We Are Family

by Nicola Gill

  ‘Look, not everyone wants a husband like yours,’ Laura continued.

  ‘A husband like mine?’ Jess snapped. ‘What, a man who doesn’t ride a sodding scooter around London? A man with a job?’ Her voice had risen over the sound of the panpipe music and women from surrounding loungers were peeking over the top of their magazines or opening one eye. Even Dead Lady stirred.

  ‘I like that Jon rides a scooter.’ She couldn’t say she liked him not having a job.

  Jess sighed and snapped her magazine shut. ‘I’m getting in the jacuzzi.’

  Laura lay back on the bed, seething. She was fed up to the back teeth with being judged all the time. Wasn’t the whole point of family that they were supposed to love you unconditionally?

  She got up and stomped over to the jacuzzi. ‘Jon is a good dad.’

  Jess snorted.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘No, go on,’ Laura said, climbing into the water. ‘If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.’

  Jess stayed maddeningly quiet and closed her eyes as if to shut Laura out.

  ‘Jon adores Billy,’ Laura said.

  Jess opened her eyes, sighing. ‘I’m sure he does. But it’s not enough.’

  ‘What do you mean, “not enough”? It’s everything. Just because we don’t have an Instagram-perfect home like StyleMaven—’

  ‘You don’t need to snipe at me.’

  Was Laura sniping? She supposed she was. Well, too bad. If Jess could dish it out she could bloody well take it too.

  ‘Anyway, it’s not about having a perfect home. It’s about Jon changing now he’s a parent.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t want him to change?’

  ‘What, you don’t want him to stop getting pissed every night? You don’t want him to bring in some money?’

  ‘Money isn’t everything,’ Laura spat. ‘I’ve told you before, you know nothing about my relationship with Jon.’

  A tiny, barefooted member of staff came over and asked them if they would mind keeping their voices down. This was a relaxation area, she said, smiling.

  ‘I’m so embarrassed!’ Jess hissed at Laura as the woman walked away.

  ‘Course you are,’ Laura said. ‘You’re all about what other people think.’ It was a cheap shot, particularly since she was also embarrassed that the pair of them had been told off like two naughty schoolgirls.

  They fell into a tense silence. Laura was too hot and would have liked to have got out of the jacuzzi but she didn’t want to give Jess a close up of her cellulite so she stayed in the bubbling water, feeling sweaty and cross.

  By lunchtime, they were talking to each other again but only in a ‘isn’t this miso-salmon delicious’ sense. And Laura couldn’t stop looking at the necklace.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to upset you earlier,’ Jess suddenly said. ‘About Jon.’

  Laura took a sip of cucumber water. Jess had this way of apologizing without really apologizing. She’d been the same when they were kids. Sorry if it upset you that I got you into trouble with Mum. Sorry if you didn’t like me borrowing your new shoes without asking. Sorry if it’s annoying that every single teacher asks you if you’re Jess’ little sister. ‘Let’s not talk about it.’

  ‘I just want the best for you.’

  Laura smiled tightly. Jon was what was best for her. And Billy. Okay, Jon wasn’t perfect, but who was? (Jess – perfect bloody Jess.)

  When Jess went off to her massage, Laura lay back on the recliner and tried to relax.

  The Sunday before the funeral, she had got up early to go to buy suits for Jon and Billy. Both of them had been asleep when she left. When she got home, Billy’s thumb was bandaged. When she had asked Billy what had happened, he said he’d been trying to get himself some breakfast because Daddy was still sleeping, but he’d cut his finger trying to slice the bread. And Laura hadn’t said anything to Jon but inside she’d been furious. Because she knew Jon loved his son in a ‘I’d stand in front of a moving train’ type of way, but she just wished he loved him in a ‘get up before 10 a.m.’ sort of way.

  A soft-voiced woman approached and asked if she’d like more ginger tea. She shook her head. She was sick of bloody ginger tea.

  Perhaps Jess was right about Jon?

  Laura shook her head and sighed. No, of course Jess wasn’t right.

