No Sister of Mine (ARC)

by Vivien Brown

  they have him to answer to.’ She laughed. ‘He’s big and I’m small. He likes football and I like books. It’s what makes the world work, isn’t it? Us all being different. And who wants to be

  like everybody else anyway? Although I wouldn’t mind being like you . . . when I grow up,

  that is.’ She looked up at me and pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t mean now . . .’

  I made it to the staff room with five minutes to spare, guzzled the doughnut quickly,

  wiped the line of sugar from my lips as I drank the last of my too-hot coffee, and dashed off to my next class. I had been asking myself why I bothered teaching and Laura had shown me the

  answer. I had to forget about my sister and concentrate on myself and my career, my future,

  my life. My passion for English, and for poetry, was important. Not only to me, but to the

  children, even if it turned out to be only one in every hundred who felt the way I did.

  ***

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  Little Janey was almost three months old by the time I finally met her. I had decided to bite the bullet and go home for Christmas, to see Mum and Dad, and to catch up with Lucy and Robert,

  who I hadn’t seen since their wedding day. Poor old Buster was sick too, struggling along at

  the grand old age of thirteen, and not expected to live for much longer, and I couldn’t let him slip away without a final hold of his paw and a slobbery kiss goodbye. It was inevitable I would have to see Sarah and Josh, but I also knew it was time I learned to deal with it.

  Our old bedroom didn’t look a lot different, despite having nobody living in it anymore.

  Mum had made new curtains and there were new duvet covers on the beds, and quite possibly

  new sheets as well, but the wallpaper and carpets hadn’t changed and the beds themselves still

  stood as they always had, just feet apart, against opposite walls. I paused in the doorway,

  pushing back the memories of seeing the two of them lying there, and forced myself to step

  into the room and lay my case down on top of my old bed. I would sleep in Sarah’s. It wasn’t

  as if she would care, or have any say in the matter, now she had a home of her own. And Mum

  would just tell me I was being silly, or over-dramatic, if I refused to use the room at all.

  ‘Come down for a cuppa,’ she called up the stairs, ‘once you’ve unpacked.’

  Buster waddled towards me as soon as I’d settled on the sofa with a mug in my hand.

  He was looking really old and slow, his once black coat now dull and almost totally grey, his

  eyes cloudy. ‘Hello, Boy.’ I let him rest his muzzle in my open hand as he sniffed at me. ‘Are

  you pleased to see me?’

  ‘I don’t think he can see you very well at all, Love,’ Mum said, offering the biscuit tin.

  I saw she’d got my favourite garibaldis in specially. ‘He gets by pretty much on smell these

  days.’

  I picked out two biscuits and gave one of them to Buster and he chewed at it, dropping

  soggy crumbs on the carpet and not bothering to seek them out.

  ‘We don’t try to make him walk anymore. Just take him out into the back garden to do

  his business. He sleeps most of the time. Won’t be long now, I think. I just hope he goes

  peacefully and we don’t have to take him to the vet for . . . well, you know.’

  I could feel the tears coming, but what good would they do? They couldn’t save him.

  Nothing could. ‘I’m just glad I’m here,’ I said, pulling myself together. ‘And that we can have this last Christmas with him.’

  ‘Your sister said she’d be round with Janey at about four,’ Mum said, taking the

  conversation away from the inevitable. ‘And Josh will join them as soon as he’s back from

  work. I’m cooking a roast chicken.’

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  ‘Right.’

  ‘I know you find it difficult, Love, but it’s nearly Christmas, so do your best, eh? We’ve

  missed having everyone here together these last few Christmases. First you staying away,

  spending time with your friends, and then Sarah off to Josh’s parents every other year. I thought maybe the two of you could put the decorations on the tree, the way you always used to. It

  might help break the ice a bit, help bring you closer again. I’ve even bought a new fairy. That old one was falling apart.’

  To be honest, I hadn’t even noticed that the tree was standing bare in the corner or that

  the cardboard box of decorations was waiting at its foot. ‘But she was my fairy,’ I said, feeling ridiculously indignant all of a sudden. ‘I made her at school.’

  ‘Yes, I know, and I’m not throwing her away, don’t worry. I never would. She’ll go in

  my box of keepsakes, along with all the Mother’s Day cards and little drawings I’ve hung on

  to all these years. Or you can take her home with you. Whatever you like, Love. But I thought,

  now we have Janey, it was time to get a few new bits, you know. I bought one of those Baby’s-

  First-Christmas baubles too, with a teddy on it. She’ll like that.’

  It was only when I heard the front door slam that I realised Sarah had arrived and, there

  having been no ring of the bell, she must still have her own key.

  ‘We’re here, Mum,’ she called out, quite unnecessarily, as she bumped several hefty

  carrier bags and a baby car carrier along the hall and into the room. ‘Oh . . . Eve.’ She stopped dead still and just looked at me, as if she wasn’t sure what I might do.

  As it was, I did nothing. I didn’t stand, didn’t rush to hug her or help her with her bags,

  didn’t say anything at all. I just sat and looked at her, waiting for her to make the first move.

