The Sister: A psychological thriller with a brilliant twist you won't see coming by Louise Jensen

ready to speed up my pulse, heat my blood. I don’t know who it was and I try to ignore the thought that they’ll come back, but no matter how hard I push it away, it creeps back in.

    * * *
    T he pub is quiet . Faded striped carpet sticks to the soles of our shoes as we tramp towards a chipped wooden table in the corner. It wobbles as I rest my bag down, and I stuff beer mats under one leg to steady it. A chalkboard menu hangs behind the bar and I squint to read it.
    ‘You ready to order?’ The waitress hovers over us, pad poised, chewed biro in hand. Black ink stains the corner of her mouth. Her grubby once-white shirt strains at the buttons.
    ‘Lasagne and chips for me please.’
    ‘And a chicken salad for me,’ Anna adds
    I am aware of my thighs spread over the chair and I cover my lap with a paper napkin.
    ‘Drinks?’
    ‘Glass of wine?’ I venture.
    ‘Sod it, we deserve a bottle. White?’
    ‘Perfect.’
    ‘I’m just nipping to the loo.’
    I take the opportunity to check my phone. There are several texts from Dan, each one more frantic than the last. I reassure him that I’m fine. That Anna is lovely, not an axe-wielding murderer.
    The waitress plonks a bottle of lukewarm house white and two glasses on the table. I pour our drinks but before I can take a sip, my phone rings. It’s an unknown number again. As I say hello, the dial tone fills my ear. I glance around the pub, mute the ringtone on my phone and stuff it in my bag.
    ‘What’s the wine like?’ Anna slides back into her seat.
    I take a sip and pull a face. ‘If they don’t have any vinegar for my chips this will do nicely.’
    ‘That good, huh?’ Anna laughs.
    ‘What happened to your dad? I understand if it’s too painful to talk about.’
    ‘It’s OK. It was a long time ago.’ Anna twirls her wine glass. ‘We were going on holiday and I was so excited we were going to see the sea. Mum bought a pack of jelly babies for us to eat on the way. I loved the orange ones; I’d bite the head off and work my way down. Of course, I ate too many and began to feel sick. Mum told me to get some fresh air. I hung my head out of the window like a dog until I felt better, but then I heard buzzing. I thought a bee had flown right into my ear. I shook my head and screamed. Dad looked around to see what was wrong and that’s the last thing I remember. Apparently he veered onto the wrong side of the road and we hit another car head-on. Mum and dad died instantly.’ Anna lowers her head and I reach over the table, covering her hand with mine. ‘I was only nine. I blamed myself: if only I hadn’t eaten so many sweets; if only I hadn’t opened the window; if only I hadn’t screamed. I wish I’d just let the bee sting me.’
    ‘You lost both parents at once?’
    ‘Yeah. Little orphan Annie, that’s me. I just need your red hair and I could sing about the sun coming out tomorrow.’ She pats my hand and offers a wry smile.
    The waitress slops two plates in front of us. Yellow grease pools out of the lasagne. Anna forks salad into her mouth as I push chips around my plate.
    ‘Where did you live afterwards?’
    ‘Let’s move onto something a little more cheery, shall we? Save that tragic story for another time.’
    I gulp my wine, grateful now for the sour taste, which diverts attention from the aching sadness that threatens to overwhelm me.
    ‘What do you do?’ Anna asks.
    ‘I work in a pre-school. I love it. Do you like kids?’
    ‘No.’ Anna sloshes wine into my glass. ‘You’re lucky to do something you enjoy, though. I’m working as a secretary and I hate it.’
    ‘Why?’
    Anna’s face contorts. ‘Let’s just say I call my boss “the octopus” for good reason.’
    ‘That’s horrible. Can’t you report him?’
    ‘It’s only a small company. Another job will turn up. It’s not exactly a vocation. I didn’t grow up dreaming of taking notes for some middle-aged man while he drooled down my blouse.’
    ‘What did you want