No Sister of Mine (ARC)

by Vivien Brown

what I feel. It has to be about you. What’s best for you. I just want you to be happy, and being with Josh isn’t making you happy, is it? So do something about it. Please. And when you need

  me, for anything, as anything, I’ll be here. Okay?’

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  CHAPTER 23

  EVE

  Starting at a new school a term after everybody else made me feel I was constantly playing

  catch-up. Most members of staff already knew each other well, and even the two newest had

  had the months since September to get acclimatised and make sure they had found a favourite

  chair in the staff room and learned the others’ names. The children moved around the building

  as if they were on wheels, whizzing round corners, dashing from class to class, creating a quiet but constant buzz that never quite reached deafening proportions. It was like a well-established ant colony, everyone knowing exactly where they were going and what their own place was in

  the hierarchy. Except me.

  At home, life was settling down at last. Dad had gone back to work, which I felt sure

  would do him the world of good, and since Christmas Day I had seen very little of Sarah and

  absolutely nothing of Josh. A new kind of after-Mum normality was imprinting itself on our

  lives, and the start of a new year seemed to signal some sort of new beginning for all of us, one in which I had a sister and a brother-in-law, and a niece, and could finally live without the

  pangs of guilt that had been growing stronger and stronger ever since I had left my Welsh

  cocoon and come back into the family orbit. As New Year’s resolutions go, I only had one.

  There would be no looking back, no more Josh and me, just the chance to build a life without

  him. And work was the ideal way to achieve it.

  Grange Heath School was nothing like my old one. After only three weeks in the job, I

  could already see that the majority of pupils here actually wanted to learn, and had ambition

  and career plans and drive. Those in my A level English Literature classes were there because

  they had chosen to be, and really wanted to be, and there were a few potential Oxbridge

  candidates among them, if they worked hard enough to get there. The problems of apathetic

  kids and council-estate hopelessness were behind me and I was facing very different challenges

  now, trying to get the very best out of students who would be working with me and not against

  me.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Peters.’ Two girls who had stayed back after the last class of the day

  to ask questions – when had that ever happened before? – filed out and left me to gather up my

  books and papers. I was smiling, and actually humming quietly to myself, as I left the room,

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  intending to head back along the now empty corridor towards the staff room. And that was when I saw him. Arnie O’Connor.

  He was waiting on a chair outside the admin office, fiddling with a piece of paper,

  tapping his shoes nervously against the floor tiles, and staring out through the big glass doors at the front of the school. He didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular, just gazing into the distance, which meant, luckily, that he hadn’t spotted me approaching from the side.

  I stopped, trying not to let my shoes squeak, willing him not to turn round. My heart

  was racing, pounding in my chest, and for a moment I held my breath, not wanting any slight

  movement to catch his attention. It had been years since I’d last seen him, that morning he’d

  been hurrying to the station as I walked the dog, but I was sure it was him. People change, and he certainly had – shorter hair, a fatter face, definite signs of a paunch protruding from his open jacket – but not so much that they can’t be recognised. It was him all right.

  I suppose I’d expected, or hoped, that he’d be long gone by now, moved away

  somewhere, never to be seen again. No such luck.

  ‘Mr O’Connor.’ Cheryl, the school secretary, emerged from her office, smiling and

  holding out a hand to guide him. ‘Would you like to come through now?’

  I pressed myself flat against the wall, trying to make myself invisible, but I needn’t

  have bothered. He didn’t look my way, just stood and straightened his clothing before

  disappearing off through a door that quickly closed behind him.

  The last thing I wanted was to hang around and risk coming face to face with the man

  who had single-handedly, and in one drunken violent encounter, ruined my life. If it wasn’t for him I would have been more open, more loving, towards Josh when we’d first met. I would

  have discovered sex in the right way, slowly and warmly, with the man I loved, instead of

  fighting off a red-faced lech with octopus hands. I might even be married and happy and—

  I shook the thoughts away. This wasn’t the Arnie of the past. It was the Arnie of the

  present. The now Arnie. And, assuming he was here because he had connections to the school,

  quite possibly a child, or children, at the school, I was probably going to have to meet him, deal with him, even confront him, sooner or later. Not now though. For now, I would get out of the

  building and as far away from him as I could, until I had let my pulse slow down and decided

  what to do next. Because running away into the night and going into hiding miles away was

  not an option this time. I wasn’t a scared teenager anymore. I was an adult, in a position of

  authority, maybe even of power. And I could not let him put me down again.

  ***

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  ‘Not expecting anyone, are we?’ Dad said as we heard a car pull up outside. We had just finished our dinner and were enjoying our coffee in the living room, relishing the blissful

  silence created by not automatically switching on the TV as soon as we sat down, something

  Mum had always done, with a ‘Let’s just catch the News, shall we?’ that usually led to at least an hour of soaps.

  I went over to close the curtains and shut out the cold and gloom of a dark January

  evening, and peered out at the street. ‘Oh, it’s Sarah,’ I said, watching her stride purposefully up the path, which was lit only by the small lanterns on the wall to each side of the front door, and use her key.

