Sister to Sister

by Olivia Hayfield

  Harry gently wiped away her tears. ‘If anyone can give him his comeuppance, you can. Do it for yourself and for all those other women out there.’

  ‘Like Caitlyn.’

  ‘Yes, like Caitlyn.’

  Eliza gave him a small smile. ‘I’m sorry, Dad, for landing all that on you. But I needed to get it out.’

  ‘And I needed to hear it. And I’m so sorry. I can’t say that enough.’

  ‘I know you are. And you’ve changed. I understand what made you behave in that way. You’re only human. Once upon a time quite a bad one, but now pretty much the best one I know. Apart from Clare, maybe.’

  He smiled. ‘Quite right. She’s perfect. What did I ever do to deserve her?’

  ‘You don’t, according to Maria.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘But you do, according to me. I hope I find my Clare one day, Dad.’

  ‘Rob?’

  ‘He’s amazing; he’s waited for me all this time. Maybe he won’t have to wait much longer, now I’ve had this out with you.’

  Eliza

  ‘Well, you know what they say – bad things come in threes,’ said Eliza to Chess, as they took their plates over to the sofa. She’d invited her cousin over for wine, pasta, and the hot new BBC drama Kitchen Sink. It was important to know what was trending.

  ‘Three bad things? What bad things?’ said Chess.

  ‘I hardly dare say. Not sure what you know or don’t know about the biggest bomb.’

  ‘Stop being mysterious, Eliza. What’s going on?’

  ‘Firstly, Kit got into a scrap. A proper fight with bruises and police. Can you believe it?’

  ‘That boy’s a complete mystery to me, as is your weird obsession with him.’

  ‘It’s not a weird obsession.’

  ‘Try telling that to Rob. Next?’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ Eliza took a sip of her wine. ‘Mackenzie’s in London. She wants to meet up. Maybe this isn’t in fact a bad thing, I’m not sure.’ Eliza just couldn’t make up her mind. Her feelings were ambivalent. ‘I think I liked her. Did you?’

  ‘I did. She seems interesting.’

  ‘I’m just worried she wants a role at Rose, and I wouldn’t know what to do with her.’

  ‘You can cross that bridge if and when you come to it.’

  ‘Dad’s having a birthday do – I thought maybe he could invite her.’

  ‘Good plan.’ Chess picked up the remote. ‘Shall we start?’

  ‘One more thing. Someone else he’s going to invite. God, I can’t believe I’m saying this.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘His son. My half-brother. I don’t suppose that news has reached you on the grapevine?’

  ‘I knew Uncle Harry had another son, Mum told me one time.’

  Chess knew?

  ‘She swore me to secrecy – said Harry was going to tell you when the time was right. But I didn’t know he was in touch with him.’

  ‘They met up in Sydney, on Janette. I was there. His name’s Stu – he’s the image of Dad, a kind of scruffy version. Looks a bit dissolute.’

  ‘Redhead?’

  ‘What do you reckon?’

  ‘So – that must have been quite a shock for you, Eliza.’

  She thought back. ‘It was. I was floored. But you know what, Chess? After Stu left, I had a real heart to heart with Dad, and it kind of made me understand him better. All the stuff he went through with Katie – losing babies, her depression.’

  ‘Every cloud, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes. So, Chess. The Rose family just got bigger. And I’m wondering how all this is going to play out.’

  ‘Let’s hope the new shoots don’t turn out to be suckers.’

  The next morning, Eliza went to see Terri, to discuss the #MeToo article she’d proposed. In her email, she’d mentioned Seymour’s behaviour.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this before?’ demanded Terri, as Eliza sat down. ‘Fuck’s sake, Eliza. You could’ve talked to me.’

  Eliza swallowed. ‘I want him exposed. But should I just say I was abused, drop a few hints and wait for someone to investigate? Or should I name names?’

  ‘The former, I think. That would work. Other press would run with it, and imagine him stewing while he waited for them to work it out.’

  ‘Let’s do it, Terri.’

  Maria phoned to let Eliza know she was back in town, and that she’d booked a one-way ticket to Cambodia, where she’d be helping out at an orphanage. She was leaving in August.

