In Her Head
Katie lived in her house and Grace lived in her head. Like chalk and brie the sisters were.
Katie fine-combed fabric shops until she found turquoise cloth flecked with silver and gold, perfect for drapes by the patio door. Grace mined the rooms of her mind for memories, or fast forwarded to future calamities.
Katie set tulips in September, let soil fall through her fingers, breathed in peat moss, anticipated Spring. Grace grew doubts: about the direction her life was taking, about who she was, about why she was here.
Katie baked cupcakes, covering them with shocking pink icing. Grace ruminated, holed up in her airless room.
The sisters met up less and less, though they only lived two miles apart. Katie’s phone calls went unanswered.
One day Grace told her boss he was an arrogant bastard, and retreated from the ebb and flow of life to ponder her new unemployable status. She ordered her groceries online — tins of tuna and frozen veg and crackers. From her vantage point inside the window she saw neighbours mow their lawns, wash their cars, walk their dogs. She wondered how she had become this skilled at languishing.
Katie flourished. Her circle of friends expanded each time she took up a new activity — badminton, Italian conversation, film club. The social whirl did not affect her professional prowess. She rose up through the ranks of the company, having thirteen people report to her, a number unlucky for some, but not for Katie.
And so life went on… or didn’t go on.
When the tulips had bloomed for the fifth time, Katie received a call from the hospital. Grace had named her as next of kin. No, her sister wasn’t seriously ill, merely malnourished and dehydrated. Katie said she would come straight away.
Grace said she didn’t want interference from anybody. Time had simply passed unknown to her, and she had forgotten to eat. The neighbours had no business getting the Guards to break in. Just because she hadn’t opened the curtains in a while. She told her sister she was fine and discharged herself without delay. When she went outside to hail a taxi the fresh air intoxicated her and droplets of soft rain sprayed her face.
Katie fretted. If this had been work she would have taken charge of the situation, drawn up a list of possible solutions, brainstormed. But this was her sister, a woman on a wavelength all of her own.
Following her sojourn amongst the sick and the soon-to-die, Grace suddenly realised how tatty the furnishings in her house had become. She planned a trip to town the next day to buy new cushions in shades of rust and cream, and some matching coasters for the coffee table.
Insomnia overtook Katie. She worried about her sister. She worried about herself. After making a poor decision at work, she was asked to take gardening leave.
Katie and Grace — two sisters, living two miles apart, like chalk and brie.
If you liked this piece, please click on the heart. Thank you!
