The Secrets Between Sisters. Annie Lyons
had forgotten their manners. ‘Now what do we say?’ Bea would coo as if addressing a four-year-old. She usually received a frown for her troubles but generally improved customer service. Lizzie was not like her sister. She avoided conflict wherever possible and didn’t have the confidence to set people straight, which is why she always left the coffee shop feeling hot and distinctly bothered. Maybe she had the spirit of her sister in her today, because something made her decide that she was ready for him. She breezed in through the cafe door with a look of what she hoped was calm indifference on her face. She stopped in her tracks as she was confronted with a woman; tall, slender and beautiful, her caramel-coloured hair piled casually in a loose bun secured with a pen. Obviously this was the cafe owner’s other half. She smiled warmly at Lizzie, who was so shocked by both her presence and the fact that she was friendly, she forgot how to speak.
‘What can I get you?’ asked the woman with beaming encouragement.
‘Erm, cheesecake. I would like cheesecake please,’ said Lizzie sounding like a robot.
The woman nodded and peered into the chiller-cabinet, frowning when she spotted the empty plate covered only with the last sad few biscuit-base crumbs. She smiled up at Lizzie. ‘Hang on, I’ll just see if Ben’s made any more.’ Ben. So that was his name. The woman disappeared into the kitchen. Lizzie could hear her asking him questions and getting mainly grunts in return. She heard her say, ‘Okay, thank you Ben, no need to be such a grumpy bugger,’ before reappearing out front.
‘I’m so sorry. We’ve run out for today. Can I recommend the Millionaire’s Shortbread? It’s very good.’
Lizzie nodded in agreement. ‘Two pieces please.’
The woman smiled and gestured back towards the kitchen. ‘He’s like a bear with a sore wotsit that one. So I’ve been drafted in to help because he was scaring off the customers.’
Lizzie gave a shy smile. She held out her money, keen to finish the transaction.
‘You work in the bookshop, don’t you?’ said the woman as she handed over the cakes and change.
Lizzie nodded. There was something very warm and open about this woman, something that Lizzie liked. ‘I’m Lizzie,’ she replied.
The woman grinned. ‘Lovely to meet you, Lizzie. I’m Susie.’
‘Susie!’ bellowed a voice from the kitchen. The voice’s owner appeared at the door seconds later, a sharp frown clouding his face.
‘The bear’s woken up,’ she whispered to Lizzie with a wink. ‘Ben, this is Lizzie from the bookshop.’
Ben glanced over at Lizzie, his face still fixed in a frown. He gave her a curt nod. ‘All right?’ he said before turning back to Susie. ‘Where did you put the flour?’ he demanded.
Susie shook her head. ‘Sorry about him. He’s had a personality transplant and has sadly been replaced by THE RUDEST MAN IN BRITAIN,’ she declared, emphasising her words and looking at Ben with meaning.
Ben was unmoved. ‘The flour, Susie?’
Susie gave him a murderous look before smiling warmly at Lizzie. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go but it was lovely to meet you, Lizzie. See you around?’
‘Okay. Bye,’ said Lizzie. She glanced at Ben before she turned to leave and made a mental note only to come in here when Susie was serving. That man had issues.
As she walked back through the door of the bookshop, she noticed that Mrs Nussbaum wasn’t sitting in her usual spot on the stool behind the till. She could hear voices coming from the children’s section. She smiled as she spotted Mrs Nussbaum sitting on a red plastic child’s chair next to a little boy of about five years.
‘Do you like being old?’ the boy was asking.
Mrs Nussbaum chuckled at his directness. ‘I don’t mind. I wish my body worked better sometimes.’
‘You could get a new one,’ he suggested earnestly.
‘Wouldn’t that be nice?’ she smiled.
‘I could make you one out of Lego.’
‘That would be kind, er, what did you say your name was?’
‘Harry.’
‘Danke, Harry.’
‘What does “danke” mean?’
‘Thank you. In German.’
‘Are you scared of dying?’ asked Harry, ready to move on to a different topic.
Lizzie held her breath but Mrs Nussbaum wasn’t fazed. ‘Not really. I think it will be nice to be with my Leonard again.’
‘Who’s Leonard?’
‘My husband. He died.’
‘Oh. So do you believe in heaven?’
‘Yes Harry, I do.’
‘My dad doesn’t,’ he said pursing his lips.
‘Oh, well what do you think?’
‘I think I want there to be heaven.’
‘Then believe it,’ said Mrs Nussbaum. Lizzie appeared before them and Mrs Nussbaum smiled up at her. ‘Now this lady was sent to me by my Leonard.’
Harry stared up at Lizzie, impressed. ‘Whoa. Is she like an angel then?’
‘I like to think so,’ said Mrs Nussbaum with a grin.
Lizzie remembered the circumstances of her arrival as slightly less celestial. She came here after yet another failed relationship, which made her throw her belongings into a bag and jump on the first train that pulled into the station. As she reached the end of the line, the dawning realisation that she was now barely an hour away from where she had grown up made her sick with anxiety. Her first instinct was to get straight back on the train and head somewhere else. But something in her brain wouldn’t allow her. She had spoken to Bea the previous week and was concerned that her sister didn’t sound as upbeat as usual.
‘Is everything all right?’ she had asked.
Bea had sighed. ‘I’ve got to go and have some tests. I’m sure everything is fine.’
‘What kind of tests?’
‘Just tests. Anyway, how are things with you and that useless boyfriend of yours?’
‘He’s not useless.’
‘He’s lazy. Do you need any money?’
It was the thought of living closer to her sister that made her walk up to the high street and it was the sudden rain shower which made her shelter in the bookshop. And it was her choice of Brave New World which made a frowning Mrs Nussbaum approach her.
‘That book,’ said the woman.
‘Yes?’ replied Lizzie patiently.
‘Why did you choose that book?’ she demanded.
Lizzie wondered if the woman might be a little mad but she was intrigued by her question. ‘Erm, well it’s one of my favourites and I haven’t read it for a while so I was just having a look?’
The woman gazed deeply into Lizzie’s eyes, almost as if she was trying to read her thoughts. Yep, thought Lizzie, definitely batty.
The woman stood back, a bright smile transforming her face. ‘Would you like to come and work for me?’ she asked.
That had been two years ago. It turned out that she had got the job because of her choice of book which also turned out to be the favourite novel of Mrs Nussbaum’s recently deceased husband, Leonard. Mrs Nussbaum was also keen to employ someone who would live in the flat-come-storage area above the shop and Lizzie was happy to oblige. The only person who knew of Lizzie’s whereabouts had been Bea.
‘I’m