  By the time Laura went for her massage, her mind was doing somersaults. In all fairness to Jon, it was her that had changed. He was just how he’d been when she met him ten years ago. Back then, she’d loved that he was such a free spirit. She still loved that. Didn’t she?

  ‘There’s a lot of tension in your neck and shoulders,’ the masseuse said.

  Laura sighed. Tried to calm her mind. She really should be enjoying today. A place like this might be a normal part of Jess’ life but it certainly wasn’t a normal part of hers.

  The masseuse had asked her which oil she preferred and she’d chosen rose but now the cloying sickliness was making her feel faintly nauseous.

  As Laura and Jess got changed back into their clothes, Laura thanked Jess for bringing her and said it had been a very relaxing day. And then, before she could stop herself, she asked Jess when Mum had given her the necklace.

  Jess’ hands fluttered to her throat. ‘When she was in the hospice. Why?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just wondered.’

  ‘Wondered what, Laura? Were you just checking I didn’t take it off Mum’s dead body before you got to the hospice?’

  The woman who was putting her make-up on a few feet away looked as if her eyes were about to pop out of her head.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Laura hissed.

  Jess brushed her hair in the mirror. ‘Mum gave it to me.’

  ‘Well, of course she did.’

  Jess sighed, took off the necklace and threw it at Laura. ‘Here, take the bloody thing.’

  ‘You’re being a baby!’

  ‘I’M BEING A BABY?’ Jess yelled. ‘I’M BEING A BABY?’

  The whole changing room was openly staring at the pair of them now. Hair straighteners and mascara wands had been put down and heads had swivelled to watch the show. But Laura couldn’t have cared less. She was suddenly boiling with rage. This was just what she hated about her sister: the total, utter conviction that she was right all the time. The insufferable smugness! ‘DIDN’T YOU THINK IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE TO AT LEAST ASK ME IF I’D HAVE LIKED IT?’

  Jess pointed at the floor. ‘I’VE GIVEN YOU THE BLOODY NECKLACE, HAVEN’T I? WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?’

  ‘I’LL TELL Y—’ But Laura was interrupted by the arrival of a grave-faced woman in uniform.

  ‘Ladies,’ she said in a voice so soft you almost had to lean forward to hear her. ‘The Sabai Spa is a place for rest and relaxation. It’s a place of calm and tranquillity—’

  ‘Tell her that,’ Laura said, gesturing towards Jess.

  ‘You started this,’ Jess said.

  The soft-voiced lady looked them up and down. ‘I think I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Laura had absolutely, definitely vowed to never bring out MsRealityCheck again. But that was before her sister humiliated her in front of all those people and got them chucked out of the Sabai Day Spa. All Laura had done was ask her when Mum had given her the necklace. Jess absolutely did NOT have to make a huge scene over it. And in front of all those people too.

  Laura sat on the bus, fizzing with irritation. Jess was so bloody sure she was right all the time and God help anyone who questioned her. Once, when they were kids, she’d thrown a giant hissy fit because Mum had accused her of eating all the nice chocolates from the Milk Tray box and Jess had flipped out. And, okay, that time it had been Laura who had devoured the hazelnut clusters and praline crisps, but did Jess have to get in such a fit about just being asked? Like she was so used to being Mum’s treasured favourite that
she couldn’t bear that anyone might think she’d done something wrong.

  Laura typed ‘StyleMaven’ into her phone. MsRealityCheck was going to leave a comment on one of Jess’ articles that would really get to her. It didn’t matter what article it was.

  She scrolled through the posts. The Rules of Shopping the Sales.

  The rules? For goodness’ sake!

  Hats Off: How to Rock a Beanie. How To Fall In Love With Yourself This February.

  The other thing that had really tipped Laura over the edge this evening (as if being screamed at in public when you were just wearing your bra and pants wasn’t bad enough) was Jess’ remark outside the spa. ‘Well, that was money well spent!’

  How dare she try to make Laura feel guilty? First of all, Laura had repeatedly turned down the offer to go but Jess had talked her into it, and secondly it was her who went for the jugular just because Laura had asked her a perfectly polite question about the necklace (which was the reaction of someone who felt guilty, now Laura came to think of it).

