The Forgotten Sister

by Nicola Cornick

  Lizzie took a deep breath. ‘I think you must be very upset to be talking like this, Duds,’ she said carefully. ‘You know you can say anything to me and I’ll never repeat it, but…’ She went over to him and took his hands in hers. ‘Even if you didn’t love Amelia any more it’s still a tragedy that she died so horribly. People will expect you at least to express sincere regret over that—’

  Dudley shook off her touch. ‘All I know is I’m losing everything,’ he said. ‘Everything! And you’re just like everyone else – you won’t help me.’ He threw himself back down on the sofa and looked at her with dark, pleading eyes. ‘Please, Lizzie. Help me.’

  ‘I am trying to help you.’ Lizzie sat down beside him. ‘I’m always here for you if you need to talk, Dudley, but…’ She hesitated. She didn’t want to be too harsh in case she sent Dudley spinning off into another rant. He had always been mercurial but his self-absorption was truly shocking.

  ‘Sorry.’ Dudley dropped his head into his hands. When he looked up Lizzie saw tears in his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Lizzie. I didn’t mean it. I’m not myself. That little shit Johnny Robsart came looking for me last night, making threats, saying all kinds of things. I had to report him to the police. This whole business has been awful for me—’

  ‘Wait…’ Lizzie raised a hand to stem the flow of words. ‘You reported Amelia’s little brother to the police?’

  ‘He was off his head,’ Dudley said plaintively. ‘He accused me of wanting her dead, of pushing her down the stairs. I thought he might be dangerous so I called the police.’

  ‘He’s seventeen years old, Dudley,’ Lizzie said furiously, ‘and his sister’s just died. Couldn’t you have been a bit more sensitive?’

  Dudley shrugged. ‘They should lock him into the loony bin,’ he said. ‘Best place for him. He’s such an emo kid, totally out of it. He’s always been like that, ever since I’ve known him, always talking weird stuff and appearing and disappearing like a ghost. I remember once at Oakhangar he and Amelia were playing some trick where he vanished like it was magic. So childish but they thought it was funny. She was as bad as he was.’ He caught Lizzie’s eye and spread his hands wide in a gesture of innocence. ‘What are you looking at me like that for? If they section him, he’ll get help there, won’t he?’

  Lizzie shook her head and turned away. She felt so tired; tired of Dudley’s volatility and self-obsession, tired in an odd way that she had stuck by him because she had known all along that he could be shallow but she had hoped he was better than this. She had believed he was. This self-pity had to be a reaction to grief.

  ‘Dudley,’ she said. ‘Go home. Go to sleep. This isn’t you talking. You need to calm down, give yourself time to grieve—’

  ‘I’m not sitting at home on my own,’ Dudley said. ‘It’s the pits. Come out with me, Lizzie.’ With the mercurial suddenness of which he was capable Dudley was smiling, exuding charm again. He leaped up to grab her hands and pulled her towards the door. ‘Let’s go to a club, somewhere private, quiet. Hell, I could do with drowning my sorrows.’ He looked hopeful, boyish.

  Lizzie hung back. ‘Duds, is that really a good idea? Amelia only died two days ago. Like it or not you’re under police investigation. You can’t—’ She stopped, seeing the frown descend on his brow again. ‘People would find out,’ she said, ‘even if we went somewhere quiet. And if I came with you there would be even more talk.’

  ‘Like I give a shit,’ Dudley said. He tugged on her hands again. He’d stopped smiling. ‘They’re going to have to get used to it, aren’t they? We can be together now.’

  It took Lizzie a moment to realise what he meant and when she did, she felt as though she had stepped off a cliff edge into the dark.

  ‘What? No!’ She freed herself from Dudley’s grip, taking such a hurried step back that she almost tripped over the table leg. ‘We’re friends, Dudley, nothing more! I mean—’ Shock and panic raced through her. ‘We’ve been friends for ever and it’s great but I don’t want…’ She gulped. ‘Surely you knew, I mean, I thought you felt the same…’ She stopped. Dudley was wearing what she privately thought of as his winsome look, the one that told interviewers and fans that he knew he was irresistible but he was going to pretend to be modest about it.

