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After several polite verbal attempts at rousing Gail, Jane decided to enhance her wake up call technique with a boisterous banging campaign, which Gail eventually acknowledged by wrenching the door open and hurling a stiletto shoe at Jane, missing her head by millimetres. As Gail was fumbling around for more missiles, Jane – well versed in the art of stiletto evasion and determined not to ruin her mother’s big day with any sibling rivalry – began a rapid retreat downstairs.
 
However, just as she cleared the bottom stair and was only a few short steps from the refuge of the living room, a second shoe struck her just above the left ear. Jane hit the deck harder than an unlucky skydiver and released a deafening wail, interspersed with a varied array of insults, which brought Colleen running in from the kitchen.

‘What the fucking hell is going on here?’ Colleen bellowed, immediately leaping on top of Jane and pinning her to the floor to reduce the chance of any further reprisals. Once satisfied Jane was completely secure, Colleen continued,
‘Look, you little bastards, I’ve been slaving away all fucking morning in that kitchen trying to get these orders sorted out in time to sign on and get myself ready for this afternoon and all you two can do is piss about like a pair of fucking social workers. Have you no consideration for others?’
‘All I was doing was trying to get the fat cow out of bed like you told me to, Mum.’ Jane bleated breathlessly from the floor, still struggling to free herself from Colleen’s clutches and wreak revenge on Gail.
‘Who are you calling a fat cow, dog breath?’ Gail hissed menacingly from the landing, now armed with a fresh arsenal of shoes and clearly ready to rumble. Before Jane had a chance to respond, Colleen stepped in once again with her own distinctive style of parental guidance.
‘Look, if you two don’t shut the fuck up right now, I swear to God, I’ll freeze the fucking pair of you out of the family business and you can both pack your bags and piss off, do you understand me?’        
‘Oh yeah, and who the fuck are you going to get to help you run things around here if you chuck us two out?’ sniped Gail petulantly from the landing.
 ‘I’ll get young Chardonnay Murdoch to sort out any orders I can’t cope with myself and she can help me with the pirate DVDs as well.’   Colleen retorted.     
‘Chardonnay Murdoch is just a snotty, jumped up little brat that sucks up to you.’ Jane protested, still in a crumpled heap beneath her Mother.
‘Well, she may be a snotty nosed little brat to you, Jane, but she was an absolute fucking Godsend to me this summer when you two buggered off again on your 18 to 30’s jaunt and left me in the lurch for the third year running.’
‘And you reckon she’ll be able to deal with all the coppers, bailiffs and awkward customers then, do you?’ Gail sneered sarcastically.
‘No, but her Mother will. In case you’ve forgotten, smart arse, Liebfraumilch gets out of the nick next month and she’s already looking for new business opportunities on the outside. And, as I’m sure you’re both aware, Liebfraumilch Murdoch doesn’t take any shit from anyone. Remember what happened last year when we were all having a drink outside the Flying Bottle and her probation officer walked past and refused to kiss the family pit bull?’

After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Colleen realised that her parenting skills were starting to have the desired effect. Rising up slowly from Jane’s ribcage, she got to her feet and then hit the girls with a knock out blow.

‘Oh, and one more thing, if you two can’t make the effort to be fucking civil with each other on today of all frigging days, you can both keep well away from that community centre this afternoon, do I make myself absolutely fucking clear?’ And with that Colleen slammed the door behind her and marched back into the kitchen.

Although both girls knew deep down that Colleen would never freeze them out of the family business, nor see them out on the street, they recognised the threat of being excluded from the award ceremony as a very real one.  Everybody in town knew just how much this award meant to Colleen and that no one – not even her own flesh and blood – would be allowed to ruin her special day.

Gail and Jane realised they had a big decision to make, and quickly: either call an instant halt to their hostilities or risk missing out on the award ceremony and, more importantly, the chance to bask in all the reflected glory.  

Things weren’t always this volatile between the Synott sisters. In fact, until Gail slept with Jane’s first husband, Mick Fletcher, hours after he discovered his blushing bride in the back of Jim Mumford’s taxi  ‘paying her fare in kind’, the girls had been very close.  But ever since that fateful night, Jane has never been able to forgive Gail for sleeping with her now ex-husband, (something she still does from time to time to wind Jane up) and Gail has never been able to forgive Jane for throwing her marriage to Mick away so cheaply after only six weeks of wedlock. ‘All that agro for a one pound eighty fare’ Gail will exclaim disparagingly, every time the subject of Jane’s infidelity comes up ‘You could at least have got a fucking airport run out of it.’          
      
On this particular occasion Gail was the first to weaken. She tossed the shoe she was holding on to her bedroom floor and began walking downstairs towards Jane. Sensing her sister’s desire to call a truce, Jane rolled tentatively onto her side and hauled herself up a few inches from the floor to meet Gail’s outstretched hand.
      
‘Come on sis’ Gail said as she pulled Jane to her feet and gave her a playful punch on the arm ‘If we don’t get ready soon we’re going to be late signing on.’ Jane smiled, threw her arms around Gail and gave her a big sisterly hug.

Whilst hugging Gail, Jane suddenly grabbed the stray piece of kebab meat that had been clinging stubbornly to the side of Gail’s face throughout the whole ordeal and began waving it in front of Gail’s eyes as a hypnotist would with a watch. As soon as Gail realised what it was, she let out a loud, piercing ‘Oh-my-god-what-a-silly-cow-I-am’ cackle before snatching it straight back out of Jane’s hand.

‘You can get your own fucking breakfast next time’ Gail screeched, lifting the piece of meat high above her head and dancing around the hallway with it hanging from her fingertips like some mad Morris dancer dangling a manky hankie. Jane was laughing so much that no matter how hard she tried to make her sister drop the meat, Gail somehow managed to evade her and keep a firm grip on it. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Jane spotted a Christian Aid envelope on top of a pile of final demands that had been lying around for weeks next to the ‘phone on the hallstand.

‘Stop, Gail, stop, give it to me!’ she squealed ‘I’ve got a great idea, you’re going to fucking love it, trust me, just watch this.’ Reluctantly, Gail handed over the piece of meat and slumped down on the bottom stair to catch her breath as Jane proceeded to take the piece of meat and drop it into the envelope, seal it up and then place it back on to the hallstand ready for collection.
‘Well they’re always fucking moaning about having no food aren’t they the miserable bastards’ Jane howled uncharitably, instantly causing both girls to collapse into uncontrollable fits of giggles once again.

To be continued…

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