The Sisters (14 page)

‘You’re the eldest. You have to take responsibility for your actions.’

‘There are no actions for me to take responsibility for.’

‘You left.’

‘And I apologised for that. Jessica is the one who’s being stubborn. Do you think that I haven’t tried to reach out to her?’

‘You know what she’s like. You have to be…’

‘Oh please. Jessica isn’t a china doll. She can handle herself.’

Lucinda and Felicia who’d been standing by the back door both jumped as Richard slammed his hand on the table.

‘Enough,’ he said.

Lucinda closed her mouth as she saw the fear in his eyes. Not anger like she expected but the fear of a man who may be leaving a fractured family behind.

‘Life is short, Lucinda. I could either drop dead tomorrow or I could outlive the bloody Queen.’

‘Dad, I…’

‘No. You listen. I’m your father and I want you to fix it, do you hear me?’

‘Richard, maybe you should go back to bed,’ Felicia said as she approached her husband.

‘No, you want me to be more decisive. Well this is the decision that I’m making. I want my eldest daughter to fix this. I don’t know why you’ve chosen to come back now Lulu and I don’t expect you to sit here and tell me but you listen to me. You will fix this mess. Do you understand me? Fix it.’

‘YOU’RE REALLY efficient at taking your commission each month but when it comes down to actually doing your job you’re less enthusiastic,’ Lucinda said to the sales agent at Hemingway Glass Estate Agents. It seemed to be her day for dealing with teenagers. ‘So, what is this for you? Work experience?’ she asked sarcastically.

‘Erm, no. I’m the assistant branch manager. I’ve been here for three years,’ he said as he adjusted his glasses, which were slightly bent.

‘Well done you. Assistant branch manager. Your mum must be so proud. Look, six weeks ago I gave your office clear instructions and six weeks later nothing has happened.’

‘Ms. LeSoeur.’

‘Don’t Ms. LeSoeur me. I instructed you to terminate the lease but you’ve done nothing.’

‘I can only…’

‘Only what? Apologise. An apology is not good enough. I want them out now.’

‘I’m sorry but that’s not possible. We’ve served notice to quit this morning. We even sent it by courier’

‘What do you want a medal?’

‘But the tenants are still allowed three months notice,’ he said determinedly.

‘I can’t afford…look; it’s simply not good enough. Three months from today,’ Lucinda said as she stabbed at the fake wood desk with her finger. ‘Three months is too long.’

‘I’m sorry, but unless they agree to leave earlier then I’m afraid that you’ll have to wait three months.’

Lucinda stormed out of the estate agents. She couldn’t carry on like this. Financially she was starting to run out of purse strings to hold. She needed to get things moving but with children making music out of their bedrooms and a child telling her that she couldn’t move back into her own house she could feel herself sinking into a hole.

‘You will not cry Lucinda Angela LeSoeur,’ Lucinda told herself as she got into her car and drove home.

‘Are you happy?’ Lucinda nearly jumped out of her car seat as the male voice shouted at her and the sound of his hand slamming onto the bonnet reverberated through the car.

‘What the hell?’

‘I said are you happy? You really are a heartless…’

‘Stop it right there,’ Lucinda said as she opened the car door and stepped out. It was him again. The same man who’d threatened to call the police when she went round to her own house the other day.

‘Who do you think you are? Shouting at me in the street, attacking my car. Do you want me to call the police? Tell them that a crazy man is attacking women in broad daylight?’

The man took a step back as if he finally realised what he’d done.

‘She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need this.’ He thrust a crumpled sheet of A4 paper towards Lucinda. She took it recognising the estate agents logo. It was addressed to a Madeline Knight and was headed ‘Notice to Quit.’

‘It arrived this morning. Do you have any idea what it’s done to her?’

‘I’m not being funny but I have no idea who this woman is. And I have no idea who you are…’

‘Owen,’ he replied as he shifted his weight from one to the next as if there was something wrong with his back.

‘What?’

‘My name is Owen. I’m that woman’s brother.’

‘Oh. Well, Owen.’

‘Do I know you?’ Owen asked as he squinted his eyes. He was taller than Lucinda at 6ft 3 and looked as though he was still undecided about shaving off his beard or keeping it.

‘No, we’ve never met. Well only the once when you threatened to call the police.’

‘You haven’t been into my restaurant?’

