The Middle Child (3 page)

    
"Don’t say that," Catherine protesting, casting a glance at the kitchen window.  Beth looked out, an anxious expression on her face.  The vulnerability and fear in her eyes hit Alex somewhere beneath her ribcage but she wasn’t sure where.

    
"She hates it when we argue," Catherine observed, reaching for Alex’s cigarette.  She took a draw and then stamped it out.

    
"Yeah, and we both know the consequences of that, don’t we?"

     Alex lit another cigarette and offered one to Catherine.  They smoked in silence.  Alex guessed that they were locked in the same memory of the devastating event that had taken place when Beth was eight.  It was a day that neither of them would ever forget.

     Catherine threw the cigarette into the overgrown weeds.  "Come on, let’s go and give Beth a hand."

***

     By 5.30 Alex was viewing the last  few straggling grievers through an alcohol-induced haze.  The whisky had built the foundations of the wall of detachment around her and the countless glasses of sherry were adding to it; brick by brick.

     Fucking parasites, she thought, lighting a cigarette.  Any pretence at respect had disappeared at the same speed as the mini quiches.  Who the fuck was going to slap her or kick her for smoking in the house now.  She had the urge to run outside and scream at the top of her voice, come on you fucking heartless bitch.  Come get me now.  Not that the neighbours would notice.  They were too busy stuffing pork pie into their faces in the next room.

     Alex made her way to the sideboard and peered into each of the bottles, shaking them vigorously to detect movement.  "Whoopee," she muttered as the dregs of a port bottle yielded a result.

    
"Don’t you think you’ve had enough?" Catherine said, taking the miniature glass from her hand.

    
"Fuck off," Alex slurred, grabbing for the glass.  She’d seen three and aimed for the middle one but still sent the dregs sloshing over Catherine’s hand.

     Catherine placed the empty glass on the sideboard beside the empty bottles.

     "Oh well, that’s that then," Alex said, as Catherine wiped her hand.  "Might as well fuck off home now the booze has gone."

    
"For heaven’s sake, Alex, get a hold of yourself.  It’s a funeral."

    
"Not for somebody I knew so excuse me if I amuse myself by getting quietly pissed."

     Alex headed off in the direction of the kitchen.  There had to be some cooking sherry somewhere or a secret stash of something.  Everyone had a secret stash.

     "There’s nothing left.  You’ve drunk it all," Catherine said, following her.

    
"Don’t take that fucking santicim, sanctinome, fucking superior tone with me.  Those bludgers drank it as well."

    
"They would have if there’d been any left."

     Alex thought she heard a note of amusement in Catherine’s voice but when she turned Catherine’s face was a mask of control.  She’d been mistaken, she realised.  Of course she had.

     "That’s the last of them gone," Beth said, entering the kitchen behind them.

     Despite her inebriated state, Alex could hear the fatigue in Beth’s voice.

     "Sit down and I’ll make us a cuppa," Catherine offered.

     Beth did as she was told and smiled thankfully at Catherine.  Catherine squeezed her shoulder.

     Alex looked away, sickened and wishing she’d been on the train hours ago or better still that she hadn’t come at all.

    
"Thanks for everything," Beth said, squeezing Alex’s hand.  Alex wanted to rip her hand away and scream at this elusive stranger but one look into Beth’s eyes and she couldn’t.  She was full of genuine warmth and gratitude.  She wanted to slap the woman and scream that they weren’t sisters.  Just three women brought together by an accident at birth.  She wanted to remind them both that they hadn’t seen each other or spoken in years.  They barely knew anything about each other.  Alex knew that Catherine had two girls.  How old were they?  What were their names?  What did they like and dislike?

     Alex wanted to scream all these thoughts at them but one look into Beth’s eyes completely deflated her.  She remembered how gentle Beth was.  Poor Beth who had been born without any aggression or self-preservation.  Beth who had had the foresight to hide packets of biscuits for the times when their bellies burned with hunger. 

     Alex felt the emotion rising in her throat; but that was back then and this was now and nothing was the same.

     Family was an accident of blood only.  Relationships needed to be fed and nurtured, looked after, built with shared experiences, laughter, love. But there’d been none of that.  Despite the blood that ran through their veins, these women were strangers to her.

     Alex stood.  "My train will be…"

    
"Please stay," Beth said, quickly rising to her feet.  "Just for a little while."

     Alex felt her jaw tense but she sat down anyway.  Beth looked so lost and forlorn like a small animal brutally separated from the safety of familiar surroundings.

     "I just want a little time with my sisters."

