Master Of Maramba

“Then Mum has a lot to answer for.” Carrie felt her own temper rise.

“You hate her, don’t you? You hate me,” Melissa insisted, dragging at her curls roughly.

“Mel, that’s so unfair.” Carrie put her hand on her stepsister’s arm, grateful Melissa didn’t shake it off. “That’s some dreadful propaganda Glenda has fed you. It desperately hurt me to hear you say that. Glenda and I might never get on, but I wouldn’t like to lose you. We’re blood.” She could feel Melissa trembling.

“How dare you!” a voice shouted from the door. Glenda dressed to the nines was standing there quivering with outrage.

“For what it’s worth,” she fixed her greenish eyes on Carrie, “I’m your stepmother. I’ve looked after you and looked after you well for all these years, you ungrateful creature. Now you try to turn Melissa against me.”

“Oh, please, Mum, don’t start,” Melissa wailed, her eyes filling with tears.

“Look how you’ve upset her,” Glenda accused.

Carrie took a deep breath. “Why don’t you stop right now, Glenda,” she said. “I’m having a bad enough time without your starting.”

“Is it pity you want?” Glenda demanded, her expression distorted.

‘Understanding might say it,” Carrie answered briefly.

“You think yourself so extraordinary,” Glenda said. “Anyone would think you were the only one who has ever suffered a setback. Between ourselves I’ve had a lot to contend with.”

“You’ve never had talent like Carrie’s,” Melissa burst out unexpectedly. “I’ve never heard her big noting herself, either.”

Glenda’s impeccably made-up face drained of colour. She looked at her daughter as though she couldn’t understand what she was saying. “Excuse me, Melissa, haven’t I heard you endlessly complaining about Carrie’s airs and graces?”

Melissa’s reaction was even more unexpected. “Maybe I’m just jealous,” she said. “I’d give anything to get covered in glory. To be lovely. Just a tiny bit like Carrie. To see Dad’s eyes light up. To feel his pride in me. I’d have given anything to be Dad’s perfect little girl. Ah, hell….” Melissa couldn’t bear it any longer. She broke into sobs, trying to flee the room but Glenda stopped her forcibly, grabbing her wrists.

“My darling, don’t you ever put yourself down. Your father adores you.”

“Like hell he does, Mum. Beside Carrie I’m pathetic. A failure. I couldn’t even get a place at uni. Dad was so disappointed in me.”

“Ah, don’t, Mel. Please don’t.” Carrie was deeply affected; answering tears sprang to her eyes. “What’s so important about going to university? You’ll find something you love doing.”

“Then tell me what it is.” Melissa was back to shouting. “I can’t do a damn thing. I’m stupid. We all know that.”

“You haven’t begun to find yourself,” Carrie said. “You have to try things, Mel. You’re the best cook in the house.”

“I beg your pardon.” Glenda, who took particular pride in her culinary skills, looked affronted.

“Why not train to be a chef?” Carrie suggested. “You have a real way with food and food preparation. The way you’re always experimenting and making new dishes.”

“A chef!” Glenda looked totally taken aback though she couldn’t deny Melissa was very good. “What nonsense you talk. Mel is able to turn out an excellent meal—perhaps a touch too exotic. I don’t want her spending her time hanging around restaurants.”

“She has to train first.”

Melissa looked astonished. “Why not?”

“Oh, please!” Glenda shook all over in disgust. “Your father is a rich man, Melissa. Come to that, you don’t have to work at all. You can help me.”

“How? Chauffeur you around all day?” Melissa looked over at Carrie and actually smiled at her. “Do you think I could become a chef?”

“Of course I do,” Carrie said briskly. “I’m greatly surprised you haven’t thought of it before.”

“Now look here, Carrie,” Glenda began a shade helplessly. “Don’t go putting foolish ideas into Melissa’s head.”

“It’s quite an attractive idea,” said Melissa, now oddly calm.

“My God!” Glenda held her head. “I want you out of here, Carrie,” she said harshly. “I don’t care how you do it—what you say to your father—I want you out. You’ve disrupted my home long enough.”

Even Melissa flinched. “Mum don’t!”

“That’s all right.” Carrie looked at Melissa reassuringly. “In lots of ways it will be better if I go.”

“Not when you’re being ordered out,” Melissa said. “That’s dreadful.”

“Keep out of this, Melissa,” her mother warned sharply, her expression furious. “Do you think because Carrie has suggested a job for you it’s going to make things better? You girls have had a very spiky relationship for years. You want your father’s attention? You’ll get more of it with Carrie gone.”

“Well, maybe…” Melissa looked confused.

“So that’s settled,” Carrie said, trying to absorb the blows. “I’ll speak to Dad then I’ll set about finding a place of my own.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a lot happier in it, Carrie,” Glenda said in a much gentler tone, though the expression on her face was almost exultant. “You must realise how I’ve tried, I’ve…” She broke off, diverted by the sound of the front door chimes. “That must be the florist,” she murmured, looking a whole lot brighter. “I’ve ordered a new arrangement for the entrance hall. Leave your sister now, Melissa, and come downstairs. I’m sure Carrie has lots to think about.”

Carrie felt cut to the bone. Hot tears welled but she fought them back. She’d done enough crying in her pillow. It was time to rise above it. A few moments later Melissa rushed back into the room, appearing surprised, but very pleasantly so. “Carrie, there’s someone downstairs who wants to see you. The best-looking guy I’ve ever seen in my life. You’ve gotta come clean.”

“About what, then? Who is it?” Carrie turned away; quickly brushing a few unshed tears off her eyelashes.

“Says his name is Royce McQuillan. Got a great voice. Real cool.”

“You’re joking?” But Carrie knew that she wasn’t.

“Mum offered him something but he didn’t want it. They’re in the living room talking. Mum seems to be enjoying it. She loves the tall dark handsome types.”

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Carrie said, walking through to the adjoining bathroom to run a comb through her hair, but mostly to check the sign of tears didn’t show.

They did. Or she thought they did, she was so emotional.

“You don’t have to touch anything,” Melissa said, following her into the en suite. “You’re perfect. You’ve got this incredible skin. Why haven’t I? You never have a breakout. It’s not fair.”

“We both know you have very good skin, too, Mel. And big hazel eyes. I don’t have a curl in sight.”

“Curls aren’t special,” said Melissa.

Glenda and Royce McQuillan were seated in the living room, apparently enjoying a pleasant conversation. “Oh, there you are, dear.” Effortlessly Glenda assumed a fond voice. But then she’d had so much practice. “You have a visitor.”

Royce McQuillan stood up, unbearably handsome and physical. Giving her that coolly sexy smile. “Catrina, it’s wonderful to see you. I just happened to be in the area.”

“How nice of you to call in.” She marvelled her own voice rippled with pleasure.