The Lost Sister

by Tracy Buchanan

  By the time the weekend arrived, it was time to meet up with Becky in the seafront café. At first, I thought Mike and Becky wouldn’t turn up, but then I saw them approaching from the road in the distance. I smoothed my hair down, suddenly nervous. I wanted things to be as normal as possible for Becky but, the fact was, Mike and I were fighting for her, both desperate to present ourselves as the perfect parents. I could see it in the way Mike was dressed, smarter than usual in chinos and a white T-shirt. When they got to me, Becky seemed hesitant to come to me initially, Mike avoiding my gaze as he stubbornly crossed his arms.

  ‘Come on then, say hello!’ I said, opening my arms to my daughter.

  Becky took a step towards me then smiled, jogging the rest of the way and throwing herself into my arms. I felt a surge of relief. The thought she might not have wanted to be cuddled by me would have thrown me into a spin of negativity. But of course she’d be confused, reluctant at first. As long as she quickly got over that and was in my arms, all would be fine.

  ‘Here, I got you something,’ I said, excitedly pulling out a book I’d found in one of the local charity shops about caves.

  Mike rolled his eyes.

  ‘Thanks!’ Becky said.

  ‘I’ll see you here at six then, Mike?’ I said in as bright a voice as I could muster.

  Mike’s jaw twitched, his hands clenching and unclenching as he struggled to contain his anger. He leaned down and gave Becky a quick peck on the cheek.

  ‘I’ve booked more time off work by the way,’ he said, hardly able to look at me. ‘It’s something we’ll need to discuss, how we approach things like the half-terms.’

  ‘Oh, I see. So I’m not an abduction risk any more, am I?’

  Becky frowned and I inwardly kicked myself. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t stoop to Mike’s level.

  ‘You have a good solicitor, that’s all I’m going to say,’ Mike countered. He went to walk off then he paused, turning back to me. ‘Exactly how are you paying for your solicitor by the way? You haven’t touched our savings so I presume you have some money hidden away somewhere.’

  I paused. The truth was, I had a small savings account I hadn’t told Mike about. It was my only form of financial independence. Maybe in the back of my mind, I’d known the day would come when I’d need it. It wasn’t much, just a few thousand pounds, but the solicitor fees were already draining a chunk of it and soon it would run out. The salary I’d get paid in a few days would quickly get sucked up with bills. The thought of work made me sick. I’d managed to delay my return until the week after next, calling my boss from a payphone in town to explain what had happened with me and Mike, but the idea of returning filled me with doom. I needed to talk to Mike about selling the house, I’d be free of any financial ties then. Maybe I wouldn’t need a job until I got another publishing deal if that was the case. The thought was just too tempting.

  ‘Selma?’ Mike pushed.

  ‘Oh, it’s just numbers, Mike,’ I heard myself saying. ‘Why is everyone so fixated on numbers?’

  He laughed. ‘Do you realise how you sound?’

  I felt a blush working its way over my cheeks. He was right. What did I sound like?

  ‘I just mean,’ I quickly said, ‘we should wait until we’re alone to discuss all this.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Mike replied curtly. Then he walked off.

  ‘Now, how are you, my darling?’ I asked, turning back to my daughter. ‘I have missed you so much!’

  ‘I’ve missed you too, Mummy. Why aren’t you at home? I don’t understand.’

  I sighed. I knew this conversation had to happen eventually. I’d begged Mike that we both sit down and tell her but he’d refused, saying that I’d made the decision to leave for good, so I had to be the one to deliver the news.

  ‘What has Daddy told you?’ I asked Becky.

  ‘That you’re on a writing holiday.’ Becky folded her arms. ‘I hate your stupid writing.’

  ‘It’s not that, darling,’ I said softly. ‘Mummy’s moved out.’

  Becky frowned. ‘You’re not living with me any more?’

  ‘Well, I’d like us to live together, in the cave. But Daddy wants you to sleep in the house every night. We both love you so much, we want you all the time, you see.’

  ‘So that’s why you’re fighting? You’re fighting over me?’

