After writing off Monday as a recovery day, during which Ishaana hardly moved from the sofa while she and Melody slobbed together in front of the TV and ordered a questionable Chinese takeaway, Tuesday passed in a similar manner. Reading week was always an odd time, when Ishaana couldn't quite face spending an entire week at home with nothing to do, but there wasn't much else going on in the house she shared with her friends. Pearl was still in Edinburgh, where she would be for a few more days, and it was times like that when a house of three people seemed incredibly small.

On Wednesday morning, Ishaana woke up with a vow that she would do something with her day, forcing herself out of bed when she awoke at half past nine. Yawning as she rolled out, she cracked her back on the way down to the kitchen, padding down the stairs to find that Melody was already up. She was sat at the table with a plate of toast in front of her, half a slice in one hand and her phone in the other. Her left thumb idly scrolled through her various notifications as she munched, and she looked up with a smile when she heard Ishaana shuffle in.

"Hey!" she said with a bright grin, dropping her toast. "You're up early."

Ishaana laughed. "You can talk," she said, yawning again as she dragged herself to the kettle and she slumped against the counter when she flicked it on, impatiently waiting for the water to boil. Making tea was always the first thing she did in the morning and the last thing she did at night, often making her way through five or six cups a day, and her feet carried her to the kettle any time she was in the kitchen. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well," Melody said, tearing her toast in half and crunching the crust. "I was thinking I might head home for a couple of days. Well, no, I am heading home for a couple of days, to see Mum. D'you wanna come?" She lifted her tea to her lips, the steam fogging up her glasses, and she sighed her irritation as she plucked them off her nose to wipe the lenses. "I fed Tigger; she should be fine for a day or two."

Ishaana pursed her lips, pouring herself a cup of Earl Grey and adding a splash of milk before she joined Melody at the table, folding herself into a seat and crossing her arms. "Yeah, I will," she said. "Priya wants me to come home anyway. And I have fuck all to do here."

Melody smiled, setting her glasses down as she sipped her tea. She had the most fascinating eyes, a murky grey that sometimes appeared blue or green, the colour shifting in the light, but they were always hidden behind her glasses when she refused to get contact lenses. She hated anything going near her eyes, and the thought of putting in contacts every day was enough to make her retch. "Awesome," she said with a smile. "I already texted Mum. She said she'd love to go for lunch – you're included in that, of course. If you want. No pressure."

"No, I'd love to," Ishaana said. She smiled and sipped her tea, more than comfortable with the idea of spending a day with Melody and her mother. They had been her surrogate family when her own had fallen apart, clinging at the pieces that had never made a whole. "Thanks, Mel. Sure you don't mind me hanging on?"

Mel snorted and shook her head, delicately sipping her tea. "You're more than welcome, Ishy, you know that. You can stay over, if you want. Nora's still at uni this week, and she's hardly ever over anyway, so her room's empty." Ripping a quarter of toast into even smaller pieces, she polished off the lot in a few seconds and followed it with the last of her tea.

"Cheers, babe. But I think Pri would actually kill me if she found out I came back to Farnleigh and didn't stay with her," she said with a slight smile. She had never quite been able to call that house home, a word she didn't feel meant anything to her anymore. Home was the house she had grown up in, the house that belonged to someone else now. Home was waking up to her mother's cooked breakfast and going to bed after her father had made dinner. Home didn't exist.

"Well, come for lunch, ok?" Melody stood, brushing her crumbs into the bin before she rinsed her plate and dried it on a tea towel, stacking it back in the cupboard. She never left anything on the side, always washing up as soon as she had finished eating, and she did the same with her mug. Pearl was the same way, impeccably tidy, whereas Ishaana was a slob in comparison. Any dirty plates were undeniably hers, patiently waiting on the side until she gave in and washed them. Sometimes, when Melody was on a tidying binge, she would do it for her, but that only ever left Ishaana feeling horribly guilty for being a mess.

"Will do," she said, warming her hands with her mug. "Mel?"

"Mmm?" Melody looked over her shoulder, squinting a little without her glasses, though it did nothing to improve her terrible vision.

"You're pretty fantastic. I hope you know that."

She smiled, her grin showing off her teeth, and her cheeks pinkened. "Right back at you, Ishy," she said, unable to take a compliment without returning or denying it, and Ishaana smiled. Where she'd be without Melody in her life, she had no idea, and she didn't care to find out. Her best friend kept her in check, taking her down a notch when things got too much or picking her up when she couldn't do it herself. She was comfort and stability in human form, her auburn hair a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dreary world.

