The Diamond Family

Part 3 of our family serial

LLizzie

izzie realised she was holding onto her mobile so tightly her fingers were hurting. “My sister,” she breathed. “Oh my goodness, I’ve wanted to meet you for ever!”

“Me too,” Charlotte said. She sounded slightly croaky now and less posh which Lizzie was relieved about.

The next few minutes were some of the most emotional of Lizzie’s life. She couldn’t believe that after all of these years she was finally talking to her sister.

The brilliant thing was that Charlotte was clearly as excited as she was. She tripped over her words in an effort to get it all out. It turned out Charlotte had been looking for her too but had thought she lived in New Zealand with their father.

“No, the irresponsible beggar abandoned my mother without a penny of maintenance,” Lizzie told her. “Although he did buy me a My Little Pony for my eleventh birthday. Slightly inappropriate – I’d grown out of them when I was nine!”

“That’s more than he ever got me. Not that my mother would have let him in the house anyway. He tried to visit once when I was about seven.”

“I think he went to New Zealand when I was tiny,” Lizzie told her. “My mum reckons he came back once. He must have visited us at the same time.”

Slowly they joined the dots and concluded that was exactly what had happened. The dates tied up perfectly.

“I wonder where he’s living now?” Lizzie mused.

“We could probably find out if we tried,” Charlotte said. “But frankly I’d rather meet you than him.”

“Same here. Shall we do it, then? Where do you live?”

It was even more of a shock to discover Charlotte lived in Bournemouth and only about five miles away.

Five miles in distance but a million miles in area, Lizzie thought. Charlotte was on the posh side of town. Talk about sisters on different sides of the tracks!

What if they didn’t have anything in common? What if they didn’t actually get on? Lizzie pushed that thought aside and glanced at her watch. She was stunned to discover that two hours had flown past.

“Shall we arrange a meeting?” Charlotte was asking. “A lunch perhaps? We have so much to catch up on.”

They fixed a date for the following Friday, which thanks to Lizzie’s workload was the first day she wasn’t doing a shift that would interfere.

“The Fox is a great place to eat,” Charlotte had suggested, once again highlighting the social differences between them.

The Fox was an upmarket bistro pub where the cheapest thing on the menu was eight quid – and that was just a starter. Lizzie had only ever been there on very special occasions. She’d suppressed a gasp before agreeing to The Fox anyway.

She was meeting her sister. That was a special occasion. It was definitely worth living on beans on toast for a week.

WCharlotte

hen Charlotte disconnected she felt so emotional she wanted to cry. Lizzie had sounded absolutely lovely. Warm and bubbly and hugely curious to know everything about her.

It was exactly what Charlotte had dreamed of. Better. She felt as high as though she’d won the lottery, gone on the Orient Express and met the man of her dreams to boot. Although meeting her sister was actually much better than meeting the man of her dreams because sisters were for life.

At least she hoped that would be the case. OK, so there were lots of things they didn’t have in common. Lizzie hadn’t gone to a private school. She didn’t run her own business and she clearly wasn’t wealthy. But none of that mattered.

For the rest of the week Charlotte felt as though she was walking on air. As usual she worked flat out, but every time she stopped for a breather the thought of meeting her sister crept into her head and made her feel warm and rosy.

Her only slight misgiving was that she hadn’t yet told her mother. This was because she knew Mum wouldn’t approve. She’d be full of dire warnings which would be sensible but negative: Don’tgetyourhopesup.She’sboundto beverydifferent.Shemaynotlikeyou.

Charlotte didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to be put off. She carried her secret around with her like a snuggly hot water bottle clutched close to her heart. Then suddenly, Friday was here.

For the first time she could remember Charlotte overslept – which meant she woke up just after seven from a dream in which she was having a birthday party full of people and her sister had just given her a My Little Pony!

Goodness knows what a therapist would make of that, she thought, as she jumped out of bed, fed Simon and calmed herself down by working.

The morning dragged and she couldn’t concentrate. So she gave up work and decided to get ready. What should she wear? What did a person wear to meet their thirty-seven year old sister for the first time ever?

At 11.15 she got a text from Lizzie… Whatareyouwearing?Areyougetting poshedup?I’mwearingmybrownjeans andanorangetop.

Charlotte felt warmed. Lizzie was obviously as anxious as she was about making a good impression.

I’mwearingblackjeansandamustard jacket she texted back.

At 12.45, early as usual, Charlotte drew into the carpark of The Fox. She wondered if Lizzie was here yet. They hadn’t swapped details of their cars. A swift scan of the carpark revealed no other women sitting nervously in a driver’s seat.

