Deathless

Chapter 7: Millie

The door flies open almost immediately after I ring the bell. Chloe's beaming face drops when she sees my outfit, folding her arms across her dressing gown as she takes my clothes in with a look of horror. I look down at myself. Roisin and I had spent all afternoon putting together my look, styling my hair, and applying my makeup. Obviously, I'd wasted my time.

"You better come in. We've got a lot to do."

She sighs dramatically and, with a flick of blonde hair, spins around and back into the house. I linger awkwardly on the doorstep for a moment before following her in and out of the chilly autumn air. After shutting the door, I turn to take in her house. It looks different, or at least I could tell they'd redecorated it, probably a few times over, since I'd last been here. Everything was painted in modern shades of grey and a series of small, sparkling chandeliers hang from the ceiling. The walls are filled with family photos, the black and white shots blending stylishly with the dove-grey walls.

I feel scruffy and out of place.

As Chloe walks up the stairs, Rachel pops her head around the front room door. Her blonde hair, the same shade as Chloe's, is styled into a sleek bob, her lips thickly painted in a rosy-brown hue.

"Millie, sweetheart. It's so good to see you." She walks into the hallway and pulls me into a tight hug before waiting for a response. Chloe is watching from the top of the stairs. I can see her hands impatiently gripping the bannister. "I've been thinking about you ever since the funeral. How have you been?"

"Mum. We need to get ready," Chloe hisses.

"Just a sec." Rachel pulls back from the hug but never takes her eyes off me. Her head dipped in that angle people use when they're trying to look caring and sympathetic. My smile sits stiffly on my face. I try to look grateful, but I'm not. Instead, a small pool of anger bubbles in my belly. Rachel looks very pleased with herself. And I know she'll bask in the warm glow of it later on, at what a good person she is, at how considerate she's being to an old friend's unfortunate daughter. She hadn't contacted us the entire time Mum was sick.

"Are you OK, sweetheart?" She smiles and I feel nauseous.

"I'm fine Rachel, I uh... I better get ready."

I pull away and walk up the stairs towards Chloe.

"OK, sweetheart. Have a wonderful night!" I nod politely and she turns to look at Chloe. A meaningful look passes between them and then Rachel walks back into the front room, flicking her hair as dramatically as her daughter. Chloe is still rolling her eyes when I walk up the stairs towards her.

"She's so embarrassing. Honestly, living at home is saving me a fortune, but sometimes it's so not worth it. Come on, something in my wardrobe should fit you."

Chloe turns a corner and is out of sight, but I don't need to follow her to know the door she's walking through. I'd spent half my childhood in that room. I walk in, gently nudging the white door that still has the wooden letters spelling out 'Chloe' in bubblegum pink. Faded and half-torn stickers surround it, with boy bands and cartoon characters.

The room is how I remember it, but also completely different. The cherry blossom wallpaper and white furniture are all the same, but the posters, piles of make-up and jewellery that coat her dressing table and chest of drawers are all new. As are the photos she has pinned across the room. The ones she had of me and her are gone. Instead, the photos are of the dozens of friends Chloe has made in my absence. Marnie appears over and over again like a bad joke.

"OK, I think this one should fit."

Chloe is bent over, deep into a messy wardrobe so stuffed with clothes that there's as much on the bottom as there is hanging up. She turns to look me up and down, measuring me in her mind. I find myself self-consciously tugging at my clothes.