Page 27 of The Good Sister

Everything is fine.

‘Where were you?’ Rose asks.

After everything that’s happened, it takes me a moment to remember. ‘At the team-building night. We went bowling.’

There’s a short silence.Thisis exactly why I hate phone calls. A silence can mean so many things. Has the call dropped out? Is she taking a sip of her drink? Is she waiting for me to say something?

Finally, she speaks. ‘You wentbowling?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? Is this because of the new boss?’

Rose knows how much I loved Janet. ‘Yes. It was compulsory for all staff to attend. It didn’t go well,’ I admit.

I hear her exhale. ‘Oh, Fern. Did you get overwhelmed?’

‘A little,’ I say, deciding not to tell her about the sensory meltdown. Rose worries too much as it is.

‘You must be tired,’ she says. ‘How did you get home?’

‘A friend drove me.’

Another pause. ‘Which friend?’

‘Wally.’

The longest pause yet. ‘Is Wally aguy?’

There’s something about Rose’s tone that irritates me.Of courseshe could never just be happy that I have a guy friend! I also feel irritated at myself. Why do I need her to be happy? That’s the strangest thing about having a sister, in my opinion. The way you can be mad at them and want their approval all at once.

‘Yes. He’s a guy.’

‘Where did you meet him?’

‘At the library. He was taking a shower.’

‘Ashower?’ Rose sounds mad.

‘He doesn’t have a shower,’ I explain. ‘He lives in his van.’

I glance out the window and am pleasantly surprised to see the van is still out there. I squint at the driver’s seat, trying to spot him. The van is in darkness but it’s possible that he’s in the back. Maybe he’s already gone to sleep? I kneel on my couch to get a better view.

‘So let me get this straight. You’ve been bowling tonight, and you were driven home by a man who lives in his van?’

From my kneeling spot on the couch, I replay the sentence in my head and find it accurate. ‘Yes.’

‘Fern, you need to be careful. This man could be trying to take advantage of you. For money or food or even sex!’

I smile at the last part. If only she knew.

There is a knock on the door. I startle and fall off the couch onto the floorboards.

‘Fern! Are you all right?’

‘Fine,’ I say, straightening up. ‘Er, Rose . . . I’ve got to go. Someone is at the door.’

‘At this time of night–’