My Sister's Lies

by S. D. Robertson

  S: It sounds to me like you’re every bit as kind and considerate in your relationship as you say he is, Hannah. A lot of people wouldn’t have been able to show that kind of restraint.

  H: That’s nice of you, Sally. I had similar feelings after Diane and Mia moved away, but by that stage I knew I wasn’t in any suitable mental state to have a child anyway. And as you know from our earlier sessions, Mark was an absolute rock during my breakdown. I couldn’t have asked for someone more understanding and patient. I’d never have got through it without him. I had suicidal thoughts then, when I considered my life was worthless, but I could never have acted on them, knowing what it would do to Mark and even to my dad. That’s why I’m really struggling with Diane’s actions. I keep wondering if, by taking Mia in, I enabled my sister to do this. Mind you, otherwise she might have done it with Mia still around, which would have been so much worse. Imagine if she’d killed herself at home and Mia had found her. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

  CHAPTER 19

  ‘Good. You’re home,’ Hannah said when Mark walked into the kitchen. She turned off the electric hand blender. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘Well, no. You wouldn’t hear much over that racket.’ He gave her a kiss and a little hug, peering over the large pan she was busy with on the hob before adding: ‘Smells nice. What is it?’

  ‘Carrot and tomato soup. I found a recipe online.’

  ‘Lovely.’ Mark smiled before his face turned serious. ‘How’s, um, everything going? How are you doing?’

  ‘Well, I’m making soup now and before that I made a fridge cake. There was no chance of me getting any writing done today. I don’t have the concentration to read a book, never mind create one of my own. I’m doing what I can to keep busy in a way that doesn’t involve too much thinking.’

  ‘That sounds fair enough to me, love. You have to deal with the news in whatever way works best for you. Is it chocolate?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The fridge cake.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yes.’

  ‘Great,’ Mark replied, already heading towards the fridge. ‘I’ll have a piece of that.’

  ‘Not until after tea, you won’t.’

  ‘So I take it you haven’t heard much more about Diane today, then?’

  Hannah shook her head. She felt tears coming again but fought them off by taking a couple of steady breaths and diverting her mind from trigger thoughts. These were skills adapted from those she’d learned to overcome anxiety in the aftermath of her breakdown, which had served her well for some time now. Mark knew to be patient and say nothing at this point, rather than draw attention to her emotional state, which would only make it worse.

  Once she’d gathered herself, she replied: ‘No. Dad’s back in the UK now and heading to Bournemouth tomorrow. He’s the one dealing with the police and so on. I’ve spoken to him a couple of times, but it doesn’t sound like anything’s going to happen very quickly.’

  Mark nodded. ‘Yes, about the police. They rang me at work earlier. I’m not sure where they got the details from, but—’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Hannah said, raising a hand to her mouth. ‘Dad mentioned that this morning and I was supposed to warn you, but I totally forgot. The neighbour had mentioned you to the police, because of your visit, and Dad didn’t have your mobile number to hand. He told them the name of your company instead and said they’d be able to get hold of you there. Sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Dad specifically asked me to as well.’

  ‘It’s fine. I had a feeling they might need to speak to me.’

  ‘What did they want? What did they ask you?’

  ‘Just what we’d been talking about: her state of mind and that kind of thing. They’re obviously trying to get to the bottom of why she did what she did. There wasn’t much I could tell them. Anyway, what about Mia? How’s she doing? Is she in her room?’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘She’s still in shock, I think. There’s so much for her to process. She moped around the apartment until just after lunch, which she barely touched, and then Todd came over. I’d already told Kathy the full story, so she’d filled him in. He was so sweet, bless him. He gave Mia a big hug as soon as he saw her; even brought us a big bunch of flowers.’

  ‘I spotted those in the lounge,’ Mark replied. ‘I wondered where they came from. Is Todd still here, then?’