After thirty minutes on the train, Ishaana was more than ready to get off by the time it pulled into Farnleigh station at midday, the platform as dreary and grey as the sky. It wasn't going to be a nice day, heavy clouds laden with unshed rain, and Ishaana pulled up the hood of her coat as she followed Melody down the carriage, hopping onto the platform with her hands stuffed in her pockets. There was a cold breeze, a sign of the wind that would come later, and she tucked her chin against her chest. February was her second least favourite month, right after January, and she looked forward to it being March in less than a couple of weeks.

Looking up from her feet, her line of vision was suddenly filled with a vision in red, fiery hair tumbling over the collar of a crimson coat, and she smiled at the sight of Melody's mother as Frankie pulle d her and Melody into a tight hug.

"Girls!" she cried, squeezing them together. "It's so lovely to see you." She swatted Melody's arm. "I've been lonely, babes. You should come home more often."

"Hey, Mum." Melody grinned and pulled her mother into another hug. The two were virtually identical, the same hazy eyes and ginger hair, their similarities striking to the point that Ishaana hadn't believed Melody when she had first said that she was adopted. She had laughed off her friend as a terrible liar, and it had been weeks before Ishaana had met Frankie Morley at long last, who had confirmed her daughter's story. Melody had been adopted at the age of two by the woman who just happened to be her spitting image, and Ishaana had grovelled her most sincere apologies for a week.

"How're you? Goodness, Ishy, I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

"Hi, Frankie," Ishaana said with a warm smile for the woman who had taken her in unquestioningly. "It's been a while, yeah. Sorry for hogging Mel."

Frankie flapped her hand, ushering the girls towards the car when it looked as though the heavens would open any minute. Ishaana slipped into the back seat beside her friend, pulling her hair out from under her collar, and a sense of calm washed over her. She always felt that way when she was around Melody and her mother, only tinged with the slightest hint of jealous. They were by no means a regular family, with the addition of Frankie's girlfriend Mirai and her daughter, Nora, who was only a year or two older than Melody, but Melody was surrounded by people who adored her.

"So, how's Manchester treating you?" Frankie asked as she waited at a red light to leave the station, heading a little closer to town to find somewhere for a bite to eat. "Any news? Oh, Mel, baby, how was the concert? Did you girls have a good time?"

"It was amazing," Melody said, leaning forward on her knees, and Ishaana chuckled as she waited for the elaboration. Melody and her mother were close, to the point that almost nothing went unsaid. "Ishy won't back me up but I swear, they're even better live."

With a snort, Ishaana added, "That's not hard."

Melody whacked her arm, shooting her a faux-angry scowl. "They were awesome. Ishy's just not woman enough to admit that she likes them now. I'll convert her before long. Oh!"

"Oh?" Ishaana asked, her ears pricking up.

"I have a date on Friday," Melody said, glancing at her friend. "Remember Jade?"

"The baby lesbian?"

"Yup. We're going out on Friday." Melody's attention returned to her mother, who had always been more of a best friend. "My first date in, like, eight months. About bloody time."

Frankie chuckled, reaching back to pat her daughter's knee. "You're young yet, baby. There's someone out there for everyone. Maybe multiple someones, I don't know. I found mine, eventually. Sometimes it just takes a while."

Melody smiled and sighed, nodding to herself. "All in good time," she said. She was still young, only just twenty, but she craved the comfort of a relationship the way that Ishaana craved the rush of a one-night stand.

The pub held the perfect atmosphere for a sturdy lunch on a dreary day and Ishaana sighed her satisfaction as she tucked into a plate of hearty shepherd's pie, relishing in the mixture of soft, seasoned meat and creamy mashed potato. Life buzzed around them, the raucous laughter of friends having drinks over lunch and the quiet love of couples eating together, and her eyes wandered as she ate, drifting in and out of the conversations that carried on throughout the pub.

"How's your food, Ishy?" Frankie asked, her eyes as bright and inquisitive as her daughter's, though she was more than double the age. "You ok there, hun? You seem a little spaced out."

"Just thinking," she said with a smile.

"About Casey?" Melody asked, her eyebrows wiggling like uncontrollably dancing caterpillars.

"This is delicious. Thanks, Frankie. You really didn't have to pay."

"Oh, goodness, it's my treat, darling! It's not every day I get to have lunch with my girls. Not when you two are living it up in Manchester, and Nora's so busy with her last year. Of course it's on me." She wore an infectious smile as she sliced into her fish, pairing it with a sliver of potato. "Mirai's back in April. Until then, I'll just have to spoil you guys."

Melody wore a smile at the mention of her mother's girlfriend's name, the two women practically married after eight years of living together, but Ishaana sensed a hint of apprehension behind her lips. Mirai had been stationed in Afghanisation for four months now, and Melody was constantly on edge any time the country came up on the news, paranoid that she would lose the woman who was as good as her step-mother.

