Read The Other Ida for Free Online

that is true, but dearest Bridie we’ll miss you, Terri Irons ’99 . She signed it. A fucking condolence card,” Ida said.
    â€œI know, that’s the icing on the cake,” said Tom, laughing.
    â€œI only remember poems about cats and birthdays. She’s obviously matured as a writer since I’ve been gone,” said Ida.
    She put the card back down and moved towards the mantelpiece, where there lay a carved stone ashtray, a tortoiseshell hair clip, and a framed photo of Ida and Alice as children, grinning and frizzy haired in their boaters and school blazers.
    â€œFucking hell,” she said, picking it up and revealing a bottle of whisky that the photo had hidden from view.
    â€œApparently she had hiding places all over the house,” he said seriously.
    Ida winced. Did he think she didn’t know that? That he knew her mother better than she did?
    â€œWell, Alice won’t like that. Waste not, want not,” she said as cheerfully as she could and went to put the bottle in her room.
    Alice showered after her jog and came downstairs in a red high-necked sixties shift dress, blue Adidas Gazelle trainers, and a white mohair cardigan. A satchel was slung across her front, covered in colourful badges.
    â€œStill a ‘Bournemouth High Street nightmare’? Will I do?” she asked.
    â€œIt was your tracksuit… ”
    â€œYeah, the tracksuit that I wear to do exercise – mental.”
    â€œWell, you look nice. I like your shoes,” Ida said. She really did.
    â€œThanks,” said Alice, not quite sure if Ida was taking the piss. “You’ve still got those boots. I couldn’t believe it when you turned up.”
    Ida lifted her leg and showed Alice the sole. “They’re on the way out. Full of holes. I did get them from a charity shop about fifteen years ago, though.”
    â€œShall we go?” Alice asked. “We can’t be long, Dad’s asked us for lunch. Tom still hasn’t met him.”
    Ida followed as Alice took Tom’s hand and stepped outside.
    It was a breezy day and Ida’s head felt cold without the thick hair she was used to. She yawned. The house had made her tired.
    They walked along the road, past flash cars, Ida increasingly impressed and disgusted by how fancy the area had become. She wouldn’t mention it now, she knew she’d better not, but she wondered how much they were going to get for the house. There’d be debts, that was certain, but surely they’d each be in for a decent sum – enough for a deposit on a flat or Alice’s wedding to this indie-schmindie dwarf. She wished she could feel more excited. But the truth was she felt scared. She knew she was terrible with money, she had been all her life, and that in her hands even fifty grand could be fifty quid by the end of the month.
    They reached a battered Mini. Ida expected Tom to drive and was surprised when her sister walked round to the driver’s side and took some keys out of her satchel.
    â€œWhat, you’re going to drive, Alice? You can drive?” Ida asked.
    â€œI’m twenty-six,” said Alice.
    â€œOh, okay. Wow,” said Ida, squeezing into the back seat.
    â€œYou can’t drive?” asked Tom, from the front.
    â€œShe can’t even walk in a straight line,” said Alice as she put on her seatbelt.
    They were silent in the car, seemingly regretting the idea of the walk. Under normal circumstances Ida would have suggested the pub and it took a great deal of strength for her to swallow that suggestion each time it came to her lips. Tom drummed on his knees incessantly – something Ida was sure was driving Alice mad – and took the fact that her sister stayed quiet, politely, as an indication that their relationship was still pretty new.
    The heath was not how Ida remembered it and she was almost embarrassed. Instead of the snakes she had promised Tom there were used condoms and