Getting through the airport had been a nightmare. There must've been thirty photographers, taking pictures and shouting questions over each other. Clem had kept her gaze resolutely on the floor, clinging grimly to Johnny's hand. John smiled at her, a sunny one that showed none of the angst and anguish he'd shown on the plane, and Clementine understood: Don't let them see how much it hurts, don't let it show how much you're bothered. Never explain, never complain.

He released her hand, and for one, frantic moment Clementine felt lost, terrified, untethered from everything. She felt like she might just float away. Then she felt his hand, large, warm and reassuring, on her back, guiding her, and she was okay. She even managed to smile back at him.

They made it safely to the car and the reporters were left behind as it pulled smoothly away from the curb.

"Now, if we're lucky, there won't be any more at your car, or at your house," Johnny said, pressing a kiss to her hand.

Clem nodded, already exhausted. "You think I should go straight home, or stop by Hy's house?" she asked John.

"Well, if it were me, I'd want to resolve things as soon as possible," John said apologetically. "I'd go straight to your sister's and try to get things worked out."

Clementine slumped. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. You're right, I suppose. I'll go by her house before I go home."

"What about your mum?" John asked, looking at her. "Has she contacted you?"

Clem shook her head. "She's at work, though, she probably won't hear about any of this until she gets home."

Thankfully, there were no paparazzi around Clem's car. She hugged John, kissed him hard, and got out.

"Call me later, yeah?" he asked as she closed her door.

She nodded and pulled away into the sultry afternoon.

She had no memory of the drive to Hy's, but she arrived there anyway, and saw that Hy's car was in the driveway, which meant she was probably home.

Clem got out and walked to the door, feeling like she was going to throw up. She nervously smoothed down her shirt, lifted her hand and pressed the doorbell.

"Who is it?" Even through the door, and only from those three words, Clem could tell that Hy was upset and had been crying.

"It's me, Hy, it's Clem."

Silence.

Then, "Go away, Clemmy, I don't want to see you right now."

"Please, Hy, let's talk. I need to talk to you, to explain everything."

"There's nothing to explain, honest. I understand everything. Now please go away?"

"I'm not leaving until I talk to you." Her strong tone of voice surprised even Clem; she wasn't known for standing her ground.

More silence, then, finally, the sound of the bolt being thrown and the doorknob turning.

Clem entered the relative darkness of Hy's front hall, following her sister into the living area.

She could see that Hy was in her comfort pajamas, a ratty pair of sweats with a cherished and threadbare pajama top. Her hair was piled haphazardly on her head, and she was of course holding a steaming cup of tea. She could see that Hy had indeed been crying, her face devoid of any makeup.

Hyacinth turned around and sat in her favorite easy chair, drawing her legs up under her.

She didn't offer Clem a seat, but Clem sat anyway, across from her sister.

"What do you want to say to me?" Hy's voice was raspy and weary. "Oh, sorry, what do you want to 'explain'?" She shook her head. "Honestly, Clem, I get it. You and Johnny are an item, and for whatever reason you didn't think to tell me about it. Nice tan, by the way."

"I wanted to," Clem began desperately, leaning forward. "Please believe me, Hy, I wanted to so badly—"

"But what? There never seemed to be a good time?" The sarcasm in Hy's voice was terrible. "All those times I gushed about him to you, it never occurred to you to stop me from embarrassing myself?" She took a sip of her tea. "Just tell me one thing, Clementine. How long has it been going on? Were you involved with him at Anastasia's opening?"

Clem shook her head. "I knew I liked him, but I never dreamed he'd like me back."

"So John's been your secret boyfriend all this time?" Now Hyacinth's voice held only sorrow.

Clementine nodded. "The night of the games night I wanted to tell you so badly—"

"The games night? The night I tried to invite you guys over for pizza but you were both too busy? That night?"

Clementine nodded again.

"I remember that night. He was 'knackered' and you had an early class, right? Only that wasn't right, was it? You had plans to get together with each other, only you had to get rid of poor, pitiful Hy first." Her voice held self-pity and self-loathing in equal measure. "God, how many times did you have to ditch me so you could go off and be together and laugh at me?" She shook her head. "Boy, was I stupid."

"No, Hy, it wasn't like that, you were never in the way, we never felt like we wanted to get rid of you, we certainly never laughed at you—"

"Oh, please, Clementine." Hyacinth's voice was scathing. "All those nights when we were together, with my hopeful comments that tonight would be the night he finally asked me out, how you must have howled about me! You probably couldn't wait to get rid of me." A tear fell from her eye, a tear which she viciously swiped away. "Honestly, I was pathetic." She spat the word out. "And now you have your secret assignation in, where is it? The Bahamas? How was that, Clemmy? Looked like you were having a fantastic time. And now the whole world knows what you look like screwing with no clothes on. How funny, you were always so shy, weren't you?