  She heard Jess’ voice in her head: Well, that was money well spent!

  Well, right back atcha with the snide little comments, Laura thought, immediately starting to type as MsRealityCheck.

  But then, midway through a sentence, she suddenly stopped. Was this who she was now?

  She deleted what she’d written. She may be furious with her sister but that did not mean that trolling her was okay.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Laura was wrestling to get the bag out of the bin; far too much rubbish had been wedged into it, flattened down by lazy palms. Jon’s lazy palms. He never emptied the bin. She didn’t ask much, for Christ’s sake. The least he could do was take out the rubbish.

  She finally pulled the bin bag loose but the force made it split all the way down the side and ooze its contents all over the kitchen floor. She felt tears of frustration spring to her eyes.

  She’d been feeling snappy and irritable all day. When a man on the train that morning had said a loud ‘ah-tishoo’ every time he sneezed, she’d wanted to punch him.

  Then she’d got to work and found that Dani needed her to magic up a couple of extra pages out of thin air because the sales team hadn’t sold all their pages. Oh, and she ‘wasn’t really feeling’ the pics for the ‘Cancer gave me the love of my life’ story. Also, could Laura look after the socials that week? It had been her turn when she’d been on compassionate leave but of course she’d missed it. And there were so many things that Laura wanted to say, like how could she possibly fit in ONE MORE BLOODY THING, and why call it ‘compassionate’ leave and then make someone feel bad about it. But of course she just said yes.

  Laura picked the remnants of fish fingers and baked beans off the kitchen floor. She’d told Jon a million times that they were supposed to use the food waste bin for food. Just like she’d told him to empty the bin, not overfill it.

  Gareth from Sales had been loudly exuberant when she’d bumped into him in the canteen. ‘Guess what,’ he said. ‘We’re pregnant!’

  Laura had pinned a smile to her face. Resisted the urge to say he wasn’t pregnant. Unless he was a seahorse.

  On her way home, she had just missed the train and then, when she finally got on the next one, had to stand the whole way back. She just had to hope the stagey sneezer didn’t get on the train because, if he did, she wasn’t sure she could be responsible for her actions.

  She got a new bin bag out of the cupboard and started stuffing what was left of the old bag into it.

  When she got home, she had barely taken off her coat when Jon had said he and Jimmy were going to have a quick pint. As if Billy was a baton in a relay race and it was her turn now. Then Amy messaged and asked if there was any way Laura could have Josh for an hour. Laura wanted to say, ‘Again?’ but of course she’d said yes instead, because it must be hard being a single mum. Amy was gone for nearly two hours which meant that Laura was late getting Billy ready for bed and he had a meltdown about brushing his teeth.

  She scooped an escaped wodge of dirty kitchen roll off the floor. It occurred to her vaguely that it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Or as Jon described it the ‘saddest night of the year, where couples who don’t like each other pay a small fortune to ignore each other in restaurants and eat overpriced heart-shaped food.’

  Her phone rang and Laura saw it was Jess. Her finger hovered over the green button. It had been nearly a week since their row at the day spa. Goodness, the pair of them had behaved badly. Laura was hot with shame just thinking about the look on the woman’s face when she’d asked them to leave. Laura had gone to pick up the phone to call Jess several times to apologize but then not actually done it. She couldn’t cope with her sister tonight though.

  ‘Hey,’ Jon said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. He was swaying slightly and she could smell the beer coming off him from where she was crouched over the escaped rubbish.

  ‘You didn’t empty the bin.’

  His face scrunched. ‘What? Oh, soz.’

  He didn’t sound terribly ‘soz’. And what kind of a grown man says ‘soz’ anyway?

  ‘I’m going to go and watch the footie.’

  ‘Can you take this rubbish out first please?’ She didn’t like her voice, which had gone all prissy and schoolmarmish.

  ‘I’ll do it later.’

  ‘No! You always say you’ll do it later and you never do.’

  Jon was staring at her as if she was nuts.

