The Sister Surprise by Abigail Mann (book series for 10 year olds .txt) 📕

a hand and jigs on the spot, jumping back and forth over a rake on the floor.

‘Aye, and you won’t let us forget it,’ says Kian.

As I look at Moira, her body angled towards Kian, I see an opportunity to help out a little. I’m sure that Kian has a soft spot for Moira, but if he claims that he’s got no time for a girlfriend ‘until the farm’s sorted’, they’ll both be dancing round each other until the fields learn to plough themselves.

‘Hey, give us a demonstration, would you? Then I can turn up at the ceilidh without being identified as so cripplingly English that I can barely put one foot in front of the other without apologising to someone.’

‘Ah, I don’t know,’ says Kian.

‘Oh, come on. You’re not a bad mover, Ki,’ Moira tells him.

‘There’s no music.’

‘I’ve got it, don’t worry,’ I say, slapping a dull beat onto the side of a bucket.

‘A basic hold: left hand by your side, right hand crosses over my front, then I link in at the back,’ says Moira. They face the same way, arms interlocked. Moira can’t see him, but I notice the silly grin on Kian’s face as he looks down at her, unblinking.

‘What do we do now, hop forward four times?’

‘I don’t want to kick the chickens,’ says Moira.

‘They’ll move,’ says Kian. They skip forwards and back, scattering the seed we threw down for the hens moments before.

‘Then you spin.’ Moira pirouettes like a ballerina, her wax jacket flapping as she goes. ‘Hook arms, and you’re on your way with someone new.’

Kian grins whilst Moira bounces from one foot to the other.

‘God, I love a ceilidh. I’m mad buzzing for it. It’s been way too long.’

‘How does the partnering work? Do you have to write people’s names down? Book them out?’ I say, excitement stretching up through my chest like a cat clawing a scratch pole.

‘No, it’s really casual. Chaotic-casual,’ says Moira, zipping her coat up. ‘But Kian always saves me the first waltz.’ Moira smiles at Kian, who raises his eyebrows in admission. ‘After that you end up swapping all the time, anyway.’

It’s got to be tonight. If Moira’s buoyed up about the ceilidh, I’ll be able to tell her that we’re sisters without it being awkwardly intense. I want it to be good news, the kind that deserves a celebration. What’s better than a torrent of foot stamping and ale swigging? Doing it with your sister, for sure.

Once Moira knows, I might finally have the courage to talk to Mum about her time in Kilroch like we’re actual adults. I won’t have to decode Rory’s bizarre postcards in secret anymore. My butchered Snooper diaries? That one I’ve yet to figure out. Baby steps, Ava, baby steps.

***

‘Why can’t you go in your trainers?’ says Kian. I step back out of my room and throw a look down the corridor. Kian stops chewing his toast quite so aggressively. ‘That wasn’t the right thing to say, was it?’

I groan and look down at the crumpled clothes draped over my arm. ‘If I wear any of these I’ll look like bad origami.’

‘As soon as your body gets warm it’ll work out the creases,’ says Kian, grinning through a mouthful of toast.

‘I’m sure that’s not a thing.’

‘It’s like ironing, but from the inside out.’

‘As helpful as you are, this is why Moira should be here.’

‘Weren’t you guys going to do girly stuff before we left? Drink cocktails and gossip?’

‘Yeah. Not got much time for it now. It’s weird for her to turn up so late, isn’t it?’ I say, tapping the bannister. ‘Have you had any texts from her?’

‘Nope. I’ve not had a dot of signal all day.’

‘No, me neither,’ I say, holding my phone aloft. ‘Do you think she’s OK?’

‘Oh, aye. Moira’s fierce independent. That’s no strange.’

‘Hmm. Do you think we should check the animals are safe before heading off? Jacqui said we need to turn the sheep out onto the upper paddock before it gets bogged up.’

‘I was planning on it, but there’s no point doing it tonight. It means taking them onto the road and it’s too dark for it,’ says Kian, ducking down to look at the sky through a narrow window at the top of the stairs. I scrape a hand through my hair and frown.

‘I’m going to check that the coop isn’t leaking,’ I say.

‘It’s fine. I put some tarp over it.’

‘Babs won’t forgive me if I let her nest get wet.’

‘You’ve changed your tune.’

‘She knows what she wants and she wants what she knows. That’s quite admirable.’

Kian rips off another mouthful of toast and yawns, his arms juddering. Inside the bedroom I’ve occupied for nearly a month, I empty my suitcase on the floor. It’s stuffed with newly washed socks and half a tub of Nutella that I’ve been eating by the tablespoon each night before I go to sleep. I’ve got to have packed something that’ll do for a night out in the church hall.

Rolled up beside a handful of loose tampons is a mustard-coloured jumpsuit, which, although inappropriate for the rollicking wind and rain outside, is the only thing I have that I can confidently say is free from straw and faeces. I lay my outfit on the bed and place a belt and earrings beside it in a flatpack version of myself. It’ll have to do.

***

‘Where do you think she is?’ I ask, zipping up my raincoat. Outside, rain lashes the windows in gusts so violent it’s like a caricature of terrible weather.

‘I dunno. She might have gone straight there with Jacqui. Ha’ you seen outside?’ he says, pulling on his mud-streaked work boots. ‘Would you want to walk over in this?’

I shake my head and check my phone again, if only out of habit. ‘And you’re sure the animals are fine? We don’t need a sheep floating in the brook when they come to do the survey tomorrow.’

‘Ava, dinna fash yersel’.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Sorry, English translation: stop worrying.’

Chapter 31

‘Oh, aye! Is that