Read Online The Convent by Maureen McCarthy - Free Book Online Page B

ponytail.
    â€˜Much cooler like this,’ I murmur.
    â€˜I know,’ she sighs.
    â€˜So why didn’t you have it up?’
    â€˜It makes me look ridiculous.’
    I have to smile. I twist her shoulders around so I can see her from the front and we grin at each other. It does look ridiculous. The ponytail, I mean. It looks like some weird black plant sticking straight up out of her head.
    â€˜And there are so many people here to see you, Stella, and all of them with cameras. You and your freaky hairdo with be all over the internet before you know it.’
    She giggles and gives me one of her gorgeous bright-dark smiles, her enormous eyes twinkling in the low light from the flickering television. I have to wonder (for the millionth time), if her burgeoning weight means she is in the middle of some deep inner crisis, then how come she seems so cheerful most of the time?
    â€˜You never know who might be watching,’ she says, mimicking Nana, who tried to teach us about being groomed at all times. When you least expect it, girls, the man of your dreams will be coming around the corner of the street!
    â€˜Yeah. Even at three a.m., someone might call,’ I say, then take both her hands and pull her up. ‘Come on, switch that off.’
    She allows herself to be led until we reach the foot of the stairs, then she stops and pulls her hand away. I turn to see that she is frowning.
    â€˜Come on,’ I say sharply, about to turn off the light.
    â€˜So how come?’ she whispers, lifting her eyes to my face. ‘How come you don’t have them anymore?’
    â€˜What are you talking about?’ I snap, pretending I don’t know what she means, but of course I do. She knows I do, too, which makes it all the more crazy to be standing here denying it at three a.m. on this hot, airless night. But I know this much about myself, that if I let her embark on one of her big rambling monologues about my dreams now, I’ll start screaming.
    â€˜Those dreams were so … you , Peach.’
    â€˜Bed,’ I say again, sharply.
    â€˜But I won’t sleep,’ she whines. ‘I won’t.’
    â€˜You just tell yourself that.’
    â€˜No, I honestly won’t sleep,’ she sighs miserably.
    â€˜You will.’
    â€˜Can I sleep with you?’ she whines. ‘Please, Peach?’
    â€˜It’s too hot.’
    â€˜I swear I won’t touch you.’
    â€˜Promise?’ I sigh, too hot to fight her.
    She nods happily and hurries up the stairs like a little kid. ‘I’ll bring the big fan in,’ she calls over her shoulder. ‘Okay?’
    â€˜Okay,’ I say sourly.
    I walk up the stairs behind my sister watching her bum bounce up and down. There are rolls of fat around her neck. She pauses on the stairs and tries to sound offhand.
    â€˜When are Mum and Dad coming back?’
    â€˜Six weeks on Saturday.’
    â€˜Oh, I can’t wait,’ she sighs. ‘It will be soooo great to see them again, won’t it?’
    â€˜Yeah. I guess.’ Our parents have only been gone two weeks, but Stella is already missing them. She’ll be like a bloody caged cat by the time they get back. She goes straight for the shower, comes out stark naked and goes to her room for the big fan.
    â€˜Wear a nightie,’ I yell after her.
    â€˜It’s too hot!’ she calls back.
    â€˜Stay in your own room then!’
    â€˜Such a prude.’
    â€˜Yeah, well … cop it.’
    When she comes back in with the fan she is wearing a cotton nightdress like mine, except hers only just fits her.
    I head for the bathroom and stand under the lovely cold water, gasping as the cold enters my bones. I know I won’t get much sleep now. It is a double bed, but once she’s asleep my sister’s legs and arms often fling out in odd directions. She’ll grunt and sigh and snore a little. She is actually liable to push me out. But