‘Your what?’

‘My restaurant, Geraint’s kitchen on Portobello Road.’

‘No, I haven’t been there. Look, I’m sorry that I have to do this but I don’t have much of a choice,’ Lucinda said as she handed the letter back and walked towards the house.

‘She doesn’t need to be kicked out of her home. I mean, what’s the hurry? You’ve got a roof over your head. She’s doesn’t need this. She’s been through a lot.’

‘We’ve all been through a lot,’ Lucinda replied as she turned her back on Owen and walked into the house that wasn’t quite hers.

It was all very well and good that Ocado were happy to deliver your shopping for you but Beatrice wondered why that hospitality didn’t extend to packing it too. She hovered between the hallway with the discarded shopping, and the twins watching TV in the living room and felt that she wanted to cry when Sam began to release the full force of his lungs. She started to wish that it’d been her instead of Jake who’d disappeared up the M6 to Birmingham on a two-day convention.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t cope. She was more than capable of coping; she was just knackered and bored. Of course she loved her children but being a stay-at-home mum had never been on her agenda. She’d stayed at home for twelve months with the twins whilst Jake only had to endure a total of three weeks with his new family before he was able to escape back to his regular life of the office and a quick pint after work. He seemed to think that a text a day was enough to show his support.

‘Oh for crying out loud. Really? Now?’ Beatrice said as the doorbell rang. She saw a silhouette through the stained glass and prayed it was someone she could slam the door at. She stepped over the bag of satsumas and opened the door.

‘You wouldn’t believe the morning that I’ve had,’ Lucinda said as she stepped through the door. ‘Honestly Bea, I’ve had enough.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Beatrice said, more than surprised to see her sister on her doorstep. ‘Why didn’t you call?’

‘I did. I called you three times.’

‘You did?’

‘Maybe if you knew where your phone was. Bea, this place is a mess,’ said Lucinda as she kicked a jar of baby food and watched it roll towards the wheels of Sam’s pram.

‘It’s not that bad,’ Beatrice replied unconvincingly.

‘Hmmm, that’s what hostages say when they’ve been with their kidnappers for too long. Where’s Sam?’

‘He’s watching Teen Titans with the twins,’ Beatrice mumbled.

‘Aw bless him. He’ll be watching Batman before you know it. Mum always said that the television was the best babysitter,’ Lucinda said as she picked up the rest of the shopping bags and walked towards the kitchen. She stopped as she surveyed the chaos of the house. There were baskets of clothes that had made it out of the utility room but no further than the bottom of the stairs. The kitchen wasn’t in a better state. The twins had abandoned their cereal bowls on the table with the cups of orange juice that they hadn’t finished.

‘Come on you two. You’re going to help me clean up,’ Lucinda said as she poked her head into the living room where Theo and Issy were sitting transfixed. After intense negotiations involving a trip to the park, Beatrice was surprised to see the twins stand up with no complaints and follow their aunt into the kitchen.

‘God, I’m terrible. I should be reading them Keats or playing Canon in D,’ Beatrice said.

‘Please. Mum sat us in front of Crown Court TV and Crossroads. Your kids have got it good. Look, why don’t you go upstairs. Have a shower. Make up your bed and I’ll do what I can here.’

‘Sam will need feeding in a bit,’ Beatrice said, feeling unsure of what to do with Lucinda’s generosity.

‘That’s fine. I’ll give him some of that organic pumpkin and carrot stuff that I kicked on the way in, or some of this furry stuff. What was it, chilli?’ said Lucinda as she lifted the lid of a plastic container. ‘I think that’s a kidney bean. I’m not too sure’

‘God knows what it is,’ Beatrice replied as she ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

An hour later, Beatrice emerged from her bedroom. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had more than ten minutes to herself without a child calling her name or a baby pulling at her hair.

‘Bloody hell,’ Beatrice said as she walked into the kitchen. In the short space of time everything had been cleaned and put away, the dishwasher was on, and there was the faint smell of lemon fragranced Flash.

‘Right I don’t know what your parents have been teaching you,’ Beatrice heard Lucinda say. ‘But it’s time to move onto some Hendrix.
’
Lucinda started to sing as the sounds of Jimi Hendrix and his electric guitar filtered out from the living room speakers.

Beatrice stifled a laugh as Lucinda sang and danced with Sam in her arms whilst Issy and Theo threw various shapes around in the middle of the room.

