I start with some blusher, building it slowly on the puff and rubbing it into my cheeks. Is this what April does? Why didn't I pay more attention to her exact technique before?
I'm pretty certain I have the right pout when I apply some lipstick. However, I find my hand unsteady and wavering when it comes down to it and I rub it off with some tissue and start again several times. Even when I have finished it doesn't look right. The deep scarlet looks striking against the milky tone beneath my freckles.
Nerves squeeze my insides – this is taking longer than I thought. I glance at the clock and remind myself that I still have time.
Eyeliner is even more tricky than I imagined. I just can't get my hand to stay straight no matter what I do. I avoid mascara altogether. Even April complains how it clumps together, making her lashes look spidery.
At least I get my hair looking quite good. Probably because April lets me do hers for her sometimes. I'm over halfway done and just have a handful of sections to go when a voice makes me jump out of my skin.
It is April. She appears behind me in the mirror.
'What are you doing in here?'
Over my shoulder, I watch her as she slips a used note into her music box by the window. The twinkling chimes that the tiny crystal ballerina revolves to are cut short when she slams the lid down unceremoniously.
'I was just getting ready for when we go out,' I say. 'I didn't think you would mind. You are always borrowing my stuff.'
'Well I do,' she says flatly. She looks different than when she left earlier. She looks harassed. Tired. 'I need to touch up my makeup before Will gets here.'
'That's fine. I've finished with it anyway.'
'I can see that.' She gives me a patronising look, eyeing scarlet smeared tissues strewn over her dressing table. 'You need to go back to your room now.'
'Hang on a minute. I need to finish doing my hair. I can't go anywhere with it only half done.'
'Yes you can,' she says flatly, without a trace of her usual warmth. 'Put down my things and get your own. Go on – out.'
As April leans down and selects some of the same dark lipstick I have applied on myself, a glint of gold near her prominent collarbone catches the glittering sunlight still streaming in from outside.
'Hey,' I say. 'That's my necklace you are wearing.'
'What are you talking about?'
'Gran gave me that for my birthday. I don't complain when you use my things.'
'It sounds a lot like complaining now,' she says moving over to the doorway. 'You make yourself sound like a five-year-old.'
'No, I don't,' I say, failing to not sound sulky.
'Whatever,' she huffs. 'You know, Hannah, I don't think you should come out with us. Maybe you could have a little party here with Mum instead. She looks quite glammed up too.'
'What? No – I want to come with you and Will.'
She shakes her head and slips on a pair of heeled shoes. 'Me and Will don't want a little kid hanging about with us anyway.'
'Will said that?'
'He doesn't have to. As if he would want to have to buy you a ticket out of his own money. He only suggested it to be nice. He doesn't actually want you to be there.'
Now the panic rises more than before. 'Dad gives me pocket money! I could have saved up if I had known sooner. I can pay Will back for the ticket. Tell him, April!'
The doorbell rings. It can't be time yet.
'It's too late – that is Will come to pick me up.'
The heavy crimpers fall from my hand and onto the dressing table with a loud clatter. I ignore them. 'You did tell me the wrong time! I knew it!'
'Sorry, Hannah. Maybe you misunderstood me. Anyway, we have to go. I'll just tell Will you changed your mind. Don't worry about it. See you later, OK?'
I hear her dash down the stairs and the rumble of Will's voice before the front door shuts and I am left foolishly amid a cluster of April's makeup, hair half-styled. My face is fully made-up and the effect doesn't look that bad considering it is my first try. I do look different. Older, certainly.
But now tears threaten to ruin the edges of the eyeliner ...
A burning smell reaches my nose and I quickly lift the crimping gadget. They have left behind an obvious mark in the highly polished wood.
Mum will be furious when she sees. Although, I realise that she is more likely to blame April, as the device belongs to her and this is her bedroom, after all. She would be in trouble just for leaving them within my reach.
I place the hot crimpers sideways, just as they had fallen, only this time on a fresh area of wood right in the middle of the table. Now, however, I leave them longer, causing a larger and more angry-looking mark to erupt in the pristine polish.
One that April will not be able to simply ignore.
14
Glowing green fields and farmland flash by as we drive back to Little Bishopsford illuminated by the late afternoon sun. The four of us have spent the day out at Dudley Zoo and Castle and now Will drives us back. I would have liked to have stayed away longer, spent some time with Dad on neutral ground. It took me by surprise just how much I didn't want to go back to the village yet. It's not even four pm, but Dad says he has a surprise for us when we get back.
Eva seems excited. I hope she isn't too disappointed when Dad wheels out our old board games, or declares he has ordered new garden ornaments for outside; knowing him, it would be something like that.
When Will and I are seated either side of Eva on the old Chesterfield sofa in the living room, I find I am proved right. Dad enters the room with a stack of old photo albums.
I glance at Eva, expecting visible wilting that I pray Dad won't notice, but there isn't any. She seems even a little interested in Dad's offering.
Perhaps this afternoon has been good for her. I have been taken aback today by how my daughter hasn't sulked at a single thing. I would have expected her to protest that she was too old to be taken to a zoo, but she has participated placidly. She was even happy when her Granddad bought her an ice cream.
Memories spill out of the images as we turn the yellowed pages. Big, toothy grins beam out at us from miniature versions of ourselves in the pictures. April's is usually the most radiant face of them all. She can be the star of every photo with even just a small smile playing on her heart-shaped lips. I can tell all eyes are immediately drawn to her.
'She looks like she was fun to know,' Eva says simply, staring down at a picture of an April in her early twenties surrounded by backpacking friends, all young men. She is in the middle of the group and has a mischievous grin on her face, knowing eyes and a thirst for life. Her slender thumbs are slipped into the pockets of her ripped, flared jeans and her stance says she is ready to take on the world. This photo has captured forever my sister on the brink of a great adventure, no doubt about to make her mark on new territory with her friends whose names I sadly can't claim to know.
Will unwittingly catches my eye before he looks down at his hands again. I notice he keeps his distance from the album. Not wanting to look, as though afraid of what it might reveal next.
Guilt tugs at me when I think of how little Eva saw of her aunt. April sent carefully chosen gifts to her niece, very rarely bringing them in person in a fleeting visit.