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

when he handed it over. Then he told us that boys were off limits until we were thirty. He regularly mentioned how wonderful he thought Mother Teresa was and how she seemed to be in desperate need of helpers: would we not think of becoming nuns and helping the poor? This was met with much eye-rolling and ‘As if!’ from his healthy, heterosexual teenage daughters.
    When I decided I wanted to go to discos, Dad was at a loss. When I asked, he said no.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because I said no and that’s the end of it.’
    ‘You have to let me go. Everyone’s going. I’ll be the only person in my class not there.’
    ‘It’s good to be different. It’ll make you stand out from the crowd.’
    ‘Different! I’ll be the laughing-stock of the school. Do you want me to be the class loser? The person everyone feels sorry for because she’s never allowed out? Do you want me to have no friends?’ I screeched.
    ‘Jesus, my eardrums. Calm down. No one’s going to think you’re an outcast because you don’t go to this dance.’
    ‘It’s a disco, not a stupid dance, and I have to go. Give me one good reason why I can’t go.’
    ‘Because I said so.’
    ‘Everyone else’s parents are letting them go.’
    ‘Good for them.’
    ‘Dad, you can’t do this to me! I have to go! I don’t want to be the class nerd! Do you want me to be bullied and cast out of my group?’
    ‘Your sister’s never gone to a disco and she’s plenty friends. Now, stop your nonsense, you’re not going.’
    Bloody Fiona, I thought bitterly. All she did was study. She had been the school super-brain and was now in her first year at university, studying pure mathematics. She’d never wanted to go to discos when she was still at school because she spent her spare time at chess or maths clubs.
    ‘Fiona and I are different,’ I reminded him, determined to wear him down. ‘Different people have different needs. Fiona likes playing chess with other nerds, I want to go and dance with my friends.’
    ‘You’d be much better off playing chess.’
    ‘Dad, Fiona was born with brains, I was born with…’ I wasn’t sure what I’d been born with. Average height, average looks, and average ability in sports and schoolwork. I didn’t shine at anything. My friends told me I was funny, but who wanted to be funny when guys were only interested in looks?
    ‘I’m waiting with bated breath. What were you born with, apart from a big mouth?’ said Dad, grinning behind his newspaper.
    ‘Pizzazz,’ I announced, delighted with myself for having thought that one up.
    ‘Pizzazz!’ snorted Dad. ‘And is that going to get you into college?’
    ‘Liza Minnelli has it, Judy Garland had it, uhm…’ I racked my brain to come up with other successful movie stars.
    ‘Judy Garland died of drugs and poor Liza’s been on a rocky road. A bit less pizzazz from you, madam, and a bit more studying. This conversation is over,’ he said, muttering that I was a handful.
    ‘Dad,’ I said, voice quavering, ‘if you don’t let me go to this disco I will never forgive you.’
    ‘Kate,’ said Dad, ‘if you don’t get out of my sight I will send you to a boarding-school where they only let you out to go to mass and pray for your lost soul.’
    I never made it to that disco, but after a weekend of following Dad around in my pyjamas crying, and asking him to drive me to the Samaritans so I could get counselling on how to cope without friends, he let me go the following month. Anything for an easy life.
    As I walked through the Arrivals door, I felt nervous. I had no idea what the next six months would hold. Would Fiona get better? How would I cope with the twins? What was I going to do when they didn’t need me anymore? I had no job, no life. I wanted to turn round and run. ‘Get a grip,’ I muttered angrily to myself.
    I took a deep breath and walked through the Arrivals door, dragging my enormous suitcase. Dad was at the barrier, hopping from one foot to the other,