked at her.

      ‘You want to kill yourself?’ Annie asked. ‘Haven’t you seen enough of what drink does to somebody? Haven’t we both had years of it to know better?’

      Ruthie shrugged and reached for the bottle. Annie grabbed her wrist. Ruthie winced. Annie was fitter and stronger than this wreck her sister had become.

      ‘Ruthie,’ she said, letting go. ‘Whatever life’s thrown at you, don’t let it grind you down like this. Don’t chuck it all away.’

      Ruthie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Jesus, advice on life from the husband-stealer!’

      ‘All right, Ruthie. Listen. If you can’t get over it, if you hate him so much, why go on with it? Get a divorce.’

      ‘Oh no.’ Ruthie shook her head. It waggled like a rag on a stick. ‘What, and leave the way clear for little Annie? I don’t think so.’

      ‘You’re only hurting yourself, Ruthie. What good is that?’

      ‘I don’t care,’ said Ruthie, sloshing more sherry into her glass. ‘I don’t care about anything any more. I’m going back home tomorrow, back to Surrey. It’s nice in the country. If you ignore the peasants.’

      Ruthie roared with laughter, as if she had just said something extremely funny.

      Annie looked at her sister, nonplussed. She had never thought of Ruthie as weak, but now she clearly saw that she was.

      ‘I thought of having a baby,’ said Ruthie. ‘But you have to have sex to get babies. We don’t even sleep in the same bed any more.’

      This was more than Annie wanted to know. So their sex life was over. She should feel sad for her sister. Fuck it, she did feel sad for Ruthie, desperately sad. But a small, treacherous part of her was relieved.

      ‘You’re a young woman,’ said Annie, hating herself for how she felt.

      ‘Yeah, so I am.’ Ruthie nodded vigorously as she slurped back another belt. She swallowed and then looked Annie dead in the eye. ‘And you know what? I don’t care whether I live or not.’

      ‘Ruthie!’

      ‘It’s the truth. I don’t care any more. About anything. Because you’ve ruined my life.’

      Now Annie felt real anger take hold.

      ‘For fuck’s sake, Ruthie!’ she burst out. ‘I’m sorry as hell, I’ve said it over and over again, how many more times do I have to say it? I won’t let you keep punishing me like this, it has to stop.’

      And then Ruthie just sat there and sobbed.

       30

      ‘Good afternoon, Miss Bailey. I hope you’re well?’

      Thank God for Redmond Delaney and a sense of normality, thought Annie. Ever since the exhibition she had felt that she was losing her mind. Seeing Max had rattled her, seeing Ruthie so upset had rattled her even more. It was hard for her to keep on track, to keep everything running as it should, but somehow she was managing.

      Dig deep and stand alone, she thought. She had to carry on doing that however hard it might be.

      She had started making elaborate plans, frantically occupying her thoughts with business, trying to cope with her emotional disorder through diversion. When she heard that deep cool, Irish voice on the phone, it steadied her somehow. And now she had a face to put to the voice. Handsome, chilly Redmond Delaney. Twin to Orla and brother to sweet and scatty Kieron – not to mention that disgusting lout Pat.

      ‘I’m very well, Mr Delaney. And you?’

      ‘Perfectly fine, thank you. How is business?’

      ‘I’m going to expand,’ said Annie.

      ‘Indeed?’

      ‘The parties are going so well I’m going to have them three times a month. We can’t cope with the demand and we don’t want too many punters in here at any one time.’

      ‘That’s good news, Miss Bailey.’

      ‘Also, I’ve been thinking.’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Quite a few of our clients are prosperous professionals, Mr Delaney. They need a place to go that’s close to the City – to Whitehall.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘So in addition to this business, I’m also planning to rent an apartment – a nice one – perhaps in Mayfair?’

      ‘That will be expensive.’

      ‘Not if you chip in half the rent.’

      There was a short silence before he came back: ‘We’ll need to renegotiate my cut.’

      ‘That goes without saying,’ said Annie, who had already thought all this through.

      ‘By the very nature of the business, the rentals may have to be short-term. If you are not in our area other interests may come into play. Neighbours may have more influence. You will have to be cautious. And extremely discreet.’

      ‘Yes, I do realize that.’