  ‘No, they’ve gone out into the city centre for a bit. Some fresh air is probably exactly what Mia needs. There was a bit of an incident earlier when she thought she’d lost her mobile.’

  ‘Oh? What happened?’

  Hannah explained how Mia had come storming out of her bedroom that morning, saying she’d looked absolutely everywhere for her phone and could not find it. ‘Have you seen it?’ she’d asked her aunt. ‘Have you moved it somewhere?’

  Hannah had said not, whereupon Mia had stomped her heels and started tearing around the apartment in a frenzy, upending sofa cushions and anything else that got in her way, in a desperate attempt to find it. Initially, recognising her niece’s need to give vent to her anger, frustration and grief, Hannah hadn’t got involved, assuming she’d soon find her mobile and calm down. But she’d been forced to intervene after hearing Mia scream at full volume: ‘Where the hell is it?’

  ‘Okay, you need to take a deep breath and calm down now,’ Hannah had said firmly. ‘Panicking won’t help you find it. Think when you last used it. It can’t have gone far.’

  Mia had burst into tears at this point and collapsed in a heap on the lounge floor in despair.

  ‘Come on, love,’ Hannah had told her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ll help you. We’ll find it together.’

  Mark grimaced at his wife’s recounting of the story. ‘That sounds tricky. I guess you found her phone eventually, right?’

  ‘Yes, thank goodness. It was on the shelf in the bathroom. I don’t know how she’d missed it. She said she’d looked there. Clearly her head’s all over the place. She apologised for getting worked up anyway, and then we tidied up the mess she’d made.’

  ‘Sounds to me like you handled the situation just right,’ Mark said as he took his jacket off and hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. ‘What about Sally? Did you get to see her okay today?’

  Hannah nodded. ‘Yes. I was a bit worried about leaving Mia, but she said she’d be fine with Todd.’

  ‘Did your session help?’

  ‘As much as anything can in the circumstances. It was good to talk things through.’

  Mark stood behind Hannah and placed his hands around her waist. ‘Good.’

  Hannah guessed what her husband was thinking. He was no doubt worried about history repeating itself; her withdrawing and becoming a recluse again. It made sense for him to think that, seeing as it was her mum’s death and the subsequent falling-out with her sister that had sparked it.

  But she was much stronger than that now. Her recent sessions with Sally had helped her appreciate this fact. Plus she had Mia to take care of; her niece needed her to hold things together. There was also the fact that Hannah was used to life without Diane. She’d had years to adapt. For this reason part of her felt like she had no right to mourn her sister. It wasn’t like they’d had any kind of genuine relationship at the time of her death, was it? She particularly felt like this around Mia, who of course had an absolute right to grieve. Every time Hannah shed a tear, which had happened a lot today, it was almost like she was waiting for Mia to tell her she had no business doing so.

  Hannah wasn’t even one hundred per cent sure why she kept on crying. Was it because she regretted the way she’d treated Diane on her recent visit? Was it because she wished she’d used that opportunity to try to reconcile? Maybe it was more down to guilt and the awful sense that her behaviour towards Diane might have played a role in her suicide.

  She knew that at least some part of the sorrow that had gripped her by the throat since yesterday was for poor Mia, whos
e situation was one of pure tragedy. But Hannah also missed her sister: the fearless, independent little girl she’d grown up alongside; the yin to her yang; the left to her right; the hot to her cold.

  All that time they’d been apart, barely a day had gone by when Hannah hadn’t thought of Diane at least once. There had always been the two of them – even when there hadn’t. That was why, back in the day, the shock of suddenly being cut off from her had hit Hannah so hard.

  Having a sister like Diane wasn’t something you could just shake off. Especially not when she’d been there, at your side, before you were even born. When her features were identical to your own to the extent that, as children, even your parents struggled to know who was who.