She locked the Lexus and headed for the bar entrance. Just for fun she had booked a table under the name of Diamond. It seemed fitting, because even though neither she nor Lizzie still used the

Charlotte worried that Lizzie had backed out, but what if it was worse and she’d been in an accident?

name, it was what joined them together.

The table she was shown to by an efficient waiter was at the end of the narrow restaurant, which meant she’d have a very good view of anyone walking in.

The minutes ticked past. The restaurant was filling up fast. It was the kind of place that was always busy, even on a Friday. It was the best gastro pub in the area, and the chef was sublime. Delicious smells wafted out each time a waiter emerged from the kitchen.

Every time someone came in Charlotte craned her neck while trying not to stare, but there was no sign of a woman with dark hair, wearing an orange top. At 1.10 she started to worry. What if Lizzie had changed her mind? She’d sounded taken aback when Charlotte had mentioned the Fox. A horrible thought struck her – what if Lizzie had backed out because it was expensive? Maybe she should have suggested somewhere cheaper, but she hadn’t because she had wanted to treat her sister, having already decided that she was going to pay.

By 1.15, she was convinced this was the case. But what if – heaven forbid – something worse had happened? Perhaps she’d been involved in an accident. It would be absolutely awful if they got this close and then never met after all.

The sense of joyous excitement she’d felt all week began to dissipate.

By 1.20 when Lizzie still hadn’t arrived, she was seriously worried. She hooked her phone out of her bag, even though she knew it hadn’t buzzed. It was connected to her Apple watch and there had been no notifications. Only then, did she realise there was no signal. The Fox must be in a dead spot. So even if Lizzie had tried to phone she wouldn’t have got through.

Abandoning the table she raced into the carpark and a flurry of notifications lit up her phone screen. Lizzie’s car had broken down. She had managed to limp into a petrol station about a mile away where she was waiting for The RAC.

Charlotte phoned and Lizzie answered immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” Lizzie sounded tearful. “I was worried you’d think I was chickening out, but I’m not. Honest.”

“It’s OK. Truly. I only just got your messages. Bad signal area. Why don’t I come to you? Then we can wait for The RAC together.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you in ten.” Charlotte ran back into The Fox, cancelled the table, apologising profusely and set off to the petrol station.

Lizzie

Lizzie’s relief at making contact was overwhelming. Even though it was slightly intimidating to see the top of the range red Lexus pulling into the petrol station just under ten minutes later. Oh heck, Charlotte was even posher than she’d thought – and she’d just gone and bought her a Meal Deal when she’d been expecting a posh lunch in The Fox. How mortifying was that!

But the woman who got out of the car was smiling widely. Lizzie walked across the diesel scented forecourt and the next moment they were standing beneath the neon flashing sign.

“It’s so amazing to meet you.” Lizzie said as she blinked back tears.

“It’s so amazing to meet you too.” Charlotte’s accent didn’t sound so plummy, face-to-face. “I know this isn’t what we intended. But we’re never going to forget the first time we met, are we?”

“I’d never forget it anyway,” Lizzie breathed, “Shall we hug?”

Now she could see Charlotte was just as emotional as she was, her eyes brimming bright with emotion.

“A hug sounds perfect,” Charlotte’s voice broke slightly as, much to the surprise of a passing truck driver, they stepped into each other’s arms.

They sat in Lizzie’s car to eat the meal deal. Charlotte tried to pay for her share, but Lizzie refused.

“Don’t be mad. You’re my sister.” She smiled. It felt so great to say that.

“In that case our next lunch is on me,” Charlotte said. “Presuming we have another lunch.”

“What? You mean you don’t think we’re going to get on?” Lizzie said. “I think we probably are.”

And she was right. She quickly discovered that Charlotte was more reserved than she was but had a wicked sense of humour. The time whizzed by as they compared notes and took selfies with their heads close together.

“We look alike, don’t we?” Lizzie said, as they both gazed at the photos.

It was true. They had the same dark eyes and narrow noses and freckles – were they genetic? Different mouths – Charlotte’s was more cupid shaped, but it was clear they were sisters.

They also discovered they were

both huge fans of Italian food, hated celery, loved marmite, and that apple and blackberry crumble was their favourite dessert.

“What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?” Charlotte asked when The RAC truck rolled in two hours later. “Do you fancy coming over tomorrow night? I could cook us a pizza.”

“That sounds amazing. I can bring an apple and blackberry crumble.” Presuming my car’s fixed. If it’s not you can come to mine.”

“Perfect,” Charlotte agreed.

Lizzie spent the rest of Friday on a high. She’d been apprehensive about telling Adam but she needn’t have worried.

