Second Life Read Online Free PDF Page B

I think. That’s why I’m here. I’m doing the right thing.
    So why do I hate myself?
    ‘It’s okay,’ says Anna. ‘You go ahead and cry. It’s okay.’

Chapter Four
    We take a cab to the restaurant. We’re shown to our table, outside on the pavement.
White tablecloth, held down with plastic clips, a basket of bread. The evening is
warm and pleasant, the air still, loaded with promise.
    We chat. Once I recovered we told ourselves we must spend the evening celebrating
Kate’s life as well as mourning her death. We laugh, there’s an ease between us;
Anna even takes out her phone and takes a snap of the two of us with the river in
the background. She tells me she likes this area of the city and wants to live here,
one day. ‘It’s very central,’ she says. ‘By the river . . .’ She orders a carafe
of wine. As the waiter begins to pour I put my hand over the top of my glass and
shake my head.
    ‘You’re not drinking?’
    ‘No,’ I say. I think of the excuses I’ve made in the past – I’m on antibiotics, I’m
dieting, or driving – but then the inevitable happens. Other excuses begin to crowd
in, the ones that tell me why this time, this one time, I can take a sip. It’s been
a difficult day, I’m stressed, it’s been fifteen years and it won’t do any harm.
    My sister has been killed.
    ‘I’m fine.’
    I think back to what I’ve learned. I can’t avoid the temptation to drink, I have
to recognize the urge. I have to know that it’s normal, and temporary. I have to
challenge it, or ride it out.
    ‘To be honest, I don’t drink. I haven’t for a while.’ Anna nods and sips her wine
while I ask for some sparkling water. She looks interested but asks no questions,
and I’m relieved. When she puts her glass down I see that she’s distracted, restless.
She shifts in her seat, rearranges her napkin.
    ‘I wanted to talk to you about something.’
    ‘Go on.’
    She hesitates. I wonder what she’s going to say. I know the police have interviewed
her extensively; the bar Kate was in that evening is one she goes to. I brace myself
for a revelation.
    ‘It’s about the money . . .’
    I smile. Kate’s will must have surprised her, and Hugh warned me she’d probably mention
it.
    ‘The money Kate left to you?’
    ‘Yes. It was a shock . . .’ She picks off some bread. ‘I really wasn’t expecting
it. To be honest, I had no idea she had any money to leave, let alone that she’d
leave some of it to me . . . And I didn’t ask her for it. I do want you to know that.’
    I nod. I remember it’d been Hugh who had persuaded Kate to write a will in the first
place, and we’d both been relieved when she’d later changed it to include Anna. It
meant she had friends, she was putting down roots.
    ‘I know. It’s okay.’
    ‘Were you surprised? That she left money to me?’
    ‘No. It makes sense. You were her best friend. Kate was a generous person. She must
have wanted you to have it.’
    She looks relieved. I wonder whether it’s because of the money, or the fact that
this conversation isn’t proving as awkward as she’d feared.
    ‘Where did it come from?’
    ‘Our father. He died a couple of years ago and left his money to Kate. Just what
was in the bank, plus the proceeds from the sale of his house. It came to a lot more
than anyone expected.’
    A lot more, I think. Almost a million pounds. But I don’t say it.
    ‘Did he leave some to you?’
    I shake my head. ‘He thought I didn’t need it, I guess.’
    Or maybe it was guilt. He knew he’d neglected his younger daughter. He was trying
to make it up to her.
    Anna sighs.
    ‘Oh, it’s okay,’ I say quickly. ‘Hugh has money in the family and Kate was struggling.’
    ‘But she didn’t spend it.’
    ‘No. Hugh suggested she put some of it away, save it for a rainy day. But neither
of us thought she would actually listen to him.’
    ‘I would happily give my share to you. If you want?’
    She’s being serious. I put my hand on