  ‘Long time, no see,’ she said at last, a coldness in her voice that didn’t quite match the

  look of indecision and hesitance on her face. ‘Would you . . . um . . . like to meet your niece?’

  She turned the baby carrier around on the carpet and eased the blanket away from her

  baby’s face, bending to unstrap her and lift her free. And then she handed her to me, laid her

  gently in my open arms, and I looked at her little chubby face, so like Josh’s, and fell instantly in love.

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  CHAPTER 12

  SARAH

  I watched them very closely that evening. The embarrassed, almost shy hello, the awkward

  shaking of hands, two pairs of eyes that couldn’t quite look straight into each other’s for more than a second or two.

  ‘Josh.’

  ‘Eve. It’s good to see you. How’s life?’

  ‘Oh. Okay, you know . . .’

  Janey was still on Eve’s shoulder, asleep but dribbling frothy beads of milky spit onto

  her jumper.

  ‘Here. Let me take her. So you can drink your tea.’ Josh leaned forward and eased the

  baby away from her, and Eve wriggled her shoulders, as if they had been locked in position

  and she was finally free to move. She took her cup from the coffee table in front of her and

  sipped at it. I could tell by her expression that the tea had gone cold.

  ‘It’s been a long time.’

  I glared at Josh, urging him to stop, to leave it. Why open up old wounds? Cans of

  worms, best left undisturbed? We all knew there was an almost tangible feeling of frustrated

  held-back anger hovering in the room, and that there was a very fine line between being mature

  adults and all three of us yelling what we really felt and tearing each other’s eyes out. But he took no notice and just kept ploughing on.

  ‘A shame you live so far away. Now that Janey’s here . . .’ It all just sounded so false,

  so trite, as he gazed adoringly into Janey’s e
yes and rocked her gently in his arms and I wished that he had just once looked at me in the same way. ‘Well, it could be the time to let bygones

  be bygones, don’t you think?’

  ‘I can’t just up and move because you’ve had a baby, Josh.’ Her voice was spiky and

  her eyes glinted with the iciest of stares. ‘My home is in Wales now, and my job . . .’

  ‘I know that, but perhaps we could see more of you, even so? It’s been a long time since

  you’ve been back. Holidays and Christmases spent with friends, or on your own.’

  ‘I’ve been okay. Last Christmas with Beth and Lenny, down on his dad’s farm. And I

  went to Portugal, with Fran. You remember Fran, one of my flatmates from uni?’

  ‘Of course. But still, it doesn’t seem right, Eve. Christmas is about family.’

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  He just kept on, as if her going was nothing to do with him. Or us. As if it had never happened. I didn’t know how Eve must be feeling but I was feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

  There was only so much playing at civilised either she or I could stand. She had her reasons

  for staying away, and we all knew what they were. We hadn’t felt like family for a long time.

  I heard a key then, fumbling in the lock of the front door, followed by a mumbled swear

  word as the whole key ring fell onto the carpet, and the jangling of metal on metal as it was

  hastily retrieved. Mum half stood but soon sat down again as the living room door burst open,

  bringing a gust of cool air in from the hall.

  ‘Ah. Well, this is nice!’ Dad had finally arrived home from the office, his face

  displaying the usual last-day-before-the-break ruddiness, the tell-tale whiff of whisky hanging around him as he bent to kiss us all, in turn. ‘All my girls here together.’

  Eve, last in line as she was sitting furthest from the door, put her arms around his neck

  and hung on tightly. ‘Good to see you, Dad.’ Her eyes glistened with tears I could see she was

  fighting to control.

  ‘You too, my dear girl. Now I want to hear all the latest about that school you’re at, and

  how the flat’s coming along too, of course. Have you decorated that kitchen of yours yet? Those yellow walls gave me the heebie-jeebies!’

  So, he’d been down there then? To visit? And Mum too, probably. It was the first I’d

  heard about it. But of course they had. Eve was still the blue-eyed favourite, the one who had

  been wronged, and we all knew it.

  ‘Next on the list, Dad.’

  ‘Glad to hear it. I’m not too bad with a paintbrush, you know. Only too happy to pop

  down for a day or two and help out, while I’m off work for Christmas. Make a change from

  sitting around here stuffing my face with turkey left-overs.’

  ‘You’re always welcome, Dad, but I haven’t really decided yet when I’m going back. I

  have things to do here, people to visit. And a new niece to get to know . . .’

  She looked at me as she said that, and I was glad that whatever had gone on between

  the adults, it was not going to affect how she felt about Janey. Janey mattered now, more than

  anything or anyone. None of it was her fault, after all.

  ‘Shall we eat now?’ Mum said, a little too eagerly, wiping her hands on her apron and

  heading for the kitchen as if the decision had already been made. ‘Don’t want the chicken to

  get dry.’

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  If it had been up to me, I would have put Janey down in her car seat while we ate, but Josh was having none of it. ‘She’ll be fine here with me,’ he said, juggling cutlery in one hand and the baby in the other. I watched him struggling to cut his meat but I was too far away from him, at the opposite end of the table, to offer much help and I already knew he wouldn’t thank

  me for it if I did. I did wonder, briefly, if he was using our baby as some sort of shield, a barrier to hide behind, giving him the perfect excuse to back away from the conversation around the

  table, to focus all his attention on the one person who was not going to judge him or ask difficult questions. He was good at that, was Josh. Dodging the important stuff.

