THE PROMISE OF HAPPINESS. Erin Kaye

wish more people were prepared to take action on a personal level,’ she said, evasively. ‘Procreating isn’t the be all and end all. Louise’s mistake was in believing that motherhood was the only route to personal fulfilment. But there are many ways to happiness.’

      And Sian knew what she was talking about. She ran Earth Matters, the Fairtrade shop in Ballyfergus. She sold jewellery from co-operatives in Africa, toys made from recycled tin cans and bags fashioned from recycled rice sacks. She stocked organic clothing, Ecover home care products, washable nappies and Fairtrade rice, sugar and coffee from the third world. She worked hard in the business and nothing gave her more pleasure than the knowledge that, small as it was, she was making a difference.

      Joanne stared at her and said, ‘Well, I think it’s a subject we should agree to disagree on, Sian. Anyway, now’s not really the time, or the place, to discuss it.’

      ‘Whatever,’ said Sian pleased that she had rattled Joanne’s cage.

      Joanne cleared her throat and said, ‘Thanks for the potatoes and carrots by the way. They look lovely.’

      ‘Andy picked them this morning. First of the season,’ said Sian. ‘And all organic of course.’

      ‘I’d be disappointed if they weren’t,’ said Joanne, poking a little of what she no doubt thought was good-natured fun at her sister.

      Sian decided to let it pass. ‘You know, our allotment is a fraction of the size of this garden and look at the amount of food we produce – more than the two of us can eat at the height of the season. Have you ever thought of growing your own food?’

      The corners of Joanne’s mouth turned downwards, a bemused expression on her face. ‘Where would I find the time to do that, Sian? I do all the work in the garden as it is.’

      ‘Oh, it’s not too bad once you get it established. I would help you.’

      ‘But the garden isn’t big enough to have a vegetable plot, Sian.’

      ‘Sure it is. You’ve loads of room. Just do away with that border for a start,’ said Sian, pointing to a peony rose in full, pale pink flower. ‘It’s not doing anything.’

      ‘For your information it’s providing colour and interest,’ said Joanne. ‘And I like having cut flowers for the house.’

      ‘You’d still have a good-sized lawn and border on the other side,’ went on Sian, ignoring this observation and the sarcasm. ‘And the girls would absolutely love it. Look how excited they get when they come down to help me on the allotment. Well, Holly and Abbey anyway,’ she added, remembering that the last time Maddy had come she’d spent the whole time sitting on an upturned crate texting her mates. ‘Just think how thrilled they’d be about growing food for the table in their own backyard! And it makes sound economic sense too, not to mention it’d all be organic and so much better for you than the stuff you buy in the supermarket.’

      Sian paused for breath and Joanne said, rather sharply, ‘Tell you what. The day that Phil starts helping in the garden, that’ll be the day I plant a vegetable plot.’

      Sian frowned and looked over her shoulder into the lounge. Everyone had finished eating and a bottle of Baileys had appeared. Even their mother had a glass. Phil was nowhere to be seen. ‘Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since we got here.’

      ‘That’s because he isn’t here, Sian. He’s at the golf club. Phoned me just before people were due to arrive to say that he was in the clubhouse with his mates and they’d all ordered food.’

      ‘But what about all the food here?’ blurted out Sian. ‘You’ve enough to feed half of Africa.’

      ‘Don’t get me started,’ warned Joanne, waving the glass in her hand so violently that a little wine spilled out onto the concrete step, narrowly missing the toe of her jewelled, high-heeled sandal. Sian looked down at her Merrill hiking sandals and smiled – Joanne’s heels would be no use riding a bicycle. ‘I swear to God,’ went on Joanne, her voice shrill and taut, ‘if I start, I’ll never stop.’

      Louise appeared suddenly beside them, face flushed, holding a glass of wine in her hand. ‘Oh, is Andy playing football with Oli?’ she smiled. ‘Oh, he is. Oh, look!’ she cried and she placed a hand on her throat and swallowed.

      Just then Oli spied his mother and came barrelling across the grass. He threw his arms around her legs and cried, ‘I scored a goal, Mummy!’

      Louise scooped him into her arms and kissed him on the nose. ‘That’s fantastic, Oli. What a clever boy,’ she grinned and Oli leant over and pressed his soft, rose-red lips to his mother’s. Sian felt a stab of sudden sadness. She would never know such intimacy with a child of her own. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away.

      ‘Mummy?’ said Oli, all of a sudden. ‘Can Andy be my daddy?’

      Louise’s face fell momentarily and Joanne, standing behind her, inhaled sharply. But Louise recovered quickly and smiled, ‘No, darling. Andy can’t be your daddy because he lives with Auntie Sian. But we’ll see him all the time and you can play with him lots.’

      Oli nodded, content with this reply, and wriggled free of his mother’s embrace. He ran over to Andy, who was now being attacked by all the children, leaving Louise with a smear of mud on her white T-shirt.

      Joanne tutted and shook her head. ‘The poor child.’

      ‘He’s not a poor child,’ snapped Louise. ‘As far as he’s concerned a daddy is just someone you play football with and rough and tumble. And if he has someone to do that with – like Andy – he’s happy.’

      ‘I don’t know about that. I think he’s old enough to know what he’s missing out on.’

      ‘Did you get the box I sent over?’ said Sian, desperate to change the subject and avoid an argument between her sisters.

      Louise scowled at Joanne and then, turning to Sian said, ‘Yeah, thanks a million. The goodies will come in really handy.’

      ‘One of my customers lives round the corner from you,’ explained Sian. ‘He was going that way anyway so I just asked him to drop it off. One car journey instead of two.’

      ‘Resourceful,’ said Louise and Sian smiled, pleased with herself. There were so many ways to avoid unnecessary car journeys. You just had to be imaginative.

      ‘Goodies?’ said Joanne.

      ‘Ecover products,’ explained Sian. ‘Biodegradable laundry liquid, fabric conditioner, cleaning products, washing-up liquid.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Joanne, her eyes glazing over with indifference.

      ‘You can get refills for everything from the shop,’ she added, hopeful that where she had failed with Joanne she would succeed with Louise.

      ‘Oh, really. What a brilliant idea.’ Louise’s response was enthusiastic and genuine. Unlike Joanne, she treated Sian like an equal.

      Sian laughed. ‘I have to confess to an ulterior motive. I’m hoping to make you into a long-term customer.’

      ‘I’d be that anyway with or without the gift. But thank you so very much.’ Louise gave her a hug. ‘And thanks for finding the flat, Joanne. It’s great,’ she added, by way of reconciliation.

      Joanne beamed, pleased, and the atmosphere returned to normal.

      ‘Joanne rejected my offers of help, you know,’ said Sian and ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth.

      Joanne blushed. ‘It was a simple enough task. There was no need for both of us to get involved.’

      ‘Oh, it’s all right,’ ribbed Sian gently. ‘I’m only teasing. You can tell the truth. You just like being in control and doing things your way. You always have done.’

      Joanne shrugged and made no attempt to deny it. ‘Is that so awful?’