  ‘Dad’s organizing a birthday party,’ said Eliza, as they sat chatting in Maria’s austere Westminster flat. The living room was dominated by a large old-fashioned fireplace over which hung a wooden cross. ‘You must come.’

  ‘Shall I?’

  ‘Yes! I should let you know, though, there will be two family members there you haven’t met before.’

  ‘What? Who?’

  ‘Cousin Mackenzie, Aunt Margot’s daughter. I met her at Margot’s funeral.’

  ‘And the other?’

  Eliza could have kicked herself. ‘Dammit. I just dropped myself right into that one. Should’ve asked Dad to talk to you first. His name’s Henry, but he likes to be called Stu.’

  Maria met her eye. ‘Father’s son by one of the women he betrayed Mother with. He told me, in Wales.’

  Eliza’s relief was enormous. ‘You know. Thank goodness.’

  ‘Yes. Eliza – I never said, before. Thank you, for what you did for me back then. Especially for asking Father to come. It . . . well. It changed everything.’

  ‘Gosh. But it was certainly overdue, him facing up to how he treated you. So – will you be OK with meeting Stu?’

  Maria pursed her lips. ‘It’s not his fault our father was a liar and a cheat.’

  ‘Right. Yes. You’ll come, then?’

  ‘I will. It’ll give me a chance to say my goodbyes.’

  ‘Oh my god,’ said Rob in a low voice, as Mac appeared out of the French doors. ‘Another Rose clone. Your cousin, I take it?’

  ‘Just you wait,’ muttered Eliza. ‘There’s Stu to come yet.’

  Mac was looking lovely in a pair of capri pants that showed off her long slim legs, teamed with a blue shirt. Her hair was piled on her head – it probably pushed her over the six-foot mark.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Harry, under his breath. ‘Who knew?’ He stood up. ‘Mackenzie, my long-lost niece. Welcome to the southern branch. Undoubtedly more fun than yours.’

  Mackenzie laughed heartily. ‘Uncle Harry. It’s so exciting to meet you at last! You have no idea how many times I nagged Mum and Dad to come visit you. Mum used to say, “Over my dead body.” Turned out she was right!’

  Harry chuckled. ‘Come here, give your uncle a hug.’

  As he squeezed his niece, Eliza felt her eyes narrowing.

  He introduced Clare, Maria and Rob. ‘And you already know Eliza.’

  ‘Yes, lovely to see you again. I’ve rented a flat in Barnes. I hope we can see a lot of each other.’

  ‘Right, yes. Great.’

  The Lisles arrived next, and then the Studleys. Finally, Stu appeared.

  Eliza sat up in astonishment. He’d smartened himself up, and was the image of their father, but with lighter hair. His blue eyes stood out against his tanned Aussie skin, and his limbs were loose and long. He had an energy about him that reminded Eliza of Harry.

  Chess caught Eliza’s eye, her own widening.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he said, pulling up a chair. ‘Got bloody lost. All these little streets, it’s hard to find your way around, eh?’

  Harry made the introductions. ‘ . . . and this is our other long-lost family member, Mackenzie, daughter of my late sister Margot. She’s also from an outpost.’

  Mackenzie gave Stu a wide smile. ‘Well, look at you – an Aussie version of me!’ They looked so alike, with their sandy hair, long legs, and smattering of freckles. ‘Suddenly I have an abundance of cousins,’ she said. ‘Och, but life i
s certainly looking up.’

  After lunch, as they swapped seats and chatted over coffee, Eliza looked around at this new version of her family. A new half-brother, a new cousin. Both Roses, through and through, and yet so different, with their accents, their unknown histories. And, most importantly, their unknown intentions.

  She acknowledged the discomfort that had been niggling away at her. It was nice for them, getting to know their family. But she wished they’d stayed away. It was all too unsettling, and she hated – yes, hated – seeing Harry paying them so much attention.

  At least Rob seemed immune to Mac’s undeniable charm, she thought gloomily, as Harry joked about how terrifying Aunt Margot had been.

  ‘Hey, wassup?’ said Rob in her ear.

  ‘Oh, nothing.’

  ‘Can we take a walk? I have something to share.’

  ‘Sure. I’m feeling like a spare part around here anyway.’

  ‘There’s no need to be jealous,’ he said, when they were out of earshot. ‘You know charmer is Harry’s default.’

