It Would Be Wrong To Steal My Sister's Boyfriend - Plot & Excerpts
Rose ran through the door and threw herself and her suitcase down on one of the twin beds. I laughed. “You can have whichever one you like, it’s your room after all.” Strictly speaking it wasn’t any more, of course, it was Dad and Serena’s guest room, and tastefully decorated with pristine white duvets and an abstract painting with splashes of bright jewel colours hanging above the fireplace. But it used to be Rose’s – she’d fallen in love with it as a ten-year-old because if you leaned out of the window and craned your neck you could see a little slice of river, and sometimes swans gliding past. The room that used to be mine is at the very top of the house, converted from an attic, and I didn’t care that all you could see out of its tiny windows was sky. I loved the idea of my own little kingdom right at the top of the house, where I could shut myself away for hours with a book, impervious to Rose’s entreaties to come down and play with her. That room has been turned into a study for Serena, with a squashy sofa that pulls out into a double bed where Granny and Grandpa sleep.
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