  My stomach clenched with sadness. It wouldn’t have to be as painful as this if Mike would only bloody let Becky stay at the cave some nights! I watched Mike rush across the road in the distance. A bus approached and I imagined it speeding up, hitting him. All my problems would be solved then, wouldn’t they? Becky could live with me in the cave forever.

  I put my hand to my temple. What was I thinking? I took in a deep breath.

  ‘We’re not really fighting,’ I said to Becky. ‘I just want you to live with me, and Daddy wants you to live with him. But the problem is, Daddy and I don’t want to live with each other any more.’

  ‘Why?’ Becky whined.

  ‘Adults are complicated. It’s hard to explain. You’ll understand when you’re older.’ I leaned forward, clutching onto my daughter’s small hand. ‘All you need to know is I love you, more than you know. So, what shall we eat? I’m thinking we should start with pudding.’

  Becky crossed her arms, sulkily staring out of the window. ‘Not hungry.’

  I sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  ‘Becky!’ two little voices shouted out.

  I turned to see Gym Bunny Cynthia walk into the café, her twins rushing towards Becky. Cynthia raised an eyebrow when she caught sight of me.

  ‘Look what I got,’ one of the twins said when she got to the table, showing Becky a colourful tape recorder with a microphone attached.

  ‘Wow,’ Becky said. ‘A Rockin’ Robot. Can I have one, Mummy?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’ll bring one next time we meet.’

  ‘They’re expensive for what they are,’ Cynthia said. ‘Might be a bit of a stretch for you now you don’t have Mike’s income to support you.’ She pursed her lips slightly, suppressing a smile. So the word was already out about Mike and I splitting up.

  I flicked my sunglasses onto my head, yawning. ‘I can afford to buy my child a toy, Cynthia. Anyway, you don’t need toys and money to have fun.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Cynthia said. ‘Numbers are so passé, aren’t they? Watches too from what I heard,’ she added, looking at my watch-free wrist. ‘Getting into the current is so much better than all that, isn’t it? Especially when the current you’re getting into has piercing green eyes and a fit bod?’

  I frowned. How did she know all that? Idris only talked about the current with outsiders, not the watch stuff.

  ‘Oh, nice photo by the way,’ Cynthia said, getting a newspaper out of her bag and slamming it onto the table. ‘Hot off the press.’

  It was the local newspaper, the Queensbay Chronicle. On the front page was a photo of Anita and I sitting on the beach, drinking. The headline above read Inside Scoop on the Cave Dwelling Cult! Then beneath it, the byline: Words by Nic Carey, photos by Ollie Robertson.

  The men Anita and I had been talking to a few days before.

  ‘Why are you in the paper, Mummy?’ Becky asked, peering at it.

  I tried to compose my face but I could feel the hot burning blush creep over my skin. ‘It’s nothing,’ I said, turning it over so I didn’t have to look at the article.

  ‘Your mummy’s a cavewoman!’ one of the twins said, giggling. Becky frowned as other people in the café peered over at us.

  Damn it, why had I talked to those men?

  ‘It’s a real shame, you know,’ Cynthia said with a dramatic sigh. ‘These two used to love playing in those caves but now they’re too scared.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. Children are always welcome to play in the cave,’ I said. ‘It’s perfectly safe.’

  Two women nearby raised cynical eyebrows and I felt my blush deepen.

  ‘E
asy to say in this weather,’ Cynthia said in a loud voice so everybody could hear. ‘But after a few days of heavy rain, you’ll be changing your minds.’ People nodded. ‘And what about the winter?’ Cynthia continued, on a roll now. ‘It’ll be awful. Must be damp too, even in the summer. It’s no place for a child to be.’

  I felt anger leap inside me. ‘Why? Because there’s no TV screen to stick your kid in front of?’ I shot back, looking pointedly at the handheld game device one of her twins was holding. ‘No plastic toys to keep them quiet? Just because this isn’t your life doesn’t mean it’s not the right life.’

  ‘Mummy,’ Becky pleaded in a little voice. But I wasn’t going to let Cynthia get away with this.