  ‘Was it that obvious?’

  ‘It’s scary, the power of dads.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Rob, ‘when we’re official, his grip will lessen. Like . . . this week.’

  ‘Perhaps. Wait, what did you say?’

  ‘Two words, Lizzie. Decree absolute. Or maybe these two: I’m free. Or: I’m yours.’

  ‘Rob! Oh my god, this is the best news!’

  He held out his arms, and when she flew into them he picked her up and twirled her round.

  ‘Shall we tell the others?’ he said, putting her down.

  ‘No. Not with those two there. I want to share this only with Dad and Clare for now. Have you told your parents?’

  ‘Not yet, I wanted to tell you first.’

  ‘Oh, Rob!’ She gave an excited little squeak. ‘This is so, so great.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘I guess . . . I’ll have to think how to play it at work.’

  ‘Well, you’re hardly going to make an announcement. Or snog me in the atrium. You’ve got to be CEO about it.’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Wimbledon.’

  ‘Wimbledon?’

  ‘You can be my plus one. My very obvious plus one.’

  Eliza and Rob stayed behind after the party, and shared the news with Harry and Clare.

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ said Clare. ‘You make such a delightful couple.’

  ‘You did the right thing, waiting,’ said Harry. ‘The British press is a brutal beast. You may still get some flack but, believe me, you’ll learn to live with that.’

  ‘You really think they’ll be interested, Dad?’

  ‘Absolutely. You’ll need to manage it, Lizzie. Take control.’

  ‘I thought Wimbledon. On Rob’s arm.’

  Harry smiled. ‘I can see the headline now. Love Match for Eliza Rose.’

  Later that week, Eliza had another session with Dr Thomson. She explained that Rob was now divorced, and related her conversation with Harry.

  ‘I think it’s time for you to resume relations with Rob,’ said the therapist. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  Eliza considered her response. ‘It’s all about letting go of blame? Learning to trust? Forgiveness?’

  ‘As far as your relationship with your father is concerned, I think it is.’

  ‘Then yes. I’m ready to try again.’

  Chapter 34

  Eliza

  ‘Anyone for tennis?’ Eliza said to her reflection in the full-length mirror.

  She was wearing a short, off-white linen dress, teamed with red gladiator sandals. Strawberries and cream. She’d pinned her hair off her face with strawberry hairclips spotted in Harrods. Subtle eye make-up, red lipstick, and a spritz of a sexy, summery perfume.

  Ready for the cameras. Advantage, Eliza.

  The taxi arrived, and as it headed southwest there were just a few puffy white clouds in the cornflower-blue sky. It was going to be the perfect summer’s day, in oh so many ways.

  ‘Good god,’ said Harry, looking pointedly at her skirt as she joined him outside the Rose marquee. ‘Are you actually competing today?’

  ‘Tsh, get with the times, Dad.’

  Their guests began to arrive – there would be a buffet lunch, then an afternoon of tennis, with strawberries and cream for high tea.

  Here were Terri and her girlfriend, Layla. Terri’s black and white outfit matched her hair.

  ‘Harry,’ Terri said, as he kissed her cheek. ‘How many years have we been doing this?’

  ‘Since Becker beat Lendl in the final – nineteen eighty-six.’

  ‘And, more importantly, Navratilova beat Mandlíková. And everyone else. Almost every year, for a while there.’

  ‘Fearless trailblazer,’ said Harry. ‘Like you.’

  Terri gave him a half-smile. ‘Times certainly have changed, Harry.’

  ‘Maybe you helped make that happen.’

  ‘Sentimental old fool. Ah, while we’re on the subject of rainbows . . . ’

  Will and Kit had arrived, and Eliza smiled as she took in their Wimbledon ensembles – designer suits, blue for Will and cream for Kit, and fedora hats. They looked adorable.

  ‘Hello, cuties,’ she said. ‘Looking forward to the tennis?’

  ‘To sport would be as tedious as work,’ said Will.

  ‘It’s kind of pointless,’ said Kit.

  ‘He’s brought a book to read,’ said Will.

  ‘Sit by me today?’ said Kit.

  ‘No way. I’m not sitting with you two looking all dramatically bored. And anyway . . . ’ She spotted Rob striding towards them, rocking a pale-blue suit. ‘I have news.’