“So that means I’ve got a new auntie, right?” he said when they spoke.

“It sure does. And she’s really nice. Are you sure you’re OK with it?”

“Yeah I’m cool. It’s not as though I didn’t know she existed.” Lizzie had told him long ago that she thought she had a long lost sister somewhere.

“I’ll look forward to meeting her,” Adam said.

“And Uni’s OK?” she asked him.

“Yeah. Er…”

“What?” she said, her ‘worried mum radar’ on full alert.

“The course is hard. Like I expected.” “But it’s early days, love.”

“That’s what Dad said. Don’t worry. I’m giving it my best shot. The social side’s great.”

“Good.” She was relieved to hear Dave was encouraging him too. He’d obviously listened when she’d phoned him, saying, “Please don’t put our son off university.”

“I’m not,” he’d said. “I just want him to be happy.”

“Then stop discouraging him.”

Dave had sighed and apologised. Clearly he’d taken her lecture to heart.

It was also a relief that her car had an electrical fault, caused by a loose wire and it hadn’t been expensive to fix.

On Saturday night, armed with a blackberry and apple crumble Lizzie pulled into Charlotte’s drive behind her Lexus. Gosh, it was a lovely place. On a tree lined road, red bricked and modern with a porch and a bush of yellow scented roses alongside it. It was lovely inside too. Charlotte was clearly proud of her country farmhouse kitchen, walk in shower, and gorgeous office.

“I’ve been lucky that my business has done well,” Charlotte said, “Being a workaholic helps. I probably work sixty hours a week. And I’ve a huge mortgage.”

Lizzie nodded, watching her sister bend to stroke a Siamese cat that twined around her ankles.

“But I’d swap all the trappings of success for a proper family,” Charlotte quickly added. “There’s only me and Mum. My grandparents live in Scotland. And it’s hard to meet a man when I sit in an office twenty-four-seven.”

Lizzie heard the wistfulness in her voice. “At least you’ve got a sister and a nephew now,” she said softly, loving the way Charlotte’s face lit up.

They’d almost finished their first bottle of wine – Lizzie was staying over – when the subject of online dating came up.

“I would have thought you’d have tried that – what with you being a computer whizz kid and all,” Lizzie questioned.

“I wouldn’t have the nerve. I don’t mind talking to clients online but men are a different matter. I’m really quite shy. It took me twenty-four hours to pluck up the courage to ring you!”

They were halfway down their second bottle of wine when Lizzie suggested she help Charlotte do a profile for a dating site. “It would be fun. And as you said you won’t meet anyone sitting in an office. Well, not unless it’s on a computer.”

“Well… how about we both do it?” Charlotte suggested. “Now that would be fun. Not to mention a wonderful sisterly bonding exercise.”

It was probably the wine but it did seem like a rather brilliant idea.

An hour later, Lizzie had come up with two snappy profiles which made them laugh, and Charlotte uploaded them with photos before they could change their minds and chicken out.

“If nothing else,” Lizzie announced, raising her glass in a toast, “I will bring you luck.”

Lizzie was on her way home the next day when her phone pinged with a message from the dating site. Charlotte had shown her how to put the app on her phone too. She wasn’t expecting to meet anyone. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to. But if nothing else, she would get to grips with the technology. And it had been a sisterly bonding exercise. They had laughed till they ached last night.

When she checked, she saw she had a message from someone called Harry Peterson, a 38 year old entrepreneur from Poole. He looked pretty hot too!

She made a mental note to tell Charlotte about it next time they spoke. How exciting!

BCharlotte

ack in her office, Charlotte was feeling slightly hungover but happy. Last night had been better than any of her wildest dreams.

They’d had a brilliant evening. Lizzie had been funny, warm and apparently up for anything.

She was far more courageous than Charlotte had ever been. She knew she’d never had dipped a toe in the online dating pool if Lizzie hadn’t done it too.

At lunchtime when Charlotte checked her phone she found a thank you message from Lizzie that began with the words, HeySis and ended with a row of kisses.

She felt warmed to the core. Just as she was about to reply her phone pinged with a notification from the dating site.

Wow, she had a message already. Curiously she clicked on it and found herself looking at a dark haired guy with a nice smile. He was an entrepreneur like her. Synchronicity. His name was Harry Peterson. It looked as though Lizzie was bringing her luck already.

NEXT WEEK: Will Charlotte and Lizzie find love? Can there possibly be two men named Harry Peterson? Find out the answers and more next week in our fabulous family serial…

Charlotte had never had the courage for online dating, but Lizzie was up for it!