  ‘Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, love,’ an older man sitting at the next table shouted over. ‘I guarantee it’ll be a different story in a few weeks and I for one can’t wait to see it all fall down around your ears. Bloody cults!’

  Cynthia suppressed a giggle and I imagined going up to her and smacking her in the face. But instead I stood up and smiled serenely.

  ‘I think we’ll get lunch elsewhere. Come on, Becky.’ Becky hesitantly got up and I marched her outside. ‘Have a lovely day being ignorant and bloody boring!’ I shouted over my shoulder, barely containing my rage.

  ‘You have a fab day being a crazy hippy, Selma!’ Cynthia shot back in an equally faux cheery voice. ‘And see you on Saturday, Becky darling!’

  ‘Saturday?’ I said to Becky as I strode out with her. ‘What’s happening on Saturday?’

  ‘Cynthia’s coming to our house for a playdate.’

  I took several deep breaths to calm myself. A playdate? Funny how Mike had suddenly become Father of the Year. And with Cynthia, of all people. He knew I hated her.

  As we walked down the street, I noticed people watching me and whispering, and I thought of that article.

  What was Idris going to say?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Selma

  Queensbay, Kent

  10 August 1991

  I got my answer a few hours later when I returned to the cave. Everyone but Anita was gathered around the table, the newspaper lying on its surface.

  My stomach sank. ‘Hi,’ I said, taking a seat. ‘So you’ve seen it?’

  ‘How could we miss it?’ Maggie hissed. ‘I noticed it while shopping in town.’

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to read it yet,’ I replied, swallowing nervously. ‘What does it say?’

  Maggie shoved the newspaper towards me as Idris avoided my gaze. Did he know I’d talked to the journalist? Anita wasn’t here yet so she wouldn’t have had a chance to tell anyone what had happened.

  I started reading the article.

  Several people have taken to living in one of the caves on Queensbay, it began, led by a mysterious figure called Idris who saved a local boy from drowning. One of these men is Julien Sinclair, former owner of one of the largest solicitor firms in Kent. A source from the cave claims Mr Sinclair, who recently fell on hard times after the firm went into administration, was on the verge of committing suicide before he was ‘saved’ by the cult. Residents have expressed concerns about the cave dwellers, especially the enigmatic Idris, with one concerned mother, Cynthia Hoffman, labelling him a threat to the peace of the town during a recent council meeting.

  I shook my head. No wonder she was so proud of the article.

  ‘How the hell did they find all this out?’ Caden asked.

  I felt my chest constrict.

  ‘I’ve only told a few people here about my suicide attempt,’ Julien said. ‘It can only be someone in this group,’ he added, face clouding over.

  ‘You were talking to two men the other night, weren’t you Selma?’ Donna asked me.

  All eyes turned to me. ‘Only briefly,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘I didn’t pay much notice, to be honest. Anita did most of the talking.’

  ‘Maybe Anita said something to them?’ Oceane suggested.

  ‘I don’t like promises being broken,’ Idris said, face very serious. ‘It’s key to me that we can all trust each other.’

  I looked down at my hands, my heart thumping. Why did I open my fat mouth about Julien to complete strangers?

  ‘Selma, did Anita say something?’ Idris asked me. ‘You don’t need to protect her, you know. We’re all about honesty here, she knows that.’

  I swallowed, peering at the article then away again. If Idris learnt I’d betrayed Julien’s trust, he’d tell me to leave, I could see it in his eyes. And what then? Where would I go? Mike wouldn’t have me back, not that I’d want to go back to him. I’d end up in a tiny soulless flat in town, back to working full-time, all my hopes of finishing my novel shot to pieces.

  It was me or Anita.

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Idris asked.

  ‘Yes, it was Anita who told them,’ I said in a louder voice.

  Julien shook his head in disgust.

  ‘I was writing, so I wasn’t paying much attention,’ I quickly said. ‘But I did hear her mention Julien … and what happened.’

  ‘Where is she?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘She’s teaching,’ Oceane replied, brow knitted. ‘She’ll be back after dinner. Her last class finishes at eight.’