‘Come on Bea. You love this one,’ Lucinda said. Beatrice couldn’t help herself as she started to sing along at the top of her voice.

‘Bloody hell. That was knackering,’ Beatrice said as she sat down on the sofa once the song was over.

‘Singing is good for the soul, Bea,’ Lucinda said as she handed Sam to his mother.

‘I can’t believe that you did all this?’ Beatrice said as she gently touched the clothes that had been folded up neatly into piles. The cushions had been placed back neatly onto the sofas. DVDs and books were back on bookshelves. Everything looked in order.

‘Someone had to.’

‘Jake’s away.’

‘Like you’re going to tell me that it’s any different when he’s here,’ Lucinda said as she turned off the iPod.

Beatrice didn’t answer as she walked over to the TV and swiped a finger across the black edge, sweeping along a thick film of dust. ‘God it is bad isn’t it?’

‘Get a cleaner.’

‘Cleaners cost money.’

‘And your point is what?’

‘We don’t have the extra money to spend on cleaners.’

‘What do you mean you don’t have the money? You’re the sensible one.’

‘Don’t overreact; we had to invest a lot of money to set up Jake’s company. There was a lot of work to do on the house. There’s savings and money put away for the kids so we’re not broke. We’re just being careful. Anyway, that’s boring stuff. Let me put Sam down, I think you’ve exhausted him enough. I’ll sort out lunch for us and I can finally have a conversation that doesn’t involve Loom Bands, LEGOLAND, and Peppa bloody Pig.’

Beatrice couldn’t cook and all attempts by her mother to teach her had stopped when Beatrice at the age of fifteen had caused a boiled egg to explode in the pan. She could warm things up really well but cooking, well that was beyond her. Luckily, she’d found Jake who could at least make a spaghetti bolognese from scratch.

‘What are you doing?’ Beatrice asked as she came back into the kitchen.

‘Making lunch,’ Lucinda said as she cut up spring onions, chives and red peppers and put them into a bowl. ‘Warm potato salad, haddock in pesto butter and baby spinach for us and cheesy pasta for the gruesome twosome over there,’ who were in actual fact not being that gruesome as they stood at the kitchen table attempting to butter slices of baguettes that Lucinda had cut for them.

‘I have haddock?’

‘Oh Bea. In the freezer. You really need to defrost that freezer,’ Lucinda said with a smile.

‘That was so good,’ Beatrice said as she pushed her plate away. ‘I can’t remember the last time I ate a meal without a baby sitting on my lap or with the twins behaving as if their dinner was an art project. Thank you Lou. So, tell me about your morning? What happened?’

‘Oh God. Well, Sal put me in touch with a few producers’

‘And?’

Lucinda huffed and picked up the empty plates. ‘His name was Haven?’ she said. ‘Can you believe that? He looked about twelve and was producing, and I use the word loosely. He was producing from a studio in the basement of his parent’s house in Clapham.’

‘Clapham is nice.’

‘Clapham is very nice but that’s not the point. I’ve worked with top producers out of multi-million dollar studios and now I’m resorting to driving around London to make music out of someone’s basement. We didn’t even do that when we cut our first demo.’

‘How much did that studio cost us?’

‘Excuse me. That studio didn’t cost you anything but it cost me two grand.’

‘Did he really look about twelve?’

‘Bea, his mum answered the front door and I nearly asked her if it was ok if Haven could come out and play.’

Beatrice laughed out loud. ‘It couldn’t have been that bad.’

‘It was a complete waste of my time, Bea, and I don’t have time to waste. I then went to the estate agents and then…you know what, never mind. I don’t even want to talk about that. It was just so much easier before Bea. Now it’s so hard,’ Lucinda confessed.

‘But we were much younger then. We weren’t even in our twenties when you were dragging us around dodgy London studios. I think you’re brave to start again.’

‘It feels more like stupidity than bravery. It doesn’t even feel fun.’

‘You’re probably putting too much pressure on yourself. You’ve only just come back.’

‘I know,’ Lucinda replied unconvincingly. ‘But I want to love it again. I read in the paper that they’re holding X-Factor auditions at the o2 next week.’

‘Absolutely not,’ Beatrice said, outraged at the thought of Lucinda subjecting herself to potential ridicule. ‘You’re a million times better than that.’