Read Online At the Reunion Buffet by Alexander McCall Smith - Free Book Online

that there was something that made you unhappy. Am I right?”
    Barbara was not looking at her, but was staring fixedly at the floor.
    “Am I?” repeated Isabel.
    Barbara nodded, almost imperceptibly. “I…I…” She stopped.
    “You don’t have to tell me,” said Isabel.
    She could just make out the reply. “You know we had another sister? You know that there were three of us?”
    Isabel shook her head. “I thought there were just two.”
    “Well, there was an older sister—she was five years older than I was. You wouldn’t have known her because she was at the top end of the school when we started. She was called Andrea.”
    Isabel waited for her to continue.
    “She’s dead now.”
    Isabel lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
    “I hated her.”
    Isabel looked into Barbara’s eyes and saw the pain.
    “She bullied both of us,” said Barbara. “She was mean to us in every way you could imagine. My parents never saw it because she was so cunning, and it was concealed. We feared her, you know—we felt real fear. I wet the bed until I was twelve because of her—just because of her. My sister too.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “So when I went to school I felt that the only way I could protect myself from being hurt was to hurt others. I really thought that.”
    Isabel recognized this. It lay at the heart of the psychology of bullying. “You say she’s dead?”
    “Yes, she drowned in Spain. She was on holiday with some people there and she got into difficulties when she was swimming off a beach. I had to go out there to identify the body. I saw her laying in this ghastly morgue place and I just wept and wept and wept. I never thought it possible to cry for somebody who seemed to hate you so much. How was that possible? Or was I weeping for myself—for everything that had happened to me?”
    “Can you forgive her? Can you do that?”
    There was no response.
    “Because if you can,” said Isabel, “even if you can
start
to forgive, then it will become easier.”
    “And?”
    “And then you will be able to forgive yourself—and ask others to forgive you.” Isabel paused. “I’m sorry, this is sounding a bit like a lecture, but it isn’t. It’s common sense—it’s how we get through everyday life. There’s nothing special about it. We all have to face this sort of thing—every one of us.”
    Barbara still stared at the floor, but Isabel had a feeling that she had been listening. Now, she thought, is the time to take control.
    “All right,” she said. “I know how you can apologize to Jenny for your unkindness to her. You can’t deliver the apology to her, but you can to Eleanor, who was her friend.”
    “She hates me,” said Barbara. “I can tell.”
    “Maybe she does,” said Isabel. “I won’t lie to you about that. But you might be surprised at how quickly hate can evaporate—given a chance. Shall we try?”
    Isabel saw that Barbara was crying. She moved over and put her arm about her.
    “I’m sorry,” said Barbara. “This is not just about the past. You see, my husband is leaving me. He’s been having an affair for over a year now, and it’s come to a head. I fought for him, but he’s chosen her rather than me. I’m sorry, I’m just so upset about that.”
    “Oh, Barbara…”
    “I’ll be all right. What you said to me is true. I’ll be all right. Just give me a few minutes. But one thing…”
    “Yes?”
    “Don’t tell anybody else about this—about my husband. I don’t want people’s pity—I really don’t.”
    —
    Jamie asked that afternoon, when Isabel returned from the lunch at the museum, “So what happened at the restaurant? Anything?”
    “Something rather important,” said Isabel.
    “Ah,” said Jamie. “Tell all.”
    So Isabel told him.
    “I spoke to Barbara Grant.”
    Jamie grinned. “So she is who she claims to be? Not an
imposter
?” He made the word sound ridiculous.
    “No.” She looked at him sternly. “Do you want me to carry on? Because