"Tell me, Clem, how did you do it?"

Clem gave her a blank stare.

"However did you entice Johnny Darling to fall for you?"

And Clem could hear the slight emphasis on the word "you," as in "How could you of all people accomplish such a thing?"

"What do you mean? We both liked art and painting, we started talking, and it just happened."

"Right. Johnny Darling has his choice of you or me, and he chooses you?" Hyacinth looked her sister up and down, a gesture which didn't go unnoticed by Clementine.

"Is that so hard to believe? Hy, do you really think so little of me?" Clem couldn't keep the hurt from her voice.

"How?" Hyacinth burst out, he voice loud enough to make Clem jump. "How could he choose plain, dumpy, talentless Clementine when I was waiting for him?"

"Plain? Dumpy?" Clem repeated, aghast. "That's what you really think of me?" She rose, knowing she was going to start crying in a few moments.

Talentless?

"What can you do, Clementine, that's worth anything to anyone?" Hy asked through her tears. "Draw? Flounce around, sewing old clothes together to make new ones?" Her tone was scathing. "Wow, Clemmy, you're right, you're a real catch, aren't you? No wonder John chose you instead of me."

"Maybe he didn't want to be with a superficial idiot with the depth of a dinner plate," Clementine shot back, finally furious.

Hyacinth gasped and flinched as though she'd been slapped. "I think you'd better go," she said, rising, her voice clipped.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing," Clementine retorted. "This is me, flouncing out, in case you were wondering."

She shut the front door and leaned on it, chest heaving for breath. And finally, the tears that had been threatening broke through, and she was sobbing, hand still on the doorknob.

She got in her car and headed for home, knowing she was upset and therefore being extra careful with her driving. Now that she was away from the immediacy of the moment, she could look back and have the good grace to be a little ashamed. 

Had she really said those things about her sister? Had she really called her shallow?

Her sister whom she loved more than anything?

But.

Hy had said some pretty awful things, too. Plain. Dumpy. Talentless.

Clementine carefully reached for a tissue as she drove so she could blow her nose.

Did Hy really think that about her?

Clementine had to admit that it hurt.

She arrived home, where, thankfully, there were no paps. And her mother was home as well.

Clementine let herself in and heard her mother call her. "Clemmy? I'm in the kitchen, I made tea."

Clem dropped her pull case and ran to the kitchen, where her mother was waiting for her.

"Oh, my baby Clem, I'm so sorry," her mother said, rising from where she'd been sitting at the kitchen table. She held her arms out, and Clem just stepped in, without saying a word.

"I'm so sorry, Clem, so very sorry," Jill soothed, smoothing her daughter's hair. "I'm so sorry the world is such an ugly place."

"Mom—Hy—" Clem couldn't say any more, she was crying too hard.

"Honey, Hy will get over this, I'm sure she will." She lifted Clementine's head so she could look her in the eye. "I take it she didn't know about this?"

Miserably, Clem shook her head. "And she had a crush on John herself—"

Jill sighed, continuing to stroke her hair. "You girls, you always manage to hurt each other, in spite of loving each other so much." She turned and headed them toward the couch, leaving their tea untouched on the table.

They sat together, snuggling as Clem tried to control her tears.

"The thing is, I wanted to tell her so many times, but there never seemed to be a good time, you know? And things with Johnny just kept getting more and more serious, and the lie kept getting bigger and bigger, until I just didn't know what to do—" more stormy crying.

"I can see how that would happen," Jill commiserated, kissing her daughter's brown hair.

"But Johnny does really love me, Mom, he chose me over Hy, he really did."

"And I can see how that would happen as well," Jill answered with a smile. "You just glow, Clem, you're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as Hy, though," Clem finished, sniffing.

"You and Hyacinth have different kinds of beauty, that's all," Jill said with finality. "And John happened to respond to yours. It's no one's fault, no one is to blame."

"But Hyacinth hates me," Clem said, her voice full of despair. "And maybe Johnny, too. And they have to work together again starting tomorrow morning. How's that going to go?"

"I don't know," Jill admitted. "I guess we'll just have to let them work it out on their own."

"I guess I'd better get up to my room," Clementine finally said, wiping her eyes. "I told John I'd call him."

"You go on, then, call your young man. And take your tea with you."

"Okay. And mom?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."