Kit was looking terrific these days, Gemma thought, glossy and alive. Since her divorce some years ago, Kit had blossomed. ‘You look great, Kittycat,’ she said. Kit smiled to acknowledge the compliment, then looked more closely at her younger sister. ‘I can’t say the same for you, Gems,’ she said. ‘You’re working too hard.’ ‘It’s not really work,’ said Gemma. ‘It’s life in general.’ Kit took the empty plates away and Gemma followed her out into the kitchen. ‘I’ve been getting awful email,’ Gemma said. ‘Horrible stuff. I was even feeling guilty that somehow I must have caused all these pathetic dirty-minded sickos to come after me. It’s been horrendous.’ She scraped the dishes and put them on the counter. ‘Gems, I don’t understand,’ said Kit, turning round from the sink. ‘How does something like that sort of harassment start?’ Gemma knew exactly how it had started, but there was no way she could admit that to her sister.