"Well, I can't say no to that," Ishaana said with a grin. "We should come back more often, Mel."

Frankie grinned, slipping her hand over her daughter's for a fraction of a second before she moved her fingers to her wine glass and she took a sip. "You know I'd love that more than anything. And Ishy, there's always space for you, hun. Are you staying tonight?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "I'm gonna head home," she said, struggling to wrap her tongue around the word that didn't fit with the place she was talking about. "Priya will want to see me, even if she pretends she doesn't. I know Suni wanted me to come back, too. I'll stay the night, maybe two."

"Lovely," Frankie said with a warm smile, her eyes softening. She had been clued in to the situation from the start, and by now she knew Ishaana well enough to know when more need not be said.

It was a nice house. It wasn't home, but it would have to do, and it was a nice house. The small garden out front was neatly pruned, bursting with colour in the summer, while now it was home to the snowdrops that followed the New Year and soon the bluebells of spring would burst out of their bulbs. Hitching her bag over her shoulder and pulling up her hood, Ishaana stepped down the path as the afternoon turned to evening, the sky a hazy grey that would soon be black.

After a couple of hours of lunch, she had headed back to Melody's house for a few hours, relaxing with her friend in the ridiculously arty home that she adored. Sculptures and paintings climbed up every nook and cranny of the narrow, four-storey townhouse, and every room was a brightly coloured feature. Melody had inherited her creative flair from her mother, a high school art teacher who held an incredible talent with a paintbrush in her hand. She was like a grown-up Melody in every way, every bit as enthusiastic and bold, as caring and as talented.

Ishaana envied that. She had never really had a talent, not in the way that Melody was a painter and a singer and an actress, a triple threat of creativity that bubbled out of her in every way. Her parents had always encouraged her to take up an instrument but she never had, giving up after a handful of lessons. Now she wished she had persisted with the violin, ten years too late.

Raising her knuckles to the door, she knocked quietly and suddenly wondered if she should have called ahead. She hadn't warned her aunt, Sunita, that she would be coming home and she had no clue how the surprise visit would be taken. In the two years that she had used the address as her own, she had spent a grand total of perhaps four months inside its walls, and her confidence wavered as she waited for a response.

The door opened with Priya on the other side, her jaw dropping and her eyes popping to see her sister on the doorstep, and she ran at her with a hug that almost sent the two of them toppling into the bushes.

"Ishy! I didn't know you were coming!" Priya cried, steadying herself on her feet when she pulled herself away at last, and Ishaana smiled.

"Me neither. Kind of a last minute decision. Do you think Suni will mind?"

"No, no, not at all!" Priya dragged her into the house, shutting out the cool evening. "Suni!" she yelled, pulling Ishaana towards the kitchen. "Look who I found."

Sunita was standing over the oven, the strong scent of cumin and turmuric wafting up from the pan, and when she turned around, instant shock graced her features. A gentle, understated woman, she had taken in her nieces without question as though they were her own daughters when they had needed her, and now she dropped the wooden spoon into the pan to throw her arms around her oldest niece.

"Ishaana! I didn't know you were coming home," she said. "You should have called me; I would have cooked extra."

"What is it?" Ishaana asked, peering into the pan.

"Methi matar pulao," Sunita said, and behind her, Priya wrinkled her nose. She had never been much of a fan of her family's Jainism, but she adhered to it around the house and Sunita turned a blind eye to anything that was eaten outside of the four walls. She had always struggled to admonish her niece, who had been through enough not to warrant a telling off for eating potatoes. "There should be enough for you too. Goodness me, it's wonderful to see you, Ishaana."

"You too, Suni," Ishaana said, and she smiled. She always worked it up into a bigger deal than it was to come back, and she always felt like a fool for staying away for so long when it was her sister she was punishing by doing that, not herself. "Sorry it's been a while. Sorry, Pri."

"You shouldn't leave it so long, Ishy," Priya said, arms folded with a petulant frown on her face. "I miss you."

"We all do," Sunita said, returning to the pan of spiced rice. "Saffiya's gone to see her friend, I'm afraid. She might have stayed if she'd known you were coming, Ishaana."

"I'll be back at the end of March," Ishaana said. "You'll have me for a whole month. By the end, you'll be wishing I was out of your hair."

"No I won't," Priya said, and she slunk across the kitchen to her big sister, wrapping her arms around her. "I mean it, Ishy. I miss you when you're not here."