     Alex glanced at Catherine who shook her head slightly, warning her to keep quiet.

     Alex busied herself lighting a cigarette.  Catherine reached across and took one from the box.

    
"Hey, here’s a thought: fucking buy some," Alex groaned.

     Beth chuckled lightly.  Both Alex and Catherine swiftly looked over but all too soon it was gone.  Alex had seen the light briefly but was dark again.

     Alex remembered when her foot was in plaster.  The pain had been torturous and constant but Beth had sat with her for hours, painting silly faces on the stark whiteness of the plaster and then impersonating the faces, forcing her features into almost impossible expressions.  Despite the pain, Alex had never laughed so much.

    
"I’m just going to get changed," Beth said, leaving the table.

    
"Thank you, Alex," Catherine said as the sound of Beth’s footsteps sounded above them.

    
"For what?"

    
"For not saying all of the things that are bursting to come out."

     Alex nodded. 
"How did you know?"

    
"Because I’m feeling those things too," Catherine admitted.  "But Beth needs to feel us close, right now.  She needs to believe that…"

     Catherine’s words trailed off as Beth came back into the room.  Alex followed her gaze but quickly ripped her eyes to the floor.  Beth had changed into a thin strapped vest top exposing the worst of the scar that covered almost half of her body.

     Alex didn’t know what she’d expected but the skin was red and mottled and rough like textured wallpaper.  She looked again as Beth turned her back.  Beneath the rest of her clothing, Alex knew, it stretched down and across her entire right side.

     Her gaze met Catherine’s and acceptance passed between them.  Acceptance of the blame.  Acceptance of the fact that indirectly they had done that to their sister.

     As a child, Alex had hoped that as Beth grew the scarred, dead tissue would remain the same size so that as she aged the scar would be barely noticeable.  It had never occurred to her that the scarring would grow with the skin and stretch with her.

    
"So, what’s going on with this young doctor?" Catherine asked, breaking her gaze.

     Beth turned, her face a mask of scarlet. 
"He’s been so good during mother’s illness.  It was terrible to see her in such pain.  She was a very poorly old lady and I couldn’t bear to see her suffer."

     Alex saw the alarm on Catherine’s face.  It matched her own.  Were they talking about the same woman?

     "So, what’s he like?" Alex pushed to get her off the subject of their mother.  It was too disturbing to witness.

    
"He’s been so helpful.  I told him all about my accident and he was so supp…"

    
"Your ac…accident?"

    
"Of course," Beth said, smiling at Catherine benevolently.  "It’s very kind of you but you can’t fail to notice this," she said pointing to the tip where the scar began.  "I told him all about the day that the fire was roaring away.  I explained that the poker was on the floor and that I stumbled into the fire.  Of course, you must remember," Beth said lightly with a tone of disbelief in her voice.

    
"An accident?" Catherine breathed.

    
"You stumbled?" Alex asked, her eyes wide with amazement.

    
"Of course," Beth said, frowning slightly.  Her expression cleared.  "I’ll just go and see if there are any salmon sandwiches left."

    
"Oh my God," Alex said, clamping a hand to her mouth.  "She doesn’t remember a fucking thing."

Chapter 5 – Catherine

     Catherine checked her e-mails but the one she was waiting for, hoping for, had not come through.  The clock on the wall ticked ominously towards five.  Surely if she’d won the contract she’d know by now.

     She pressed the intercom button that linked her directly to her PA.

    
"Lisa, anything from upstairs yet?"

    
"Not yet," Lisa said, impatience colouring her words.

     Catherine disconnected.  She’d lost count of the times that she’d asked.  But today should be the day.

     Lisa opened the door, carrying a cup of herbal tea.  "Here, drink this.  It might calm your nerves."

     Catherine ignored the drink and began to pace the room. 
"For Christ sake, surely they’ve decided by now.  I mean, they said by Monday…"

    
"Will you please relax?" Lisa chided.

    
"It’s alright for you.  You have nothing invested in this.  I worked night and day on that presentation to get the contract…"

     Lisa huffed. 
"Of course the hours that I stayed late to help mean absolutely nothing."
     "You know what I mean.  It’s just such a big thing for me.  I’ve worked so hard for this promotion."

    
"It’s important to me also," Lisa said with a smile.  "Although I’m sure my salary hike will be nothing compared to yours I’ll still enjoy the prestige of a title change.  I can see it now," She said, gazing up at the ceiling.  "Lisa Gordon, PA to Advertising Executive.  Will I get my own office?  An assistant?"

