Read Online The Sister: A psychological thriller with a brilliant twist you won't see coming by Louise Jensen - Free Book Online

Charlie had brought my special massager for her to borrow. She handed me my vibrator in a Tesco carrier bag. I nearly bleedin’ died.’
    ‘Oh my God. What did you say?’
    ‘I said thanks, and I hoped she got some relief soon.’
    I snorted. ‘Poor you, and poor Charlie. Was she in trouble?’
    ‘Nah. She was only trying to help. Wasn’t as bad as the time charity collectors knocked on the door asking for donations for the sick children in Africa.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘I was in the shower but Charlie decided to give them one of my plants. “These are herbs that make you get happy. Give them to the children,” she told them, as she handed over me home-grown cannabis.’
    ‘Lexie! You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested.’ I can’t help laughing. The air doesn’t feel quite so thick now.
    ‘I don’t think they knew what it was. They told Charlie they just wanted money. “Oh we never have any bleedin’ cash in this house,” she told them. She must have been about five.’
    ‘I can’t imagine her being small. Do you have any photos?’
    ‘A few. I’ll show you later if you like.’
    ‘Yes, please.’ I imagine Charlie at five, pigtailed and fearless. I’ll never forget the way she stood up for me the first time we met.
    ‘Grace, I owe you a big apology…’ Lexie tails off.
    I smooth creases from summer dresses, fold winter jumpers. Clothes for seasons Charlie will never see again. ‘The funeral was stressful. You don’t have to apologise.’
    ‘It’s not just the funeral.’ There is the flick of the lighter, a waft of smoke. ‘It’s complicated…’
    ‘We don’t need to talk about it today.’ I pull the last thing out of the drawer. ‘These were yours once, remember?’ I hold up tiny white denim shorts.
    ‘I loved those jeans. Little madam.’
    I place them with the things I’m setting aside for Lexie.
    The drawers are empty. I stand and brush my knees, and open Charlie’s jewellery box. Tinkling music spills out as a pink-tutued ballerina twirls incessant pirouettes.
    The other half of my heart necklace lays inside the red velvet lined case. I lift it out. It spins around, just as mine did in the woods, as if searching for its missing partner.
    ‘You should have that,’ Lexie says. ‘She was wearing it that day. She’d want you to have it.’
    I nod, too choked up to speak. I unclasp my chain and slide on Charlie’s half-heart until it nestles against mine, not exactly fitting together: a broken heart that will never quite be whole again.
    We work in silence until the moon rises, casting a creamy glow on rows of black sacks lined up like soldiers against the grubby walls.
    ‘I’ll drop these off at the charity shop on Monday.’ I heft a bin bag over my left shoulder and carry one in my right hand. I feel like Santa Claus as I inch down the stairs, careful not to slip. I fold the back seats in my car down and somehow cram Charlie’s entire life into my boot, except for the sack of bits I think Lexie might wear. That, I tuck inside her wardrobe.
    I say goodbye to Charlie’s bedroom. Faded outlines of posters and the sticky remains of Blu-Tack are the only visible signs of a life that once was. How quickly we can erase someone’s physical presence, while their memory forever lingers. I flick off the light and join Lexie downstairs.
    ‘Drink?’
    ‘Please.’
    I sit on the cracked leather sofa, tucking my feet under me, and sip from a glass of Merlot. I wait for the sharpness of the alcohol to soothe my anxiety. I’m going to take this opportunity to ask about Charlie’s dad. I have to get this right. This is my chance to get a name, an address even.
    ‘I had my first glass of red wine here,’ I tell Lexie. ‘Charlie told me it was blood and dared me to drink it. I cried when I got home. Told Grandad I’d turned into a vampire.’
    ‘She was a little bugger, Charlie was,’ Lexie says fondly.
    ‘Can you show me those baby photos?’ My tone is casual but my heart