Fragment #39 - Sisters talk

I meet Sarah at the Granary in Shawlands. She told me it's not far from her new flat. We decided to have a drink, as a way to catch up. Maybe to try also to ease the bad feelings left by the arguments and disagreements. I hope she knows that she is the one who intruded into my life. Although I'm a bit guilty too: I left her settle in it. Could I ever learn this lesson: never be too kind? It doesn't help, really.
She is already there, waiting in front of the door. We kiss each other, just like two normal french women. I realise then that maybe it's a bit unusual... Of course it is. Two Glaswigian sisters would have hugged each other. Anyway.
We enter the pub, order two drinks. It's seven, I order a gin'n'tonic. When we get our drinks we go and sit in a corner. I start asking questions. So she tells me about the new flat, her new flatmates, Connor and Sean, Scottish and American guy. There is a girl too, Mary, but she is back in her family for a couple of weeks in England. I ask about her job prospects too. Just in order to show her that Claire tells me she has been helping her out. I can be very jealous sometimes, and I hope I let her know that she needs to remember Claire is a dearer and more ancient friend to me.
I tell her a few things about my holidays. And then quickly we run out of subjects to discuss. She starts asking about Mike, I tell her he is back in London and that I'm moving on. Maybe my tone was cold. We stop talking. I sip some of my drink. We look at the next table. The situation is becoming akward. Finally she tries to break the ice and ask what happened to my hair. Right, my hair. Which is brown now. I might be the only person to go in a foreign country to go the hairdresser but anyway, that's something I did when I was in Ireland. She seems to think about something, try and remember an old memory. Isn't it Philippe's hair color? It's your true hair color, isn't? Philippe, my dad. I've started tinging my hair about ten years ago, and we aren't much in family pictures at my mother's place. But that my sister, right my half sister as she just remembered me by calling my dad Philippe... doesn't even remember what my real hair colour is... I don't even feel disappointed. Things are right back in their place. She isn't fully in my life anymore, and that doesn't feel bad at all.


Back home. I enter my room, which hasn't felt that big for a long time. I look at myself in the mirror. I don't really recognize myself. I look stronger. What I always wished to be.