  Hannah hadn’t thought of Diane in that way for a long time now. She’d closed herself off to it as a way to survive without her; to be an individual. But facts were facts and, as much as she’d tried to bury the real nature of their bond – to think of her as a normal sister in a bid to ease the pain of their separation – that wasn’t the truth. Nothing hit this home quite as hard as the terrible finality of death.

  Her twin sister was gone. She was never coming back.

  CHAPTER 20

  Leaving Hannah in the kitchen, Mark went through to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes and have a shower in the en-suite bathroom. Along the way, he retrieved a handful of letters Hannah had put aside for him from that morning’s post.

  His wife was putting on a brave face, but he feared she was struggling to cope with the news of her sister’s death. She was clearly conflicted, which made sense in light of her eroded relationship with Diane. Mark had seen Hannah fall to pieces before – and the idea of that happening again terrified him, not least because of Mia. If the teenager was to stand a chance of dealing with her mum’s suicide, she was going to need her aunt’s strength and support every bit as much as Mark’s.

  He’d not seen Hannah looking so fragile in ages. Things had been going so well for her recently, particularly in terms of snagging her dream publishing deal. Mark couldn’t bear the thought of all that positivity being ruined before her debut novel had even been released.

  He feared that should Hannah now learn the true nature of his relationship to Mia, it could be enough to tip her over the edge.

  To Mark’s relief, his earlier conversation with the policeman hadn’t encroached on this treacherous territory at all. The questions put to him had been general rather than probing. He’d got the sense the officer had been going through the motions, with the phone call more of a box-ticking exercise than anything else. Mark’s best guess was that the poor train driver had likely provided enough eyewitness information to make it an open-and-shut case.

  When he entered the shower, he turned the water nice and hot. He savoured the feeling of it beating down on to his head and shoulders, then gradually coating every inch of his skin in a blissfully warm, wet layer. The steam snaked up and around him and, briefly, he found peace as he focused on the pleasant physical sensations and muted the warring thoughts slugging it out in his mind.

  He held on to this serenity as he transferred his focus to the act of drying himself, choosing what to wear and then slowly, mindfully, getting dressed in a comfy pair of linen shorts and a polo shirt. Finally, sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned his attention to the items of post he’d picked up on the way to the bedroom.

  The first couple were from the bank: a credit card bill and a reminder of a bonus period coming to an end on a savings account. The third was a small padded envelope with his name and address plus the postage details printed on self-adhesive labels. It looked like it might contain something small he’d ordered off eBay, like a phone case or a new charging cable. This wasn’t unusual – apart from the fact he hadn’t ordered any such item recently. Had he? He racked his brains, wondering if there was something he’d forgotten about, but still nothing came to mind.

  He looked on both sides of the package for any sign of where it had come from, but there was no sender’s address or postmark. The postage label was no help in this regard either. It looked like the kind you could pay for online and print off using your own equipment.

  A voice inside Mark’s head suggested that perhaps he ought to open it if he wanted to discover its contents, and so he did.

  Inside, to his bewilderment, he found a single item – a loose white USB stick – something he knew for sure he hadn’t ordered. When he turned it over in his hands and saw the bright yellow sticker on the back, his heart started pounding. Written in blue biro in a tiny version of a handwriting style he recognised straight away, were four words: Mia was conceived here.

  What the hell? That was Diane’s writing – no question. He’d read her letter enough times to know this for sure. So what was he looking at? And when had she sent it: just before killing herself? Oh God. What had she done? What was on this bloody flash drive?

  Afraid to find out, Mark dropped the stick back into the padded envelope and shoved it under the foot end of his side of the mattress. Dammit. This was a nightmare.

  Then an even worse thought came to mind: something potentially disastrous.

  Diane’s letter.

  Mark had stuffed it into his jacket pocket at work when Sharon had approached his desk earlier today. He’d then proceeded to forget about it, having been distracted by the police phone call.

  Meaning … the letter was still in there.

  Inside his jacket.

  Which he’d left in the kitchen.