  Rob’s grin was wide.

  ‘He’s looking pleased with himself,’ said Will.

  ‘Hello, gorgeous,’ said Rob, kissing Eliza’s cheek.

  ‘That’s my line,’ said Kit.

  ‘Mine now,’ said Rob, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  Kit raised his eyebrows at Eliza.

  ‘Rob’s divorce came through,’ she said. ‘No more skulking.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Will. ‘What does one say, Rob? Congratulations?’

  ‘Is the correct answer,’ he replied.

  ‘Right,’ said Harry. ‘Now we’ve cleared that one up, it’s time to go forth and be corporate.’ He waved his hand at them. ‘Off you go, children.’

  After lunch, Harry, Eliza and Rob made their way through the crowds to the Centre Court. Eliza linked her arm through Rob’s and smiled for the cameras as press photographers walked backwards ahead of them. It felt so good to be able to do this at last.

  No doubt they’d describe Rob as ‘recently divorced’, and imply she was the reason, but there was little she could do about that. Although, if she’d wanted to avoid the marriage-wrecker label . . . perhaps the dress was a bit on the short side.

  It was the men’s quarter finals, and the match was gripping.

  Kit was clearly ungripped. Sitting two rows in front of Eliza, he fell asleep with his head on Will’s shoulder. No doubt the cameras would zoom in on him too.

  Eliza couldn’t help smiling. Rose staff were on form today. All they needed was for Harry to be snapped flirting with a celeb for a clean sweep on tomorrow’s gossip columns.

  The match finished, and as they waited for the doubles to begin, Harry asked, ‘How’s your tennis, Rob? I seem to remember you weren’t too shabby from your times at Richmond?’

  ‘Not bad – better than Dad and Gil.’

  ‘I have a hankering. How about you two come over for a couple of sets after we’re done here?’

  ‘Great idea,’ said Eliza. ‘Rob?’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  Rob was kitted out, and Eliza changed into her favourite tennis dress – bright blue with an orange trim. And matching knickers.

  ‘As I’m sure you’ll remember, Dad takes his tennis seriously,’ she said, as they walked down to the
court. ‘If you beat him you’ll have his respect for ever. But, to be honest, that’s unlikely.’

  ‘He’s more than twice my age, Lizzie. And what about his bad leg?’

  ‘Have you seen him limping lately?’

  ‘Actually, no.’

  ‘It always hurts him after he’s played, but during a match he just forgets about it.’

  They began knocking up, and Clare came out to watch, sitting up on the umpire’s chair.

  The sun started its descent, casting long shadows across the court. The gentle thock of tennis balls resounded in the quiet of the evening.

  They began a mini tournament, best of five games. First up, Rob played Eliza. She gave it her best shot, but Rob was too powerful. She bowed out at three games to love.

  Next, Harry and Rob were evenly matched. Rob was quick, and accurately anticipated Harry’s moves. But Harry’s skill was superior and his backhand was a killer. He aced Rob, time after time. They won two games each, and the fifth went to deuce.

  Harry was serving, and another ace flew past Rob before he had time to react.

  ‘Advantage, Harry!’ Clare called.

  On the next point, Rob returned another powerful serve with equal ferocity. The ball bounced just out of Harry’s reach.

  ‘Deuce!’ called Clare.

  Harry’s first serve went in the net, and the second was weaker.

  Rob took full advantage, blasting his return down the sideline and past Harry.

  Lord, would you look at these two go.

  ‘Advantage, Rob!’ called Clare.

  Oh my god – match point. He could actually win this.

  Again Harry’s serve was a killer, but Rob somehow managed to reach it. The ball clipped the top of the net and dropped like a stone on the other side. Harry lunged, but was too far away.

  ‘Yes!’ cried Rob, punching the air.

  Eliza ran onto the court and threw her arms around him. ‘I can’t believe you won! Dad hasn’t been beaten in forever!’

  After his initial annoyance at losing to a fluky shot, Harry smiled and held out his hand. ‘Well played, Rob. You’re officially worthy of my precious Lizzie. Look after her well.’

  ‘I will, Harry. You can count on it.’ He put his arm round her. ‘Tonight I feel like the luckiest man alive.’