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Chapter Four “What are you up to, Justin?” Jasmine asked, striding into the bedroom, knowing to close the door behind her if that was how it had been when she’d found it. She approached the desk and Justin quickly closed the notepad. He didn’t smile to cover his secrecy, or show any embarrassment at so obviously being caught doing something he should not. Jasmine’s dark eyes regarded him curiously for a moment but, just like the rule with the doors, Jasmine knew when to keep her mouth shut and let her brother have his secrets. Justin kept his head down, concentrating on the desk before him as if it was the greatest wonder. Eventually Jasmine moved away and went to look out of the windows behind. Thankfully, she took her scent with her. That intoxicating scent of an eighteen-year-old girl and an eighteen-year-old mother. A mixture of apple-scented perfume and baby food. It was homely. It was a comfort. It was sexual. A new scent filled the room. Nicotine. Justin swivelled on his seat to find Jasmine sucking down the juices of a cigarette. Her eyes were cast down, inspecting the worker-bees below. She blew out the smoke and quickly took another drag, as if desperate for its taste. Justin wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I don’t like you smoking those things,” he mumbled. Blinking slowly, Jasmine turned to look at him. In a moment of childishness, she blew out a plume of smoke in his direction and smiled when he waved it away. “Tough,” she said. Justin looked at her; Jasmine held his eye. Neither of them spoke. It wasn’t really a battle of wills because they already knew who would be the victor. Not because Jasmine was the eldest, not because Justin was weak, but because nicotine could make the smallest person the strongest. She’d developed the taste for the drug a little after Jason’s birth, just over a year ago. She said it helped her to relax. She claimed she needed it. Justin hated the habit. He thought it was dirty and common and that Jasmine was far too good for drugs to control her. |
Eventually, admitting defeat, the way he always did, Justin asked, “How are the parents?”
Jasmine waved the cigarette in the air, rolling her eyes. “The usual,” she sighed. Justin let his eyes roll down her body, over her white shirt, around her womanly hips and along her thighs, encased in a knee-length, blue, floral skirt. At the bottom he found her feet bare; the ankles still looked swollen. Jasmine had ballooned when she’d been pregnant, he remembered. He’d always been fascinated by her puffy, red ankles and the veins that protruded all the way down her legs. She’d been turned into a woman at the age of sixteen. Of course, she’d been having sex long before then. And apparently not safely. He could still remember the shock on his parent’s faces when Jasmine had revealed her news. Of course, he had already known. She had confided in him first. As it should have been. And as it had always been. But, teenage pregnancy scandal or not, Justin’s mother and father still adored Jasmine. They accepted her faults and mistakes. He knew if he’d have made a girl pregnant he’d have been shunned. But it had always been that way. Even in childhood. Jasmine was their dark-haired princess and he was the letdown son. Even when he did well he was overlooked or belittled. Jasmine could always do something to outshine his best efforts. Sometimes he thought she did it deliberately. Other times he believed God didn’t like him very much. Neither Jasmine nor Justin could find a reason for their parent’s strange dislike for him and his life’s choices. And they had spent many years trying to work it out. It had brought them closer together. This had displeased their parents greatly. Again, something that neither sibling could understand. Most parents would be pleased that their children got along so well, were in fact best friends, and not pulling each other’s hair out. But Mr and Mrs Frederick-King thought it wrong – and most inappropriate. Pushing aside those thoughts, Justin asked, “Are you seeing Rhydian tonight?” “No,” Jasmine said, sighing. “He’s got football training.” |