“Wow!” says the waitress. “Cool!”
“I’ll just have some plain tap water, thanks,” says Jess, closing her menu.
“Don’t you want a nice frothy coffee?” I say in surprise.
“I don’t want to pay vastly inflated prices to a global moneymaking corporation.” She gives the waitress a severe look. “Do you think a 400 percent profit margin is ethical?”
“Um…” The waitress looks stumped. “Did you want ice in your water?” she says at last.
“Have a coffee too,” I say quickly. “Go on.” I look at the waitress. “She’ll have a cappuccino.” I turn to Jess. “You get a free chocolate in the saucer!”
As the waitress scuttles away, Jess frowns.
“Do you know the real cost of making a cappuccino? It’s a few pence. And we’re being charged nearly two pounds.”
God, Jess has a bit of a thing about coffee, doesn’t she? But never mind. I’ll just change the subject.
“So!” I lean back and spread my arms. “Tell me all about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” says Jess.
“Everything!” I say enthusiastically. “Like… what are your hobbies, apart from walking?”
She ponders for a few moments.
“I like caving,” she says at last, as the waitress puts two cappuccinos down in front of us.
“Caving!” I echo. “Is that where you… go into caves?”
Jess gives me a look over her cup.
“That’s basically it, yes.”
“Wow! That’s really…”
I’m struggling for words. What can I say about caves? Apart from they’re all dark and cold and slimy.
“That’s really interesting!” I say at last. “I’d love to go in a cave!”
“And of course rocks,” Jess adds. “That’s my main interest.”
“Me too! Especially great big shiny rocks from Tiffany’s!” I laugh, to show I’m joking, but Jess doesn’t react. I’m not entirely sure she got it.
“My Ph.D. is on the petrogenesis and geochemistry of fluorite-hematite deposits,” she says, showing more animation than she has all day.
I don’t think I understood one bit of that.
“Er… great!” I say. “So… how come you decided to study rocks?”
“My father got me into it,” says Jess, and her face relaxes into a smile. “It’s his passion too.”
“Dad?” I say in amazement. “I never knew he was into rocks!”
“Not your dad.” She gives me a scathing look. “My dad. My stepfather. The man who brought me up.”
Right.
Of course she didn’t mean Dad. That was really stupid.
Suddenly my head is full of questions.
“So… did your dad… did he always know that you…” I trail off, not quite knowing how to put it.
“My dad knew I wasn’t his, pretty much from the word go.” Jess is turning a spoon over and over in her fingers. “But he raised me all the same. He never treated me any different from my brothers.”
I dart a look at her averted face.
“Did you know?” I ask hesitantly. “That he wasn’t really your dad?”
“Yes. But we didn’t talk about it. He was my real dad, as far as I was concerned. Still is.”
“Didn’t you ever want to go looking for your… biological father?”
“I might have done.” She stops rotating the spoon. “Once. But then Mum died and Dad was all I had left. I didn’t need another dad. It was only when I found out about this blood disorder. I realized there could be people related to me, not knowing they were at risk. I felt responsible. It would have preyed on my mind.” She looks up. “You should get yourself tested, Becky.”
“Oh, I’m going to,” I say quickly. “Dad already has been, but he’s OK. And… er… thanks.”
“No problem.”
“So… what’s your dad like?”
Jess deliberates for a while. “He’s great,” she says at last.
I wait for more details… but there don’t seem to be any. I don’t quite dare ask about her mum. Not until I know her better.
Jess sips her water and I fiddle with my chocolate wrapper, wondering what to talk about next. I’m slightly at a loss, which is ridiculous. This is my sister! Come on!
“So, are you going on holiday this year?” I ask at last. God, I must be desperate. I sound like a hairdresser.
“I don’t know yet,” says Jess. “It all depends.”
Suddenly I have the most marvelous idea.
“We could go on holiday together!” I say in excitement. “Wouldn’t that be great? We could get a villa in Italy or something… really get to know each other—”
“Rebecca, listen,” Jess interrupts flatly. “I’m not looking for another family.”
My face is suddenly hot.
“I–I know,” I stammer. “I didn’t mean…”
“I don’t need another family,” she presses on. “I said this to Jane and Graham in the summer. That’s not why I tracked you down. It was my duty to contact you about the medical situation. That’s all.”
“What do you mean by ‘that’s all’?” I falter.
“I mean it’s nice to meet you. And your mum and dad are great. But you’ve got your life”—she pauses—“and I’ve got mine.”
Is she saying she doesn’t want to get to know me?
Her own sister?
“But we’ve only just found each other!” I say in a rush. “After all these years! Don’t you find it amazing?” I lean forward and put my hand next to hers. “Look! We have the same blood!”
“So what?” Jess looks unmoved. “It’s just a biological fact.”
“But… haven’t you always wanted a sister? Haven’t you always wondered what it would be like?”
“Not particularly.” She must see the hurt on my face. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s been interesting to meet you.”
Interesting? It’s been interesting?
I push the froth around the cappuccino with my spoon. She doesn’t want to get to know me. My own sister doesn’t want to get to know me. What’s wrong with me?
Nothing’s going the way I planned. I thought today would be one of the best days of my life. I thought shopping with my sister would be fun. I thought we’d be bonded by now. I thought we’d be having coffee, surrounded by all our fab new things, laughing and teasing each other…
“So, shall we go back to your mum’s?” says Jess, draining her cup.
“What… already?” I say, startled. “But… we’ve got hours left. You haven’t even bought anything yet!”
Jess sighs impatiently.
“Look, Becky. I wanted to be polite, so I came along today. But the truth is, I really can’t stand shopping.”
My heart sinks. I knew she wasn’t having a good time. I knew she hated my taste. I have to salvage this.
“I know we haven’t found the right shops yet.” I lean forward eagerly. “But there are more. We can go into different ones—”
“No,” Jess interrupts. “You don’t get it. I don’t like shopping. Full stop.”
“Catalogs!” I say, suddenly inspired. “We could go home, get a load of catalogs… it’d be fun!”
“Can’t you get this through your head?” Jess exclaims in exasperation. “Read my lips very carefully. I. Hate. Shopping.”
When we arrive home, Luke is in the front garden, talking to Dad. As he sees us pulling into the drive he