     In spite of her nerves Catherine started to laugh. 
"Who said I’d take you upstairs with me?"

     Lisa crossed her legs dramatically. 
"You’d be nothing without me.  I am the power behind the throne.  I am the wind beneath your wings.  I am…"

    
"Get out and guard that phone," Catherine ordered.

     Lisa reached the door and turned. 
"Hey, boss," she paused and smiled.  "Stop worrying, it'll come."

      Thank God for Lisa, Catherine thought as the girl closed the door quietly.  The twenty one year old possessed a bubbly personality and an unshakeable loyalty that Catherine had come to rely on.

     She checked her diary for the following day.  She had three meetings with prospective clients but none as big as the one she waiting to hear about.  Lisa had been right.  It would catapult her from Account Manager to Executive.  A substantial pay increase but more importantly, a move to the top floor alongside the other executives and the two directors.

     There was also a pencilled note to ring Beth.  She felt guilty for the fact that it was in pencil.  She only marked things in pencil if they were flexible enough to be carried forward to the next day if she ran out of time.  The entry had been re-written three times.

     In the six days since the funeral Catherine had meant to call her sister and check that she was okay but something stopped her.  She wasn’t sure how to communicate with Beth and that had nothing to do with the years that had passed between them.

     The realisation that Beth didn’t remember anything had shocked her to the core.  How could she not remember?  Catherine had searched her expression for any clue that the truth lurked in there somewhere but she had found nothing.

     Surely it wasn’t healthy to be denying everything that happened in their childhood but maybe it was a type of defence mechanism that Beth had employed to enable her to stay with their mother and take care of her.  Maybe Beth was the lucky one, Catherine reasoned.  If she could pay for the memories to be surgically removed she’d book the procedure tomorrow.  She didn’t know enough about denial to understand if Beth’s total ignorance of the events of their childhood was healthy or not but she knew it just didn’t feel right.

     Her thoughts turned to Alex who was a completely different story.  She remembered it all, clearly.  Catherine felt sadness wash over her for her youngest sister.  She knew the drinking was an escape to bury the memories.  Alex was still tortured by the past and remained gripped by their cycle.  She wished there was something she could do.  How different might Alex’s life have been if her spirit and fight had been channelled in a positive direction.  What could she have become?  Catherine closed her eyes.  Alex was drowning and Catherine didn’t know how to save her.

     "Catherine…Catherine…"  Lisa’s voice sounded through the intercom.

    
"Yes," She answered, sitting upright.  Alert.  Her heart pounded in her chest.

    
"Drinks at Brini’s in half an hour."

     Shit, thought Catherine.  That told her nothing.  She knew people who had been fired and promoted at Brini’s.  It was an exclusive wine bar a stone's throw from the office in the centre of
Shrewsbury.  A plain door sat between a trendy boutique and Health food shop.  Known only to the members Catherine had been there once before when they had head-hunted her from Pimton's.

     She pressed the shortcut to Tim’s mobile.  He’d be on his way to the childminder to collect the girls.

     "It’s me," she said as he answered.  She could hear the noise of rush hour traffic in the background.  "I’ve just had the call," she said, nervously.

    
"Aren’t you on your way home?"

    
"Didn’t you hear me?  I said I’ve just had the call.  I’m meeting the directors in half an hour."

     The line went quiet.  Catherine wondered if they’d been disconnected but the traffic noise remained.

     "Tonight?"

    
"Of course tonight," She snapped.  What was wrong with him?  Why wasn’t he excited for her?

    
"You’ll have to postpone."

    
"Are you out of your mind?" she screeched down the phone.  "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

    
"Because it’s parents evening for your six year old daughters."

     Catherine could hear the controlled rage in his voice.  Shit, she had completely forgotten. 

     "I’ve been telling you for three weeks and I left a reminder on the fridge this morning."  His voice was low and barely audible.

    
"I can’t postpone this meeting, Tim.  You know how hard I’ve worked to get this.  If I cancel now I might just as well collect my P forty five in the morning."

    
"That may not be such a bad thing."

    
"For Christ's sake," Catherine cried indignantly.  "It’s for you and the girls that I’m doing this.  The extra money could pay for a lot…"

    
"Please, don’t pretend that anything other than your need for approval and recognition drives you, Catherine," he said, his voice loud and strong.  "The girls would much prefer you at their parent’s evening."

     Catherine was stung by his words but she didn’t want an argument.  She needed to be focused when she met the directors.

     "Listen, I’ll try and hurry the meeting along and meet you at the school as soon as I can get…"

     It took Catherine a few seconds to realise that the line had been disconnected.  She replaced the receiver and contemplated calling Tim back.  She decided against it.  She’d sort it out with him later.

