The Sister: A psychological thriller with a brilliant twist you won't see coming (23 page)

There is a juddering and a roaring. A sudden whoosh of air. I turn towards the Tube train thundering towards me. Step closer to the edge. I can’t wait to get back to the flat. Train lights rocket from the blackness to my right. Hands slap against my shoulders, shoving me forwards. My body instinctively pushes back, trying to right itself, but it’s too late. I’m thrust forward. My arms windmill as I fall. The tracks race up to meet me and I screw my eyes up tight.

E
smée paces
the carpet as I stretch on the sofa, cupping a mug of tea, trying to calm myself.

‘You were deliberately pushed?’

‘Yes.’

‘It wasn’t just someone knocking into you? I know how busy the platforms get.’

‘I thought I saw…’

‘Grace, I believe you think you saw her, but realistically, there are thousands of blonde women in London; millions, probably.’ Esmée spins to face me. ‘Are you sure?’

I close my eyes. See flashes of blonde. Pink leather. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t see her face.

‘I had a really strong feeling.’

‘Grace.’ Esmée crouches down to my level, the way I used to do at work with the small children. ‘If you think it was her, we need to call the police.’

‘And say what? I think someone tried to kill me but I didn’t see them, there are no witnesses and I’m fine.’

‘What about the lad that saved you?’

Who’d have thought that a pierced teenager, the sort I’d normally cross the road to avoid, would save my life? He’d grabbed my messenger bag, jerking me upright like a marionette. I can still feel the strap of my bag where it sliced into my skin as I was wrenched back to safety.

‘He jumped on the train before I could thank him.’

‘Let’s call your grandad. See what he thinks.’

‘No. He’s not well; neither is Grandma. He’d only worry. They both would.’

Esmée presses the heels of her hands against her eyes. ‘They’d want to know. What about your mum?’

‘She’s too busy with Oliver’s family. Look, I’m fine. I probably just got knocked in the crowds like you said. I’m jumpy at the moment, anyway.’ I put my mug down, the tea now cold and unappealing. Turn my mouth into a smile. ‘It was an accident. Anna doesn’t know I’m here, she can’t.’

But as I plump up the cushion behind me and lean back, I can still feel the imprints of hands on my spine. The shove. The fall. The fear.

* * *

M
y tail bone
rises and head lowers as I stretch my body into downward dog. It’s been far too long since I’ve practised yoga. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it. I exhale, transition into child’s pose. Tension eases from my body and my breath is slow and even. Crashing waves sound from the iPod dock and a warm breeze flows through the open window. I inhale, prepare to move into cat pose.

There’s a thudding on the outer door and irritation skitters through me. I focus on my breath again, try to reclaim my inner calm. Close my eyes. Listen to the waves. Whoever it is will go away. There’s a few seconds of silence before the thudding begins again. I crawl over to the window on my knees, raise my arms to lower the sash. There’s another knock. I glance down. Freeze, as I recognise the hand fisted towards the door. My arms are suspended in mid-air.

‘Dan.’ I blurt out his name before I can stop myself. He tilts his face up, pale and unshaven. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I rang Esmée.’

‘She told you?’

‘She said she hadn’t seen you, but she was really abrupt with me. I didn’t believe her.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Can I come in?’

‘No. I’ve got nothing to say to you.’

‘Then just listen, Please, Grace.’

‘No.’

‘I love you.’

I catch the words and screw them up, before throwing them back down at him in their new form. ‘I hate you.’

‘You don’t, and I’m not moving until I’ve said what I came to say.’

‘Suit yourself.’ I try to slam the sash down but it sticks and I have to rock it left to right to inch it shut. I feel my face burn as Dan pleads on the street below. His voice grows fainter as the window closes and I swish the curtains together, sit cross-legged on the floor with my back against the radiator. Part of me wants to hear what he has to say, but I don’t move to let him in.

The flat grows darker although it’s only two o’clock, and a bolt of lightning illuminates the room, rumbling thunder hot on its tail. Rain lashes against the windows and I tug the curtains apart, peer out onto the gloomy street below. Dan is shifting his weight from foot to foot, hands thrust into pockets, hair plastered to his scalp. A white van zooms past and a sea of water covers him. He splutters, wipes his eyes.

‘Please,’ he mouths as he spots me at the window.

I hesitate, nod and pull on a hoodie, run a brush through my hair before I open the door.

* * *

D
an peels
off his T-shirt and rubs a towel hard against his skin. I busy myself carrying the kettle over to the sink, even though I know it already contains enough water to make tea. I don’t want to look at Dan’s chest. See the freckles I’ve kissed. The shoulders I have cried against. I set mugs on the coffee table and perch at the opposite end of the sofa. The silence expands between us, filling the room, sucking out the air. I chew the inside of my cheek. I won’t be the first to speak. I’ll listen to what Dan has to say calmly and then I’ll watch him leave as I stay here with my dignity.

Dan drains his tea. Leans back. He clasps his fingers together and rests them behind his head, elbows jutting out to the side. He may look relaxed but his right knee is jiggling up and down and I know that inside he is squirming. He clears his throat.

‘My behaviour was inexcusable.’

‘Which part? Letting me believe I’d found Charlie’s sister or bringing your mistress into our home?’

‘She was never my mistress, Grace. It was a one-off. A mistake.’

‘A mistake that I’ve paid for. You killed my cat, destroyed our home. I nearly died. Is that what you wanted? To get rid of me?’

Dan looks stricken. ‘No. I didn’t. I want…’

‘I don’t care what you want.’ I’m sick of his excuses.

‘I don’t blame you…’

‘That’s big of you.’

‘Grace, please…’

‘Please what? Please forgive me even though I’m a lying, cheating bastard? Why… Are… You… Here?’ My pulse is rapid. I lean forward. ‘What the fuck do you want?’ Molten lava flows through my veins.