  ‘Tilly’s coming home for the holidays too, Sarah,’ Mum said, pouring extra gravy onto

  her plate. ‘Her mum says she’s bringing a friend with her. A girl she got friendly with at college.

  That’ll be nice, won’t it?’

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Tilly’s so-called friend was more than that, but I had never

  broached the topic of her apparent liking for girls with Mum. Or with Tilly, for that matter,

  although I knew the thing with Lauren James at the bakery hadn’t lasted. Lauren was now

  living quite openly with an older woman and they were adopting a child together, according to

  Eve’s friend Lucy, who’d heard rumours she was only too happy to pass on. No, despite our

  childhood friendship, Tilly and I didn’t really have a lot in common anymore, with her away,

  still studying, and me a stay-at-home wife and mother. I thought perhaps we had outgrown

  each other now we’d taken such different paths.

  ‘You could pop next door and see them both sometime before they go back.’

  I nodded, if only to keep Mum happy. ‘Maybe, yeah.’

  ‘Fancy a game of chess after dinner, Josh?’ Dad said, chasing the last Brussels sprout

  around his plate. ‘Try as I might, I’ve never managed to get anyone else around here in the

  least bit interested. Something to keep us busy, while the girls do the tree.’

  ‘Bit tired to tell you the truth, George.’ Josh yawned, theatrically, and tilted his wrist,

  peering past Janey to look at his watch. ‘I think I could do with an early night. I still have a half day at the bank tomorrow, before we close up at lunchtime.’ He peered down the table at

  me as if looking for approval, although I knew it wasn’t needed. ‘You stay longer though,

  Sarah. I know how much you’ve always enjoyed rummaging through that old box of decs.

  Janey can come back with me.’

  It was typical of Josh. I could tell that having Eve there was getting to him, especially

  as she was so clearly not about to play his game of pretending none of it had ever happened, or even to meet him halfway. Now he was looking for a way out, an escape route, coward that he

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  was. Leaving me behind to deal with it, the mess we had made together. And I knew I would have to, one way or another, or let the stupid feud go on forever. The battle over Josh had been fought and won long ago, but now we had to live with the fallout and get through Christmas,

  and I hoped Janey’s presence might turn out to be the way to do that. It was obvious Eve was

  smitten with her.

  ‘No, it’s okay. You get off if you need to. Leave Janey here with us. She’ll be needing

  a feed soon and I’m not sure there’s any expressed in the fridge. You know she prefers the real thing anyway!’ I looked down at my swollen boobs, pushing against my shiny top, and wobbled

  them around a bit, trying to make him laugh. Breasts always had been Josh’s thing, although

  his interest level had certainly dropped off since they’d turned into milking machines. The

  sooner I got Janey onto formula the better, if I had any hope of a decent sex life again.

  He didn’t react, not even a smile, just stood up and passed her to me diagonally across

  the table before draining the last of his single I’m-driving-tonight glass of wine and setting off for home. Oh, God, Josh was only twenty-six. We’d only been together five years and we had

  a whole lot of married life ahead of us. How had he got so staid and middle-aged, and so lacking in any kind of sparkle?


  I closed my eyes for a while and leaned back in my chair. I could so easily have nodded

  off, but Janey was starting to wriggle and make little distressed noises, signs that she needed her milk. I wasn’t usually shy about feeding in front of my own family, as long as I had a shawl or something to drape over us, but Eve was here and something held me back. I made an excuse

  and took Janey upstairs. I thought twice about using our old bedroom, where I could see Eve’s

  case still lay half unpacked, and went to sit on Mum and Dad’s bed instead.

  When I came back down twenty minutes later and put Janey, now full up and fast asleep,

  back into her car seat, Mum was busying herself in the kitchen, piling far too many plates into a sink full of suds. Dad had retired to his usual armchair, where he had already dozed off and

  was gently snoring, so I didn’t think chess would ever have been a real contender. And that left us sisters, Eve and me, sitting on the floor, one on each side of the decorations box, as we’d

  done so many times before, only this time we were a lot more subdued.

  ‘The fairy’s gone,’ Eve said, eventually. ‘Before you start looking for it. Mum’s bought

  a new one.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Time for a change, apparently. Now Janey’s here.’

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  I stopped running my fingers along the tangled string that held the lights, and pulled my hand away from the box, putting it gently on her arm. Well, someone had to make the first

  move. ‘And does that apply to other things too, Eve? Now that Janey’s here, can we . . . ?

  Change things between us? Start again, maybe?’ I was holding my breath, with no idea how

  she might react.

  When she turned her face towards me, I saw for the first time how much older she

  looked, and how sad.

  ‘I don’t know. I want to. I really do. You’re my sister and you’ve always meant so much

  to me, but . . . I’m just not sure that I can ever trust you again. Either of you. I was let down, cheated on, betrayed . . . by the two people who meant more to me than anyone else on earth –