  ‘We need to talk, Jon.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Laura wasn’t sure how they’d got from arguing about the bin to splitting up in what seemed like about three and half seconds, but somehow, they’d managed it.

  They were shut away in the bedroom screaming at each other (thank goodness Billy was a deep sleeper) and now Jon was stuffing things into a suitcase.

  Laura knew she should probably say ‘Don’t go’ but somehow the words stayed buried in her chest.

  Jon swore as he tried in vain to shut the case.

  She should never have tried to talk to him when he was so pissed. Then again, he was nearly always pissed, so when else was she supposed to talk to him?

  He was pulling things out of the case now, hurling underpants and socks and T shirts aside. He stomped off into the kitchen and retuned with a couple of black bin bags. They were becoming something of a leitmotif for the evening.

  All Laura had intended to say was that it would be a good idea if he got a job, but somehow that had spiralled into an altogether different conversation: Was she saying he was a bad father? Why didn’t she support his writing? Had her bloody sister been putting ideas into her head?

  Low blows had been slung: Was she behaving this way because of her mother dying? Was she even that sad about her mother dying?

  She responded in kind, or to be more accurate, unkind: He was never going to finish his novel. The idea sounded shit anyway.

  Jon stuffed things into the bin bags, which were clearly to be used as his overflow suitcase. He reached for the faded blue T shirt he’d worn when Laura was in labour and she almost threw her arms around him and told him to stay. He’d been fantastic when she was having Billy. Well, not at first when he was in the pub with Jimmy and he missed the sound of his mobile ringing (even though he knew she was over her due date and should have been keeping an eye on it), but when he had finally turned up at the hospital. He’d made her laugh within a few minutes of getting through the door, even though she was cross with him and even though she didn’t much feel like laughing at the time. And then, when Jon was handed this bright purple bundle covered in what looked like a layer of goose fat, his face had just shone with this intense and palpable love.

  ‘Where are you going to go?’ she said.

  ‘Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I’ll probably go to Jimmy’s. At least he’s not fucking insane.’

  ‘It’s not insane to want your partner to earn a living, Jon.’

  He shook his
head. His face was a mask of confusion and, in many ways, Laura couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he could have seen this coming. Hell, she hadn’t seen it coming – she’d had no plans to dump him, and yet here she was somehow doing exactly that. What was it they said in Good Grief about not making any big changes when you were recently bereaved? Hey ho, it wasn’t the first time in her life Laura had ignored a perfectly sensible piece of advice.

  Jon picked up his suitcase and his bulging bin bags. ‘The woman I fell in love with was a crazy, bohemian creative.’

  Laura couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him, really. Because she had changed. When they first met, all those years ago, Laura didn’t give a damn about money or mess. If they had an argument then, it was because she wanted to stay out all night dancing again. Once, someone had given them tickets to Glasto at the last minute and Laura had been in their battered old Renault 5 in a matter of minutes, without so much as a change of pants.

  He was looking at her with a mixture of confusion and disgust: a man mis-sold a pension. ‘What the hell happened to you?’

  ‘I grew up.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Not only did Laura have to cope with waking up newly single on Valentine’s Day, but Billy, to whom she hadn’t said a word to about what had happened, was for some reason acting properly furious with her.

  At breakfast he wouldn’t eat his Cheerios or drink his milk. Laura gave him a signed form to put in his book bag for his teacher and he just scratched his head and scowled at her.

  Laura swigged Gaviscon and examined his small, angry face. Jon was rarely up before Billy went to school and it wasn’t unprecedented for him to crash at Jimmy’s (usually because he was pissed), so Billy should have readily accepted her explanation about why there was no warm lump on Jon’s side of the bed: Daddy stayed at Uncle Jimmy’s last night.

  At the school gates, Billy allowed her to kiss him goodbye.

  ‘It’ll be me picking you up today.’ She hadn’t talked to Jon about this last night – well, you don’t discuss childcare arrangements in the middle of a row, do you? – so safest to assume she’d pick Billy up, although goodness knows how she’d explain having to leave work early.