  ‘It’s OK, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘I understand. I know it’s too soon. I guess I’ve had time to think about it because Amelia and I were divorcing, but I guess you’d prefer to wait a while before we get together—’

  Lizzie threw up her hands. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Stop.’ She looked at him, saw the self-satisfaction on his face, and realised afresh what she already knew. No one had ever turned Dudley Lester down. He simply could not believe it would happen.

  ‘I thought that what we had was different,’ she said slowly. ‘We’re childhood friends, Duds. I think of you like a brother, like you’re my best friend, and that’s special. But it’s not…’ She struggled. ‘It’s not romantic. It was never like that. It was better than that. To change it would spoil everything—’ She rubbed a hand across her forehead. ‘Oh God, I’m doing this all wrong! I know I am. I really like you, Dudley. You’re incredibly important to me. But—’

  Dudley’s face had darkened as she was speaking. She knew she was making a terrible mess of everything. She’d never expected to be in this situation with Dudley of all people. She thought they understood each other. She felt disoriented and shocked to have got it so wrong. ‘This isn’t the time to talk about it,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s late and I’ve got to work tomorrow. I’m doing an orienteering event with kids from St Giles School. I need an early night.’

  ‘Orienteering?’ Dudley looked at her, brows arched. ‘Because you’re, like, really interested in the outdoors?’

  ‘It’s a charity thing for Life Changers,’ Lizzie said defensively. ‘I’m an ambassador for them—’

  ‘Yeah, that figures,’ Dudley said. ‘Because you’re a perpetual child yourself.’ He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘I’m going to Mackenzie’s. Perhaps I’ll see you around. If not…’ He shrugged.

  The door slammed behind him. Shit. Lizzie resisted the urge to call him back or grab a quick change of outfit and head out after him. It was habit, ingrained in her, to look out for him. Even now, when she was reeling at how badly she had misread their relationship, she was still taking responsibility for him.

  She scrubbed her hands through her hair in exasperation. She knew exactly what would happen if she did go after him. Dudley would be thrilled to see her, as though their quarrel had never happened. Perhaps he’d interpret it as her changing her mind, succumbing to his irresistible charm. She pulled a face. On the other hand, if she didn’t go, he would get drunk and get himself into deeper trouble, generate more headlines, probably end up in jail.

  Lizzie walked through to her bedroom. The flat, so spacious and open in design, suddenly seemed claustrophobic, almost like a prison. She needed to get away. She was gripped by something almost like desperation. She needed to make a break from Dudley and from the life that he represented; the shallow, high-profile celebrity-driven world that she’d inhabited for as long as she could remember. She had no idea where she could go, though, or what she might do. It was a terrifying thought, as though she wanted to throw away the compass of her life and start over – and she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to do that. For a moment she was tempted to reach for the concert programme as she had done that morning, and conjure up memories of her mother to soothe and comfort her, but that felt wrong as though she were overusing the gift. Instead she lay down on the bed listening to the traffic and the sirens, and thinking about Dudley reporting Johnny to the police for harassment. It must have been directly after that that Johnny had come looking for her. No wonder Arthur had been so protective of his little brother; he must have been afraid she would complain too and that they would take Johnny away.

  With a muttered curse she sat up again. She needed to find Dudley and try and talk some sense i
nto him before he did something even more stupid or hurtful.

  She threw on some clothes, took the first jacket that was hanging in the closet, picked up her bag, checked her purse and keys and went out. Down in the foyer, Jason looked up from the desk with a frown between his brows.

  ‘I’m going out,’ Lizzie said, then felt annoyed with herself. Since when had she had to explain herself to everyone? Was that another habit she had somehow got into, accounting to Bill and Kat and everyone else for her life, ostensibly the one in control, definitely the one earning the money, and yet dancing to their tune?

  ‘You’re a perpetual child…’

  She knew that Dudley’s words had been intended to sting because she had rejected him and wounded his pride. She wondered if he really cared for her or whether his suggestion that they should be together was just another way for him to use her. Suddenly nothing seemed certain any more. When had her judgement become so faulty?

  The taxi dropped her directly outside the discreet members’ entrance of Mackenzie’s Bar and a doorman came forward to meet her. It was raining now, the London lights reflected in streaky patterns on the wet roads and pavements. Music pulsed from the building. As she ducked under the proffered umbrella and reached the slightly damp red carpet, she saw Arthur Robsart was in the doorway. Great, his massive disapproval was all she needed to make the evening even worse.