Ishaana chuckled and squeezed her little sister, kissing the top of her head. The seven years that separated them had served them well, giving Ishaana the perspective on her own childhood to help her sister through her own. There was no doubt that Priya had been the result of their parents' desperate attempt to pull their marriage back together and it had worked, despite the odds. While Priya didn't know that, and she never would, Ishaana couldn't forget the years of petty squabbles and fiery fights before her sister's birth. It was a terrible idea, but she couldn't resent her parents for giving her a sister.

"Love you, Pri," she said, holding her sister tight until Priya pulled away with a gasp, thick eyebrows shooting up.

"Oh! How was the concert?" She scrunched up her face, dark eyes peeping out through long lashes. "Please don't say you're a Seasoner now."

"What's a Seasoner?" Sunita asked, and Priya groaned as she turned to face her aunt.

"A fan of South Season. The band. The one Ishy went to see even though they suck and we hate them."

Laughing, Ishaana ruffled her sister's hair as though she was far younger than her thirteen years. Sometimes she seemed that way, and she wanted to preserve that. "No, I'm not, don't worry. They were predictably terrible. But Mel enjoyed it, and that's what matters."

After eating the meal that Ishaana surprised herself by enjoying, and as the film they were watching came to a close, she gathered up the plates to take through to the kitchen. Eating in front of the television was unheard of, something she had never done before with her aunt, but it seemed that the rules were slowly relaxing while she was away. Sunita had never been too strict, not even with her own daughter, but in the past, every meal had been eaten at the table.

As she washed up, trying to do her bit to help out for the short time she planned on staying, she heard the pad of soft feet behind her and she turned around to see her aunt hovering behind her.

"Hey, Suni," she said with a smile, and the petite woman returned it.

"Hi, Ishaana," she said. "Can we talk?"

A sliver of dread wormed its way into Ishaana's stomach as she nodded, though she had no idea what her aunt could want to talk about. Sunita stepped closer to the sink, one eye on the door that connected them to the sitting room, where Priya was still watching the last of the film. She always stayed right through until the end of the credits.

"What's up?" she asked, slipping off the rubber gloves she had pulled on to do a proper job of the washing.

Sunita wrung her wrists and let out a short sigh. "I'm a little worried about Priya," she said. "I'm worried about how she's processing everything."

Ishaana frowned. "What? What d'you mean?"

"Well, I don't know," Sunita said. "She's been going through a lot of changes recently. Saffi's moved on to college and her group of friends has been changing, and I have been thinking about moving. Not far away, just moving house. She didn't take it well at all." Her face face, despair in her heavy eyes. "I just worry, Ishaana, that maybe it is only now sinking in. She's always been so strong and I worry that she's realising this ... well, this is permanent."

"Oh," Ishaana said, the solitary word drowned out by the running of the tap. "Ok. I'll talk to her, I suppose. She seems fine, Suni. Priya's not an emotional kid. Maybe she just doesn't want to move."

Sunita sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. I thought she would take it better from you, anyway." She sank against the counter, watching as Ishaana dried up the dishes she had washed and stacked them back in the cupboards, sometimes forgetting where everything went in the house that wasn't home.

Priya came in from next door, twisting her lips as she tried not to yawn. "I'm gonna head up," she said, folding against her aunt for a hug before she moved to her sister, holding her a little tighter for a little longer. "Are you coming up?"

Ishaana smiled and nodded, and she didn't miss the flicker of relief that crossed her aunt's face. She had no idea where to begin with unpicking her sister, not wanting to uncover anything that would be better off buried, but she was willing to give it a go, and she hugged Sunita goodnight before she followed her sister upstairs.

While Priya changed for bed, washing her face in her tiny ensuite bathroom, Ishaana sat on the edge of her bed with her elbows on her knees, and she smiled when her sister came back in, wearing a pair of fluffy pyjamas that made her look like she was ten years old.

"How's it going, Pri?" she asked, started simple.

"Not bad," she said, clambering onto her bed and tucking herself under the covers, rolling onto her side to face her sister when Ishaana moved to a chair that she pulled over, leaning against the chest of drawers. "I'm ninety percent sure Saffi has a boyfriend, but don't let Suni think that." She pressed her finger to her lips and Ishaana chuckled: her aunt would die if she heard a whisper what she had got up to a couple of nights ago.

"How about you though, Pri? How're you?"

"I'm fine," Priya said, and she shrugged. "Why? Is something up? Are you ok?"

Smiling, Ishaana nodded and pursed her lips. "I'm ok," she said. "I just worry about you sometimes. I'm sorry I'm not around more, Pri. I really am. I wish I'd been around here more before I went to uni. The timing really sucked."

