In My Sister's Shoes Read Online Free PDF Page A

drink.’
    ‘Dad, I hate to interrupt your shouting-match with Derek, but Fiona’s sick so I’m afraid you can’t have a heart-attack right now.’
    ‘I’m all right now. Sorry, pet. What exactly is it?’ asked Dad, still panting from the near coronary.
    ‘It’s a little lump. They want to take it out and examine it. It’s probably not that bad at all,’ I said.
    ‘Where’s the lump?’
    I winced. ‘It’s on her breast.’
    ‘So it’s breast cancer?’ Dad whispered. I knew he was thinking his beautiful Fiona couldn’t have breast cancer. This couldn’t be happening to him again. God couldn’t be so cruel as to take his wife and his daughter.
    ‘It looks like it. They’re going to cut it out and examine it,’ I said, as my father shuddered. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fiiiiine .’ I burst into tears. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. I had planned to be strong and reassuring and already I was failing miserably
    Dad forgot about his heart and went into organizing mode. ‘OK, don’t get upset. Have you booked your flight?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What time do you land?’
    ‘Seven.’
    ‘I’ll be there to meet you and we’ll get the best doctors in the country to look after her. We’ll fix this, Katie, don’t you worry. We will sort this mess out. Fiona is not going to die. Not from that bastard of a disease. Just you get home and I’ll take care of everything else,’ he said.
    ‘Dad?’
    ‘Yes, pet?’
    ‘I won’t be working for a while so I might need you to help me with my rent.’
    ‘For God’s sake, Kate, you’re thirty years old. You need to take responsibility for your life. I thought you were getting paid a fortune on this new show.’
    ‘The salary was better but I’ll have to give it up to come home, so I’ll be broke again.’
    ‘At your age! It’s ridiculous. How many times did I say it to you? You have to put something aside for a rainy day –’
    ‘Dad! Can you save the rainy-day speech for another time? I don’t need you shouting at me. I’m stressed enough as it is.’
    The extension phone clicked. ‘Yo, I don’t know what’s up with you two, but the ambulance is on its way for you, Dad, and FYI, I don’t think you’re supposed to be shouting when you’re having a heart-attack. If you need CPR, can you hurry up and let me know coz I’m going out to a gig with Gonzo in ten momentos,’ drawled Derek.

5
    Sleep evaded me that night: I woke up time and again from a recurring nightmare of giant breasts chasing me down a street. Finally I dragged myself out of bed and made a large cup of strong coffee. I shuddered as I remembered Fiona’s voice – so lifeless.
    On automatic pilot, I showered, dressed and went to work. I got there before anyone else did and found two large Post-its stuck to my computer screen. One was from my producer, Donna, wanting to know why the hell I’d freaked out during an important interview, and the other was from Gary, the cameraman, telling me that Donna was doing her nut.
    I went through the tapes of the interview with the teenage star. There was very little we could use, but maybe if we interspersed it with trailers from the film, we’d get away with it. I sat down to write a grovelling email to the PR lady who had evicted me from Claridges. I decided to try the woman-to-woman approach and explained that I was having some personal problems and that I’d never meant to insult the wonderful Anna-Lisa and I was planning to give the film a rave review. By the time Donna arrived in, I had managed – with the help of super-editor Gordon – to piece together a usable five minutes of footage. I spent the rest of the morning compiling the other segments of the show, then went to tell Donna I was leaving.
    I knocked on her office door and popped my head in. ‘Hi, Donna.’
    ‘What the bloody hell’s going on? I’ve had the PR woman from Warner Brothers screaming down the phone at me because my presenter abused her