  The atmosphere over dinner was awkward, everyone eating silently, the words in that article rebounding between us. More people seemed to be walking by the cave too, even wading through the high tide in wellies to get a look at us, the ‘crazy cave dwellers’ as I heard one of them shout out. And it was all my fault! If only I’d kept my mouth shut.

  When Anita walked up the beach as the sun began to set, she had a huge smile on her face, making me feel even worse. She noticed everyone looking solemn at the table and her smile faltered.

  ‘What’s going on, guys?’ Anita asked.

  Idris stood, holding the newspaper up. ‘You were talking to two men the other night, right?’

  Anita frowned. ‘What two men?’

  ‘One of them had a big camera,’ Maggie said, voice hard.

  ‘Oh, those two men. I hardly remember, I was so drunk.’ Anita gave a nervous laugh. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘They were journalists,’ Julien said.

  Her face dropped. ‘Shit. Did they write something?’

  ‘You could say that,’ Julien replied.

  She took the paper off Idris and scoured it, eyes widening when she got to the bit about Julien. She went up to Julien, looking him in the eye.

  ‘There is no way I’d tell them that, Julien. You know I wouldn’t!’ She turned to me. ‘You were there the whole time, Selma. We didn’t say anything about Julien, did we? They must have heard it from someone else.’

  I couldn’t look at her. I felt awful but what choice did I have?

  ‘Selma told us, Anita,’ Oceane said with a sigh. ‘Don’t lie.’

  Anita looked at me in shock.

  ‘I’m sorry, Anita, I did hear you,’ I said, voice trembling.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Anita said, shaking her head. ‘You must have heard wrong.’

  ‘You were drunk,’ Oceane said softly. ‘Maybe you just don’t remember?’

  ‘I’d remember that. Selma,’ Anita said, walking over and crouching down in front of me as I sat at the table. ‘You were talking to them as much as I was!’

  ‘I was writing, you know that,’ I said, making myself look her in the eye.

  Her face hardened, her hands clasping painfully onto my fists. ‘You’re lying. Why are you lying?’

  ‘Anita, come on …’ Idris went to help her back up but she shoved him away, still glaring at me.

  ‘You’re lying to cover your back.’

  ‘No, you’re lying to cover yours,’ I replied calmly. The lie was out now, no point trying to capture it back.

  Anita looked at me in shock. She put her hand on my shoulder, looking me in the eye. The force of it caused my flimsy chair to tip backwards. Idris grabbed it
before it fell, steadying me.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked as the chair legs slammed back onto the ground.

  ‘Fine,’ I replied in a shaky voice as I looked at Anita in shock.

  ‘We can’t accept behaviour like this here,’ Idris said to Anita, his voice firm. ‘Not just the indiscretion, but also what you just did to Selma. We do not condone violence.’

  ‘What?’ Anita said, eyes wide with surprise. ‘I just put my hand on her shoulder, that wasn’t violence! That chair’s been ready to break for days.’

  ‘You shoved her, Anita,’ Oceane said, crossing her arms and looking Anita up and down.

  ‘I didn’t!’

  ‘Pack your stuff,’ Idris said firmly. ‘And leave, right now.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re all doing this to me.’ She looked at everyone imploringly but they avoided her gaze. A sense of determination crossed her face and she folded her arms, glaring at Idris. ‘You can’t tell me to go. You don’t own this cave.’

  ‘Actually, I do,’ Idris said.

  We all looked at him in surprise.

  ‘Now go, get out,’ Idris said, showing a spark of anger on his handsome face.

  Donna stood next to Idris, putting her hands on her hips. ‘We don’t want you here.’

  ‘Yeah, go away!’ Tom said, sticking his tongue out at Anita.

  ‘Just go, Anita,’ Caden said quietly.

  ‘Yes,’ Julien said with a sigh. ‘I think your time here is over.’

  The others nodded in agreement, Idris’s protective hand still on my shoulder. Guilt surged through me but I reminded myself it was a matter of survival. This place was my life now.