Priya frowned, pulling her duvet up around her shoulders. "Of course the timing sucked," she said. "There's no good time for your parents to die, Ishy. You're a grown up. You should know that."

Ishaana's heart seized and she steepled her hands, elbows on her knees. "I'm sorry, Pri. I didn't mean it like that. I just mean, God, I don't know what I mean."

"I do," Priya said. "I wasn't snapping. That's just the truth. Unless you hate your parents, there's no good time for them to die, and I didn't hate them, so it was bad timing."

Ishaana had always thought that she was blunt, and it appeared to have rubbed off on her little sister without her even realising, and Priya's words stung to hear. "How're things around here?" she asked. "You seem to be doing pretty well, I must say."

"It's been two years," Priya said. "It's fine." She sighed, eyeing her sister as though trying to figure out what she wanted. "I love Suni, but she's not Mum. And that's just another fact. I miss Mum. I miss Dad too. And I know you do, and I know Suni does, and Saffi too. We all do. Fact. It sucks. Suni's great. She really is, but she's not Mum and she never will be, and sometimes that hurts more than other times, but I'm fine, Ishy."

Ishaana stared at her sister, a tear pricking her eyes that she briskly blinked away, cursing her emotions. She wasn't emotional, not usually, but she wasn't often around her sister, the girl she had helped to raise and who now seemed to be raising herself. "I miss them too," she said at last, and Priya reached out to hold her hand as though she was the parent in the situation.

"I miss you," she said, dark eyes searching her sister. "I wish you were here more, Ishy. I hate that you're at uni. I really, really hate it."

Ishaana pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, gritting her teeth to hold back any emotion, and she forced a smile. "I'm sorry, Pri. I really am. I'll try to come back more. And you could come and visit me sometime."

Priya laughed and dropped onto her back, turning her cheek against the pillow. Black hair splayed out around her face like a charcoal halo. "Suni would never let me do that," she said. "She won't even let me walk to school, or take the bus on my own. It's nice to be driven everywhere, I guess, but it'd be nice to walk with my friends sometimes."

"She's just looking out for you," Ishaana said, her throat constricting. It was a foreign feeling, the emotion that clogged her throat, and she was reminded of why her visits home had become so infrequent. It hurt to remind herself of how much her life had changed since her parents had died, their lives extinguished in the fraction of a second it took a drunkard to run a red light.

"I know. It's fine. It's kinda sweet, I guess. You know, if you were here, you could drive me place. Or walk with me, or get the bus."

With a smile, Ishaana nodded. "I break up in six weeks. I'll be home for a whole month," she said, vowing to stick to that. She had said it before, and a month had become a fortnight, until hardly more than a week had been spent with her family.

"You don't mean that," Priya said, sighing.

"I do. I'll be here, Pri." She held out her little finger, slightly crooked after an accident when she was a child. "Pinky promise."

Priya grinned, though there was a hint of scepticism in her eyes. "Ok," she said. "I'll hold you to that. And you'll owe me a hundred pounds if you don't stay." Locking fingers, she held on tightly for a long moment. "Ishy?"

"Mmm?"

"Love you, even though you went and saw that crappy band."

Ishaana smiled, leaning over her sister to hug her. "I love you more, Pri. Almost as much as I love South Season."

Priya gasped so loud that the entire neighbourhood probably heard it, and it was a wonder Sunita didn't rush in to see what was going on. Stifling her laughter, Ishaana grinned and stood, turning off her sister's light.

"Sleep tight," she said, slipping out of the room, and she pulled the door shut behind herself. Only when she was on the other side did she lean against the wall and close her eyes, one hand covering her face as she let go of the lump in her throat that strangled her when she thought about the family she had lost, and the sister she was pushing away.

"Ishaana?" Sunita stepped out of her bedroom, dress in a long nightgown with her hair pooling around her shoulders. For a moment, she looked younger than her fifty years and her face crumpled to see Ishaana's rare display of emotion. Ishaana rarely cried but as hard as she blinked and as much as she swallowed, she couldn't shake the sudden tears that flooded her and when her aunt pulled her into a hug, she didn't resist.

It felt good to have Sunita's arms around her, the closest thing to her mother's hug that she would ever feel again, and she relaxed against her aunt as she held her, a silent tear streaking down her cheek before she briskly swiped at it with the back of her wrist.

"Sorry," she muttered, taking a deep breath as she regained her composure. Sunita rubbed her arm, and she turned her devastation into a smile as she said the two words Ishaana had needed to hear for longer than she realised.

"It's ok."

+ - + - +

i hope you liked this! not every chapter can be saucy and if you know me, you know i like to give a bit of family background. i hope you enjoyed it and you're ready for the rest :D