<<You’re wasting your time.>>
That was it. I had to know whether he was reading me or if the vodka I’d had was laced with acid. I made my eyes wide and innocent.
<<Why, whatever do you mean?>>
<<You know exactly what I mean.>>
Bloody hell! My mouth dropped open. Feeling reckless I leaned in again, this time harder. A bad idea since my nipple hardened against James’s arm.
<<I told you to stop.>>
<<No, you said I was wasting my time.>>
<<I know all about your games, Paisley.>>
I had no idea what he was talking about but I went with it. <<Want to play?>>
Caroline looked between us and frowned, and James gathered her closer. Although shaken by our rapid exchange and disgusted my sister’s blue blood could read me, our silent conversation had been worth it. Anything that made Caroline squirm was satisfaction guaranteed. I gave up trying to bait James though, to study him, more than a little freaked by his ability.#p#分页标题#e#
Every once in a while our eyes would meet and I’d get a sense that I was missing something. Something big. It was like that feeling when you’ve forgotten a word and spend hours trying to remember it, only this was more frustrating, more intrinsic to my peace of mind somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on what I was feeling but I seemed to want something, to need something from James.
Annoyed with myself, I chalked the sensation up to finding out I was pregnant. My mind was playing tricks on me because of the shock. The more I thought about what else pregnancy would do to me, the more panicked I became. The upper from my pocket felt soothingly warm and smooth. A little bit of sunshine to get me through the night. Desperate for a high even if it were only a small one, I twiddled it between my fingers.
Caroline wanted us to pretend we ate family meals in our cramped kitchen, giving me the perfect excuse to escape. I volunteered to lay the table and pop the chicken in the oven so I could pop a little something else too. I think the only person who noticed me leave was James, but when I looked his back was turned.
Chapter Two
Ketchup on Your Face
I watched Jeremy Kyle browbeat his guests, feeling pretty damn smug my life wasn’t as screwed up as the ex-convict sleeping with his sister’s boyfriend. Then Caroline walked in, frowned, and immediately put a damper on my happy buzz. She switched off the TV and turned on Classic FM.
While some poor cow screeched in Italian, Caroline looked around the kitchen like one of those know-it-all designers—the ones who leech people’s homes of personality and call it tasteful. I backed off and watched her. The nineteen eighties Formica countertops and splintered, mismatched chairs contrasted sharply with Caroline’s carefully curated understated elegance. It was going to be a tight fit for dinner tonight. Our kitchen was big enough to cram in a table and chairs but not large enough to fit Caroline’s distaste.
She stared at my midriff. “Don’t you have anything else to wear? You look cheap.”
“This is my reality-TV look,” I said, eyeing her chic dress and glitzy shoes. Man, I loved shoes and Caroline had loads. “You could let me at your wardrobe if it really bothers you, and then we could ask James to pick out the real Caroline.”
Her frown turned into a scowl. We’re hardly clones but we’re very similar and she hates that. Caroline’s my height, slender and perfectly proportioned, unlike me. We share the same shade of honey-blond hair and we both wear it long, except that hers is always salon perfect. She’s most often described as classically beautiful though, and doesn’t get the crude attention I get. I’ve been cursed with the kind of padding that inspires panting, not poetry.
When we were little my mother used to say that Caroline was her strawberries and cream, all pink and white, and I was her peach crumble—until she forgot she was supposed to like peaches just as much as strawberries.
Our eye colour is different also. Mine are a changeling shade of blue whereas Caroline’s are a constant shade of bitch. Looking at her, they seemed harder than usual. I checked on the chicken and studied her as she made a salad. Her movements were stiffly precise.
Trouble in paradise maybe? I certainly hoped so.
“Is James too posh to help with the nosh?”
I laughed at my rhyme, watching Caroline grate a carrot and bobbing my head to the rhythm. Shit, I was high as a kite. If I weren’t careful she’d notice and tell the olds. I modulated my voice and tried to sound like I usually did.
“Where’s the toff?”
“If you mean James, he’s discussing the order of service with mother.”#p#分页标题#e#