  ‘That’s nice.’ Dad put his coffee down and started to get up from his armchair. ‘I’ll put

  the kettle back on and make her a cup.’

  But he’d only taken one pace forward when she came bursting into the room like a

  whirlwind. ‘Right, you,’ she said, pointing a finger at me. She wasn’t shouting, but somehow

  the controlled, determined way she spoke worried me a lot more than if she had been. ‘I want

  answers. And none of your lies, because I am not stupid, much as you obviously think I am. I

  do have eyes, you know.’

  For a moment, I had no idea what she was talking about, what it was I had done. Dad

  had sunk back into his chair, his mouth open in shock, and Sarah just stood and stared at me,

  as if she was waiting for me to speak.

  ‘I don’t know what—’

  ‘Yes, you do. Of course you do. And don’t you even think of skulking out of the room.

  What we have to say needs to be said. Right here, right now, so Dad can hear it too. Time he

  realised what sort of a nasty, cheating, conniving person his precious Eve really is.’

  And then I knew. Of course I did. It was written all over her tear-stained face. Sarah

  had found us out. After we had kept our secret for so long, she had found out now, when it was

  over, when I had thought we were safe, that she was safe, from ever having to know. Oh, God!

  ‘Sit do
wn, Sarah.’ Dad had found his voice. ‘I’m sure whatever this is we can resolve

  it amicably. I don’t want any unpleasantness. Your mother never—’

  ‘Mum’s not here, Dad. But if she was, I’d want her to hear this too. All the

  unpleasantness, as you call it. Every sordid little detail. Because your wonderful, caring

  daughter here –’ She grabbed my wrist and clenched it so hard her fingernails made a mark,

  and pushed me, roughly, down onto the sofa, ‘– has been sleeping with my husband.’

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  I didn’t deny it. I didn’t say anything, just shook her off me and sat biting my lip, trying to breathe as normally as my inner panic allowed.

  ‘Sarah . . .’

  ‘Oh, don’t you Sarah me. As if butter wouldn’t melt. Good old Eve, giving up her job

  and her flat and coming home to save the day, to look after Mum, and you too, Dad, and being

  all responsible and capable, taking care of all the paperwork, nosing around sorting out Mum’s

  things. Give her a bloody medal! But that’s not really why you came back, is it, Eve? You came

  back for Josh. My Josh. So you could be near enough to carry on your grubby little affair right under my nose. The same affair that you’ve been having for years. Well, at least six years, to

  my knowledge, and probably a whole lot longer. Ask her, Dad. Go on, ask her if it’s true.’

  ‘Sarah, I’m sure you’re wrong. There must be some mistake. Eve wouldn’t—’

  ‘Oh really? Wouldn’t she? Ask her then. And while you’re at it, ask her where she was

  the night Mum died.’

  We all fell silent. The thoughts churned through my mind so rapidly I hardly knew

  where to begin. Was she guessing? Bluffing? Or had she got proof? And how about Josh? Had

  she come to me first, desperate to get to the truth, or had she spoken to him already? Shoved

  him down onto a chair with the scratches from her nails all over him too? Had he denied it all?

  Confessed? Shouted, consoled, begged for forgiveness? I didn’t know what he had already

  said, and I didn’t want to be the one to tell her everything, break her heart, bring her marriage to its knees. Not if I didn’t have to, and not in front of Dad.

  ‘Well? What have you got to say for yourself?’ Dad had that voice on now, the one he

  had used when we were little, when one of us had broken a vase or been cheeky to Mum, or

  come home with a bad school report. There was no anger in it, just disappointment, which was

  a whole lot worse. ‘Is there something you want to tell me?’

  ‘You can’t deny it, Eve.’ Sarah was digging away at me again, her face just inches from

  mine. ‘Josh has told me everything. How you chased after him, got your claws in and wouldn’t

  let go.’

  I rubbed my wrist, where she had drawn blood. If anyone had claws in this family, it

  wasn’t me. Chased after him? Would he really have said that? Tried to blame it all on me? Or

  was that just Sarah’s version, the only version she could allow herself to accept?

  ‘I know all about the hotel room you were shacked up in as Mum lay here dying. I

  didn’t think you could ever sink so low, but then you always did get what you wanted, didn’t

  you?’

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  ‘Okay, yes.’ I spoke slowly, letting the truth – or a watered-down take on it – drip out of me, word by painful word. ‘Yes, I have seen Josh, from time to time. We’re old friends. We

  have a history. He came to visit me, in Wales, and I was pleased to see him. Surprised, but

  pleased. He was at a conference somewhere nearby, or so he said, but I had no idea he was

  going to turn up like that, on my doorstep. I didn’t invite him.’

  ‘You didn’t turn him away either though, did you? From your flat, or from your bed?

  How long, Eve? How long has this been going on?’

