Free Rainy Day Sisters by Kate Hewitt Page A

or tearing her hair out or both, because Juliet might think Fiona had wanted her, but Lucy had never felt all that wanted. Her whole childhood had felt like an apology for messing up her mother’s life.
    And Juliet probably felt the same. Perhaps they had something in common, even if her
half
sister didn’t think they did.
    But she could hardly go explaining that to Juliet now. She didn’t even want to face her, and the anger and contempt she’d seen so plainly on her face when Lucy had thought they’d been enjoying a pleasant dinner together.
    With a sigh she reached for her laptop. She didn’t care anymore that her life here in Hartley-by-the-Sea wasn’t as promising as she’d hoped it would be. She needed to talk to a friend.
    It took three attempts on Skype to reach Chloe, who was, Lucy realized belatedly, at work at two o’clock on a Thursday afternoon.
    â€œLuce.” The Internet connection was so slow that while Lucy could hear Chloe’s voice, her friend’s face was frozen in a smiling rictus, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. “What’s up? You know I’m at work, right?”
    â€œSorry, I forgot the time difference.”
    â€œIt’s okay. I’m taking a late lunch. I’ve been thinking about you. How’s village life? As charming as you hoped?”
    Briefly Lucy remembered talking with determined airiness about the appeal of English villages. She’d been picturing something vaguely Shakespearean in the Cotswolds, all thatched roofs and clotted cream.
    â€œâ€˜Charming’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” she said. Even though Chloe’s image was still frozen on the computer screen, Lucy heard a tiny sigh, and then Chloe shifting her chair.
    â€œYou need to give yourself some time to settle in, Luce. How’s the job?”
    Lucy thought of Alex yelling at her about the stupid card stock. “Not great. But that’s not really it. . . .” She trailed off, realizing that she didn’t actually want to tell Chloe about Juliet, or what she’d said. It felt disloyal, as if it wasn’t her secret to share. “It’s just a bit more awkward than I expected.”
    â€œWell, it’s bound to be, isn’t it? You and Juliet barely know each other.” Chloe spoke bracingly, the way she always did, but it irritated Lucy now. She didn’t want a pep talk. She wanted sympathy. She wanted to do the one thing she’d tried to keep herself from, which was to luxuriate in self-pity. To stop looking for the bright side and wallow in the darkness instead.
    â€œI’m not sure she wants to get to know me,” she said finally. She pictured Juliet’s face right before she’d stalked out of the kitchen. Lucy had never seen such an expression of resentment and
loathing
before. Her mother might have used her as publicity fodder, and her boyfriend of three years might have broken up with her with no more than a shrug of apology, but neither of them had looked at her as Juliet had.
    â€œShe invited you,” Chloe protested reasonably. “So she must want you there.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought.” Lucy tried for a laugh and didn’t quite succeed. “But honestly? I have no idea why she invited me. She certainly isn’t acting like she wants me here. At all.”
    â€œThen maybe you should ask her. Get to the bottom of this.”
    Which would, of course, be Chloe’s advice. Chloe was confrontational, even aggressive. She’d faced down their smarmy landlord when the loft conversion they’d rented in South Boston during college hadn’t actually been all that converted. Lucy had hidden behind a stack of old copper piping and watched a huge rat waddle across the floor of their stripped apartment.
    â€œI can’t,” she said.
    â€œWhy not? What have you got to lose?”
    â€œA place to live? Seriously, Chloe. I