Just a short re-take on Penny and Ollie's relationship. Review, please?
He'd spent most of his life jealous of his sister. There had always been the twinge of something bittersweet in his stomach. The bitterness was envy; the sweet... something to complicated for him to understand. Occasionally he found himself staring at her, on the edge of an answer, when the doorbell would ring or a patient would be sick over his shirt and whatever had been almost in his grasped would slip away, unrecoverable.
At twelve, it was him who'd made it to the top of the tree in the back garden first. Penny had slipped and grazed her knee along the bark, leaving her leg welling blood. She'd sat on the grass and blinked back tears when he'd tried to kiss it better.
At sixteen, it had been him going out on a Friday night. Pretty blonde girl lent against the front door, bottle of Vodka tucked discreetly under her arm; his sister sat curled up on the sofa, smiling genuinely at him with her latest library book resting in her lap.
At eighteen it was him who'd opened his A-Level results and been engulfed by one of his mother's hugs and awkwardly slapped on the back by his father, without hesitation. Penny had stood slightly out the way, her head titled to one side and expression of delighted pride on her face – her own envelope unopened in her hand.
At twenty-four, it was him who'd been made an F1 and Penny who'd attempted to hide her own disappointed with his achievement. She'd gripped the notes in her hand and insisted they celebrate.
It was also at twenty-four that Ollie stood helplessly above his sister as she tried to rub tear tracks off her face and workout how Connie Beauchamp had discovered her secret.
He didn't know whether to feel disgusted or triumphant that Scott was definitely out of his sister's life.