  ‘I’d be grateful if you could let me in,’ he was saying. ‘It’s an emergency. I need to find my brother-in-law urgently—’

  Arthur was looking for Dudley? Lizzie felt a trickle of anxiety down her back. Dudley had said that he’d reported Johnny to the police only the day before. She couldn’t imagine that Arthur would be looking for him to thank him.

  She realised there was a way to find out.

  She touched Arthur’s arm very lightly. This time she was braced for the shock but she wasn’t sure Arthur was. He spun around as though he’d been burned.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir.’ The doorman was deferential even when he was refusing entry. ‘Members only—’

  ‘He’s with me,’ Lizzie said. She steered Arthur inside and after a second felt the rigid tension in his arm relax a little. The door closed behind them, cocooning them in the warm opulence of the hall. Arthur leaned close to her. His breath stirred the tendrils of hair against her cheek.

  ‘You’ve got to stop doing that,’ he said.

  ‘I was trying to help,’ Lizzie said. ‘You said it was an emergency.’

  Arthur’s gaze searched her face. It was odd; when she wasn’t touching him she couldn’t read his thoughts at all. He had inscrutability down to a fine art. The contrast between the intimacy of reading him and the true distance between them was deeply disconcerting.

  ‘What did you see?’ Arthur said. ‘What did you see when you touched me?’ Lizzie couldn’t read his tone either but his words alone made her shiver.

  ‘There’s no point pretending it doesn’t happen,’ Arthur said, when she didn’t immediately reply. ‘We both know it does.’

  ‘OK,’ Lizzie said. She cleared her throat. ‘It’s just so… weird.’

  ‘Granted,’ Arthur said drily. ‘Perhaps we can have a chat about it sometime. For now, though, what did you see?’

  Lizzie paused for a moment, analysing the emotions she had sensed in him and trying to form them into words. ‘You’re looking for Johnny,’ she said. ‘He’s… disappeared. You think he might be trying to find Dudley. You’re afraid for him.’ She could feel that fear, visceral and raw. Arthur knew exactly how vulnerable and alone his brother was feeling and he wanted desperately to protect him. Lizzie understood that urgency and envied the closeness of the bond that had produced it. ‘You’re hoping Dudley might know where he is,’ she added. ‘That’s why you’re here.’

  Arthur nodded slowly. ‘Spot on,’ he said. ‘That really is uncanny.’

  A waiter brushed past them, looking curiously at the two of them. ‘Come on,’ Lizzie said. ‘Dudley’s probably in the VIP bar downstairs. It’s where he tends to hang out. Though I doubt he’ll be of much help,’ she added, remembering what Dudley had said about Johnny earlier. ‘He and Johnny don’t exactly get on, do they?’

  ‘I’ve checked everywhere else I can think of,’ Arthur said grimly, and again Lizzie felt the razor-sharp edge of anxiety beneath his words. ‘Dudley’s my last hope. Not that I expected to have to accost him in a club. Not two days after Amelia died.’ Once again, Lizzie could sense the anger and disgust in him, held under tight control. ‘I had to search the celebrity gossip online to find out where he was likely to be. Can you believe that?’ He broke off. ‘Yes, of course you can.’ He shook his head sharply. ‘You probably came here to spend the evening with him.’

  ‘Less of the judging please,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’m helping you, remember?’ She didn’t even bother trying to explain to Arthur why she was looking for Dudley herself. ‘Let’s hope he knows something,’ she said. ‘And that you won’t end up punching him.’

  She saw Arthur smile. ‘I have more self-control than that, and certainly more than Dudley has.’

  Lizzie didn’t doubt it. ‘You really don’t like Dudley, do you?’ she said. ‘By which I mean you hate him.’ The power of the antagonism she sensed in him shocked her. She knew Dudley would hardly be Arthur’s favourite person but it felt as though there was something very dark and complicated here.

  Arthur raised his brows. ‘You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that,’ he said curtly.