***

     The low grey clouds and drizzling rain were drawing the evening in quicker than normal for a late September day.  Catherine tried not to see the weather as a bad omen and fixed  a bright smile on her face as she entered the wine bar.

     The two directors sat at the same table as when they’d offered her the current position.  She briefly wondered if it was reserved for them exclusively.

     She sat in the plush maroon velvet chair and greeted them both.  A monochrome waiter appeared beside her instantly.  She ordered a soft drink.

     The younger Mr Leigh smiled at her but she could read nothing from his expression.  He was in his early fifties but time and millions had served him well.  His hair was full and silvery and topped a healthy tanned face.  His older brother had not been so fortunate and his five additional years showed in his receding hairline and growing paunch.

     Mr Leigh junior sat back in his chair. 
"How’s the family, Catherine?"

    
"They’re fine, thank you."

     Catherine realised that she’d just had the perfect opportunity to pave the way for leaving early had she mentioned that it was her children’s parents’ evening, but she'd let the moment pass.

     "You know why we’ve asked you here this evening, Catherine?"

     She nodded and despite the fact that he was smiling his expression was still indecipherable.

     "How long have you been with us now?"

    
"Five years."

     Catherine still couldn’t tell which way the meeting was going.  The various permutations that her mind had computed had delivered three options.  Her presentation had not secured the contract.  Her presentation had secured the contract and she was going to head it or option three that she dared not even consider.  Her presentation had won the contract but they were nominating someone else to head it.

     "You’ve been with us for five years so that makes you…thirty?"

   
"Twenty nine."

     He nodded before his eyebrows drew together in a slight frown and Catherine’s heart missed a beat.  Jesus, no.  If they had won the contract and it was going to be awarded to someone else due to her age she seriously doubted that she could continue to work for the company any longer.

     "As you know, the
Finesse
cosmetics presentation was one of the largest and most ambitious contracts we’ve ever bid for."

     She nodded, too afraid to speak.  His voice was low and even, giving nothing away.

     "Their annual gross profit is in the region of ninety million pounds.  Fifteen million of that is spent on advertising."

     Catherine knew all that. 
"But we’re only tendering for the new organic line," she said, confused.  That line alone was worth just under five million and a substantial contract for the business.

     Mr Leigh nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. 
"You’re right.  That’s in the bag but they were so blown away by your presentation that they’d like to see what we could do with the entire product range."

    
"Jesus Christ," Catherine said and then coloured.  The other, quieter Mr Leigh was a good Christian man.  Luckily he was smiling too.

     Catherine could barely believe it.  She knew the presentation had been good.  She’d spent months on it, at times neglecting her other contracts and it was something she was incredibly proud of.  The late nights and early mornings had paid off.  Relief flooded through her body. 

     She wanted to hug and kiss everyone in the room but a niggling thought silenced the fanfare in her mind.  They hadn’t yet ruled out option number 3, that although her presentation had won the contract, someone with more experience would be drafted in to head it.

    
"Well?" he prompted.

    
"It’s fantastic news.  Better than I could have hoped for but…"

    
"Your new title will be Senior Executive, which incidentally is a new position and answers directly to myself."

    
"Oh my…oh Jesus…oh my lord," she exclaimed.

     Both Mr Leigh’s laughed out loud. 
"You’ll need to choose a team, starting with a project manager."

    
"Lisa Gordon."

     Mr Leigh looked a little doubtful but shrugged. 
"I’ll trust your judgement on the support that you choose and we’ll discuss the finer details of the promotion tomorrow."

     Catherine knew that he was talking about the salary but she didn’t care.  The point was that she’d got it.  Finally, the recognition for her hard work, for the time and effort she’d put into the project.  At last, she was being recognised.

     "Obviously your other contracts will be re-distributed amongst the other Account Managers, leaving you free to focus on the
Finesse
range alone."

     Catherine nodded gratefully.  They chatted for a while longer but she barely heard a word.  Her mind was already making plans to secure the other lines.  Her brain was buzzing with ideas.

     The two brothers congratulated her once again and excused themselves for a dinner appointment.

     Catherine finished her Perrier and floated to where she’d parked the car.

***

     As she pulled into the school playground the digital display told her it was almost eight.  She was nearly an hour late.  She grabbed her bag and hurriedly followed the directions to the classroom.  Thank God for the signs.  Although she’d dropped the girls off at school a couple of times she had no idea where their actual classroom was.