Second Chances Read Online Free Page B

finger—’
    ‘Christ’s sake.’ I swatted at the buzzing implication. Lou was going to get the sanitised version: I wasn’t letting any skeletons out of closets; certainly not for my effortlessly competent sister. I’d even been too proud to tell her just how desperate our finances were.
    ‘We can’t all run away from our problems,’ she huffed. ‘How about a career change—I thought he was a frustrated artist? Those murals are extraordinary.’
    ‘Aha! Nail on the head. He’s going to have a shot at painting.’
    The birthday boy popped up, looking smugly moon-faced while Louisa fiddled distractedly with the strap of his dungarees.
    ‘Kit says New Zealand is beautiful,’ I ventured. ‘Like Ireland, but better weather and no relatives.’
    ‘Huh. He’s been watching too much Lord of the Rings. ’
    I sighed. ‘It’s actually me you have to blame. I was sitting in front of the computer one night, freaking out about the mortgage.’
    ‘Join the club.’
    ‘I couldn’t resist having a little peek at this recruitment agency’s website. I found five great jobs straightaway, so I started researching—Lou, it was like riding on a magic carpet! With a couple of clicks it flew me— whoosh —out of my gloomy sitting room and off to a promised land. Forests, mountains, pristine white beaches, all stunningly lovely. No traffic, no queues. People swimming with dolphins. Skiing. Surfing. Kayaking on crystal-clear rivers—hey, d’you know what their advertising slogan is?’
    Lou looked as though I’d invited her to see my gallstones.
    ‘ One hundred per cent pure ,’ I announced, with a flourish.
    She stuck out the tip of her tongue. ‘How twee. And what else did you visit on your magic hearthrug?’
    ‘The estate agent. A dream house in the hills—ten dream houses in our price range, mortgage free. Places for Kit to paint and me to keep chickens.’
    ‘Like Beatrix bloody Potter.’
    ‘And finally the government website. We’ll get visas if one of us has an essential skill and—hey, presto!—occupational therapists are on the list.’ I lifted the baby from her lap and pressed my nose to his. I was going to miss him.
    ‘Have you talked to the witch doctor?’ Lou meant our father, and she was playing her ace card. She knew the children idolised him.
    ‘I’ll do it tomorrow—and don’t you dare get in first.’
    ‘Kit’s family?’
    ‘Not yet.’
    She buttoned her shirt, lips clamped into a line. I’d known Louisa thirty-seven years; she was a three-year-old tyrant when I was born, and the only person I ever met who could stare down our mother. She really hadn’t changed in all that time, and I loved her as much as ever.
    ‘What it comes down to is that you’ve let a daydream get out of control,’ she said.
    ‘What it comes down to is that we want a different life for our children. Oh, yuck, Theo! You’re supposed to throw up on Mummy, not me.’ I set him down on the Kickers, and he thundered off.
    Handing me a bit of white muslin, Lou swayed across the kitchen in her flowery skirt. My sister is opulent, like a peony. The plumper she grows, the better she looks. I’m sure she posed for Botticelli in another incarnation. She might be his Venus, with twining tendrils of caramel hair, a slightly hooked nose and arching brows. Apparently she and I are strikingly similar— could be twins, they tell me—but I slightly resent the suggestion. Lou would never in a zillion years get into my jeans.
    Upstairs, Finn and Charlie were having a barney. Howls of rage culminated in a smash, then Charlie’s agonised wailing.
    ‘Trouble?’ asked Lou, reaching for her cigarettes. She and smoking had a love-hate relationship. She was always trying to give up.
    ‘It’s not serious; I can tell from the engine note. Anyway, Sacha’s with them.’
    Lou flicked her lighter.
    ‘Sacha’s got a new boyfriend,’ I said, hoping to distract her. ‘Did she tell you?’ She shook her head sulkily, but I