  ‘It’s not going on. I didn’t see him often. It was never meant to be a . . . well, whatever

  it was, it’s over. Finished. I finished it. Not Josh, but me. And I haven’t seen him at all since he was here with you at Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, bully for you. Did the honourable thing, did you? A shame you didn’t think of that,

  or of me and Janey, a bit sooner, eh? Because you may think you’re calling the shots here, but

  you’re not. Not anymore. He’s mine, and I am not letting him go, okay? Not to anyone, and

  certainly not to you.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to.’

  ‘Good. And don’t pretend it was some great love affair. He would have left me long

  ago if it was. No, it was just sex. Easy, on-a-plate sex. I know why you did it though. Revenge.

  That’s why. Because of what we did to you, all those years ago. I took him from you and you

  just couldn’t wait to pay me back, could you? Well, you’ve had your fun, and it’s over. And

  don’t you even think of contacting him. He doesn’t want to see you, or talk to you. And don’t

  you for one minute think he loves you, because he doesn’t, okay? We’re going to make a go of

  our marriage, despite you and your bloody games. So stay away. From Josh, and from me. And

  from Janey. Because from now on, you have no sister and you definitely have no niece. You

  may teach at her school, but you make damn sure she’s never in one of your classes. If I hear

  that she is, or that you’re trying to talk to her about anything not strictly school-related, I will come up to that school and tell the whole damn staffroom exactly what you’ve done. See how

  that goes down with all your new colleagues. What that does to your precious career, which –

  let’s be honest – is all you’ve ever cared about anyway.’

  And then she was gone, the front door slamming hard behind her, and Dad and I sat

  staring at each other, a huge gulf of hurt hanging between us like a cloud just waiting to burst.

  ‘Is it true, Eve?’ The pain in his voice was almost too hard to take.

  ‘I love him, Dad. I’ve always loved him.’

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  ‘And that’s a good enough reason is it? Where’s your self-restraint, your pride? She’s your sister. Your own sister.’ He stood up and fetched the whisky bottle, pouring himself a

  large glass before tilting the bottle in my direction, his hand shaking.

  ‘No, thanks. I’m not going to find answers in booze, am I? Oblivion maybe, which is a

  pretty attractive option right now, but . . .’

  ‘But what, Eve? I thought this family had hit rock bottom when we lost your mum, but

  this is about as low as things can get. I’m just glad she’s not here to hear any of it, and me

  wishing she wasn’t around is not something I ever thought would happen. Is it over? Between

  you and him? Really? Or is that just what you told her?’

  ‘It’s been over for weeks, Dad. I had thought – hoped – nobody need ever know. And,

  no, I’m not proud of myself, you’re right there. While I was so far away, I could tell myself I wasn’t hurting anyone, but coming back here made it feel very real all of a sudden. And sordid.

  Not what I wanted anymore. Oh God, do you think she really has had it all out with him? Have

  they really decided to stick together? Or is she just saying that to keep me away?’

  ‘So you’re calling your sister a liar now, are you? That’s a bit rich coming from you.

  And as for how they decide to go on from here, that’s not your business, is it? Or mine, for that matter. I just hope, for our little Janey’s sake, that they can mend this, one way or another. But I’m not going to find it easy to forgive the damage you’ve done, Eve. And I’m damn sure Sarah

 
; isn’t either. I think perhaps the sooner you find yourself a place to live the better. The last thing I want is for Sarah to stay away from this house because you’re here. Or to keep Janey away. I

  love that little girl, and right now I want to see her a damn sight more than I want to see you.’

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  CHAPTER 24

  SARAH

  Josh and I moved through our lives like fish swimming side by side, usually in the same general direction but separated by invisible water and rarely touching. Sadly I was not blessed with the three-second memory they say fish have, and thoughts of what they had done, and more

  importantly, what they might have felt, or continued to feel, for each other, kept me awake at

  night.

  Josh had no idea what I had discovered, no idea I had confronted Eve, or that I knew

  all about their affair. Why hadn’t I told him? Yelled at him? Insisted he tell me everything and promise it was over? Partly fear of where it would all lead, I suppose, but also partly, I had to admit now, because I no longer really cared enough about what he did to risk losing everything

  I had. This was not love, this was marriage, and the two did not necessarily go together like a horse and carriage, no matter what that old song might say. If what Eve had told me was true,

  that she had been the one to develop a conscience and end things between them, then perhaps

  he was still angry with her, or still hurting, or still hopeful of a reconciliation. I had no idea which way his thinking might go, no idea what he felt, but it was not the right time to rock the boat, in case it was me who fell overboard, so I was not going to ask.

  I saw Eve as little as possible, and watched Josh like a hawk, checking his stories for

  lies, his document case for suspicious bills, his phone for any evidence of contact. It was no

  way to live.

  ***

  When Eve moved out of Dad’s, I was pleased. I would be able to visit him whenever I liked

  without the risk of bumping into her. Sticking to calling round in school hours, when I knew

  she would be at work, was all very well, but it meant Janey got to see so little of her granddad and trying to make up excuses for why she hadn’t seen her auntie in ages was becoming