  With Hannah.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER 21

  Hannah was sitting with her head in her hands at the kitchen table, sobbing over Diane’s letter to Mark. She’d found it a few minutes earlier when she’d picked his jacket off the chairback with the intention of hanging it up. Now the jacket was lying discarded on the floor next to her feet as she fought to absorb the enormity of the betrayal she’d just discovered.

  Mark appeared in the doorway. ‘Hannah,’ he said, causing her to look up and see him through the blur of her tears. Sorrow, disbelief and hatred all fought for precedence in her befuddled mind. ‘I can explain,’ he said. ‘It’s not what—’

  ‘How could you?’ she spat. ‘With her of all people? And to keep it from me all of these years! I thought you loved me; that you were different from all the other guys. And there you were, having an affair with my sister under my nose. What was it: some kind of gross twin fantasy you needed to fulfil? You disgust me! You even gave her a child, Mark. The very thing you always denied me. That you said you never wanted. I feel sick to my stomach.’

  ‘Listen, Hannah. You have to—’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything you say,’ she replied, shouting now, fury taking charge. ‘You’ve betrayed me. Totally and utterly. You’ve been lying to me for years. How long did it go on for – and how many others have there been? Don’t you dare lie to me.’

  ‘It was j-just once,’ Mark stuttered. The blood had drained from his face and there was terror in his eyes, but at that moment she felt nothing but contempt for him. ‘I swear to you, Hannah. It was a terrible mistake. I—’

  ‘How many others?’

  ‘None. That’s it, I promise you. I can tell you the details if—’

  ‘No, shut up, Mark!’ Just the thought of that made her want to gag. ‘Are you sick in the head? Why on earth would I want to know any of the details?’

  ‘Um … sorry.’

  ‘Don’t you dare apologise. You can stick your apologies up your arse. So when you stayed there the other night – at Diane’s house – did you sleep with her again for old times’ sake? Is that why she killed herself, Mark? What the hell did you do?’ Hannah raised her hands over her head before slamming them back down, balled into fists, on to the tabletop. ‘How is this happening to me?’

  Tears started pouring down her cheeks again. As much as she wanted to, Hannah couldn’t stop them. But still she blinked over and over again, determined to stay strong. She kept her
gaze firmly locked on the man she’d always loved and trusted above anyone else, demanding to know why he’d betrayed her.

  Meanwhile, Mark remained rooted to the spot. He looked pathetic: like a child caught stealing from his mother’s purse. Hannah watched him grab the edge of the nearest work surface and squeeze it with his trembling fingers, as if clinging on for dear life. She felt zero sympathy.

  ‘Well?’ she snapped, making him jump. ‘Why did she kill herself, Mark? What did you do?’

  He cleared his throat before replying in a shaky voice: ‘I didn’t do anything to her, Hannah, I swear. And no, of course I didn’t sleep with her. That only ever happened once, around fifteen years ago, and never again. It was a terrible, terrible mistake I’ve regretted ever since. I don’t know why she killed herself. She was cagey about what was going on with her and when Mia would be able to return home. She seemed a bit on edge, sure, like she did when she turned up here. But I had no idea what she was going to do. I wouldn’t have left her alone if I had.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Of course.’

  Unable to look at this pathetic creature – her so-called husband – for a moment longer, Hannah took her head in her hands and started rocking backwards and forwards in her chair. Who could she turn to now for comfort and support? How could she ever trust anyone again?

  Neither of them spoke another word for some time. Hannah realised her initial anger had mutated into something else – a kind of detached numbness – when she eventually asked: ‘Does Mia know?’

  ‘Um, no. I don’t think so,’ Mark replied. ‘I certainly haven’t told her and Diane said she hadn’t either. To be honest, I’ve only got Diane’s word that I am her father. I didn’t believe her at first, particularly as it only happened once. I obviously wondered when she fell pregnant and then when Mia was born, but she, er … she always maintained someone else was responsible. Until that letter.’