Free The Patterson Girls by Rachael Johns

still be here next Christmas. She walked into the jam-packed robe and reached for a few shoeboxes. Their mother was a walking cliché where shoes were concerned—owning far more than she could ever possibly wear. Madeleine and Abigail had inherited this obsession. ‘I’ll start with these.’
    Madeleine took the shoeboxes to the other side of the room, figuring that this would be a quick job. Unlike her sisters, she wasn’t sentimental. She’d take a look inside and if they were broken or hideously out of fashion, she’d turf them. But the Salvos could think again if they thought they were getting any of the good vintage stuff.
    â€˜Okay,’ Lucinda agreed, ‘but we all need to be mindful of Dad and each other. If we’re not sure about a decision, we consult.’
    â€˜Deal,’ said Charlie and Abigail in unison.
    â€˜Deal,’ Madeleine echoed, lifting the lid on a pair of pink tap shoes. Despite her desire to get through this as quickly as possible, she couldn’t help showing her sisters. ‘Remember Mum bought these when Abigail and Charlie started dance classes?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Abigail shrieked. ‘She used to be so embarrassing standing at the back of the hall, copying the teacher.’
    â€˜Possibly why neither of us lasted long in the class,’ Charlie added with a wry smile.
    The next hour was actually a lot more fun than they had anticipated. Madeleine relaxed despite herself and what could have been a very sad process became a kind of tribute to Mum’s individual fashion sense; a tribute to her.
    Every few minutes someone would exclaim, ‘Oh my, do you remember when she wore this?’ Then the sister in question would hold the gown up against herself and prance around the room imitating their mother as they shared memories. As with everything she did, Abigail took this to the extreme, actually removing her own clothes to dress up as their mother. She was wearing a nineteen-eighties blue taffeta ball gown—terrifying shoulder pads and all—when Madeleine found a shoebox that didn’t contain shoes.
    â€˜Oh,’ she said as she looked into a box bursting full of greeting cards. She picked up the first one and the tiered cake on the front immediately identified it as a wedding card. ‘What do you think Dad would want us to do with these?’
    â€˜What are they?’ Charlie asked, folding a fluffy white jumper as she spoke.
    Lucinda emerged from the walk-in robe and came to stand alongside Abigail who’d stopped dancing like she was some eighties teenager.
    â€˜Wedding cards,’ Madeleine told them.
    â€˜Ooh, let me have a look.’ Abigail bounded forward and snatched the card out of Madeleine’s hand. ‘Dear Brian and Annette. True love is a blessing. Cherish it and each other always. Congratulations on your nuptials. Best wishes, Mr and Mrs Benedict.’
    â€˜Who?’ Charlie frowned.
    â€˜Fuck knows,’ Madeleine said, not giving a damn anyway. Was Lucinda actually crying? Good Lord, she should have kept her mouth shut and disposed of this box discreetly. Her sisters were too sentimental for their own good.
    Abigail reached for another card and before Madeleine knew it, the others had abandoned their posts and were sitting on the floor blubbering like babies over the romantic sentiments in their parents’ wedding cards.
    She’d just decided it was time to go fetch that wine after all when Lucinda said, ‘Hey, take a look at this one. A bit weird, don’t you think?’
    Curious despite herself, Madeleine leaned over Lucinda’s shoulder and followed along as she read the card aloud. ‘Darling Annette, it is a pleasure to welcome you to the Patterson family on this beautiful spring day. We truly hope you and Brian will be very happy and that you are right in your belief that the Patterson curse is a load of codswallop. Best wishes, Aunt Victoria and Aunt