‘To talk.’ His voice is low and quiet.

‘I don’t want to listen!’ I’m afraid of what he might say, but at the same time I’m desperate to hear. I don’t know what to do.

‘So why did you let me in? Look, I know that I’ve been—’ his voice breaks. He inhales, begins again. ‘I know that I’ve been a dick.’

I nod. That much, at least, is true.

‘When Charlie died, you became so insular. So separate. I didn't know how to reach you.’

‘I’m so sorry my best friend died, she…’ Sarcasm drips from my voice.

‘She wasn’t just
your
friend though was she, Grace? But my feelings weren’t important. It was all about you.’

I sit back, speechless.

‘I’m not saying that’s wrong. I know Charlie dying brought back memories of your dad. You had a lot to deal with, but so did I.’

I twist a tissue in my fingers.

‘Remember, Grace. Remember how it was. You completely shut yourself off from everything. I was trying to support you emotionally, keep the house going, do the cooking – and you know how crap I am at that. I was scared to take time off because they were making redundancies. I wasn’t sure if you’d ever go back to work and I was worried we’d only have my wage to rely on. I was so stressed.’

‘You never said,’ I mumble.

‘You never asked how I was. Not once.’

I raise my head and his eyes, dark-ringed and bloodshot, lock onto mine. The same eyes that have watched me grow up, seen me grieve, drank in the sight of my naked body.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say and I am. ‘But… Anna…’

‘Anna meant nothing to me. She served pints and listened and it felt good to be listened to. To be able to talk about Charlie, and she seemed interested…’

‘Interested in you.’

‘It wasn’t like that. I wish I hadn’t…’

‘Fucked her.’

‘Yes.’

‘Dan, why did Charlie leave so suddenly when we were eighteen? What did she mean by the note? What did she need to be forgiven for? I know I’ve asked you before, but if you’re holding out on me, you have to tell me. ’

Dan scrunches his face in confusion. ‘I don’t know. But…’

‘Why did you move Anna into our home?’ I fire questions at him, not giving him time to think. He normally clasps his hands together like he’s praying whenever he lies, but his palms remain on his knees.

‘I didn’t want to. I was so scared she’d forward the film to everyone. You were doing so well: back at work, we were getting closer again. I didn’t want to blow it.’

‘She must have family, friends. Has she never heard of a hotel?’

‘She said she had no one. I thought about paying for a B&B, but you’d have seen it on the credit card statements. I couldn’t have explained it.’

‘Pretending to be Charlie’s sister, though? That was deliberate and cruel.’

‘I panicked. She called the night we set up the blog and everything. I didn’t know how I’d explain her any other way. I told her she could store her things and sleep in the spare room but not to get friendly with you.’

‘Friendly? She almost killed me.’

‘What she did was unforgivable, but…’

‘What you both did was unforgivable.’

‘I know. I never meant to hurt you. I thought she’d stay for a few days until she got herself sorted and then she’d go. You’d never find out about us. I’ve come to say I’m sorry. I really am.’ Dan drops his face into his hands and I know he’s crying, but I can’t comfort him, I just can’t. I collect up the mugs. Flick on the kettle.

When he is still and silent I pad over to the sofa.

‘Dan, you have to go.’

‘Come home with me.’

‘I can’t. It isn’t safe. Not that it’s safe here.’

‘What do you mean?’

His forehead creases as I tell him what happened at the Tube station.

‘My God. Come back, Grace. Let me look after you. Please.’

He lifts a tendril of hair and tucks it behind my ear, trails the tips of his fingers along my cheekbone.

‘Dan…’ I draw back, but he cups my face, rests his forehead against mine, and I don’t move, can’t move. My breathing is ragged; the rest of the room is sucked away until there is Dan, only Dan, and our lips touch, feather-soft. He releases my face but I don’t move; I groan as he thumbs my nipples. My thighs are wet and I squirm in my seat. Clothes are tugged, heaped on the floor, and I straddle him, his hands clasping my waist. It is quick. He grunts my name and pulls me close to him. Afterwards, I can’t believe what just happened. I scoop up my clothes, holding them in front of me like a shield.

‘I’d forgotten how beautiful you are,’ says Dan. ‘Don’t get dressed. Where’s the bedroom? Let’s lie down.’

The word ‘lie’ echoes around the room, bouncing off every surface until it slaps me to my senses. No matter what happened, or why, he deliberately tried to cover up what happened with Anna and I can’t forgive him for that.

‘I can’t do this.’ I wriggle back into my knickers, clasp my bra. ‘This was a mistake.’

‘It didn’t feel like a mistake. We’re good together.’

‘There has to be more than good sex…’

‘Great sex…’

I zip up my hoodie. ‘Things haven’t been right between us for a long time, Dan. It’s not just about Anna.’

‘I know. There’s Charlie…’ Dan pulls his T-shirt on.

‘It isn’t about Charlie, either. We’ve grown apart. I like staying in; you love going out. I like things tidy; you think I have OCD. I’ve always been too clingy, terrified of being alone, scared of losing you the way I lost my dad.’

‘You haven’t lost me…’

‘But I did, and you know what? The world didn’t come to an end. I’m still here, and I think, that despite everything, I’m doing OK. I think I need this. To be on my own. Figure out what it is I really want. Be honest: were you happy, before this, before Charlie?’

The words spill from my tongue and come to rest in a giant question mark in front of Dan, demanding an answer.

Dan pauses for the longest time. ‘No, I wasn’t.’

There’s nothing to be heard but the sound of our own breathing. Of hearts that used to beat together now marching to their own separate rhythm. Strangers become friends, become lovers, become everything – and then become nothing. A full circle.