  They went down the white staircase, past the twirling statue of a mermaid on a unicorn, into the aquatic-themed cellar bar. A few people nodded and called out a greeting to Lizzie. People were looking at Arthur as they passed, probably because he was so good-looking but also, Lizzie suspected, because they were wondering where they had seen him before. Most of them wouldn’t remember. The world of celebrity had a high turnover.

  The bar was only half full and a quick check proved that Dudley wasn’t there. Lizzie followed the insistent thud of the beat towards the dancefloor but couldn’t see him there either.

  ‘The guy behind the bar says Dudley hasn’t been in tonight,’ Arthur said, joining her, his gaze fixed on the swaying dancers. His shoulder brushed Lizzie’s. She felt acutely aware of him and wasn’t sure whether it was the intimate darkness or the pulse of the music that was influencing her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, as they made their way back through the bar. ‘It was a long shot.’

  ‘Dudley told you he’d be here, though,’ Arthur said, and it wasn’t a question. ‘You expected to find him.’

  Lizzie stopped. They looked at one another. ‘OK,’ she said after a moment, ‘evidently I’m not the only one who can read minds.’

  She thought Arthur almost smiled. ‘It was an educated guess,’ he said, ‘no more. I don’t share your gift.’

  ‘All right,’ Lizzie said, sighing. ‘I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d make another of your judgemental comments, that’s all. Dudley was round at my flat earlier and he mentioned he was coming on here. I guess he changed his mind. I didn’t come here to party with him,’ she added, hating that she was explaining herself. ‘I just thought… I thought he wasn’t doing himself any favours by being so crassly insensitive at a time like this and I wanted to try and persuade him to go home.’

  ‘That’s hardly your responsibility,’ Arthur said, holding the door open for her as they exited the bar and started back up the stairs.

  ‘No,’ Lizzie admitted.

  ‘I’m looking out for Johnny because he’s my brother, he’s seventeen and I’ve looked out for him all my life,’ Arthur said. ‘Whereas you and Dudley—’

  ‘There is no me and Dudley,’ Lizzie snapped. ‘I was trying to be a friend, that’s all.’

  Arthur was silent.

  ‘Look,’ Lizzie said, as they reached the top of the steps and were standing once again under the huge central chandelier in the hall. She fumbled for her phone, pulling
it out of her pocket. ‘I know this is important so I’ll give Dudley a call—’

  Arthur’s hand closed over hers on the phone. ‘Why?’ he said. ‘Why would you care?’

  ‘God, you make things difficult,’ Lizzie said. She stared up defiantly into his eyes. ‘I care about Johnny because it’s clear he’s desperately unhappy,’ she said, ‘and I understand how horrible it feels to lose someone close to you, especially when you’re so young and you’ve already gone through so much—’ She stopped dead, aware that she was revealing far too much about herself to someone who was practically a stranger, and an unsympathetic one at that.

  Arthur let go of her hand. Still holding his gaze very deliberately, Lizzie flipped open the phone and dialled Dudley’s number. There was no reply.

  ‘He’s probably blocking me,’ she said, after she’d let it ring twenty times. ‘Dudley and I aren’t exactly on good terms at the moment.’ She shrugged, sliding the phone back into her pocket. Dudley’s tantrums were only an irritant compared to what Johnny might do in the extremity of his misery. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help,’ she added. ‘I don’t really know what else to suggest.’

  ‘Thank you anyway,’ Arthur said. He looked suddenly tired. Lizzie had to repress the urge to reach out and offer comfort. Hell, she was in a mess.

  ‘Would you let me know when you find Johnny?’ she asked, a little awkwardly. ‘I’d like to know he’s safe.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Arthur said quietly. They stood for a moment longer in silence whilst the distant thud of the music made the floor vibrate and nearer at hand a drunken couple fell out of a doorway amidst shrieks of laughter.

  ‘Time to go,’ Lizzie said.

  They went out into the London night. The rain had grown heavier, streaking the pavements and reflecting the streetlights in flat black puddles. It was almost two o’clock.

  ‘Can I give you a lift?’ Arthur asked.

  ‘That’s OK, thanks.’ Lizzie smiled at him, feeling less vulnerable now they were saying goodbye. ‘The doorman will call a taxi for me. Anyway, I imagine you’re keen to head off and look for Johnny, so…’