The Sisters (5 page)

‘That’s a bit dramatic,’ Reece said as he spooned another serving of lasagne onto his plate.

‘Don’t you have anything to say?’ Reece and Katelyn were twins but were complete opposites on the personality spectrum. Katelyn had the fiery and stubborn temperament of her mother and her aunt Jessica, whilst Reece was calm and measured but with the calculating qualities of his father.

‘I know that dad is bankrupt. In fact everyone knows. You could have just told us. You didn’t have to keep it a secret.’

‘You haven’t had any problems, have you? I mean at school.’

Reece shook his head. ‘Mackenzie Fuller’s dad was made bankrupt last Christmas. He lost all his money in a ponzi scheme. Cameron’s parents filed for bankruptcy last month.’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘People talk and Twitter. Too many people trying to live large, mom. What’s that thing that grandpa says? Oh yeah, champagne lifestyle with lemonade money,’ Reece said as he chuckled to himself.

‘We weren’t trying to live large. Your dad just made a few mistakes. Look, there’s nothing wrong with a fresh start. A move will be good for us.’

‘But mom, we can have a fresh start in New York. We don’t have to leave the country.’

‘Baby. I wish we could but it can’t work.’

‘It can’t work for you but what about me and Katie?’ Reece said.

There were times when Lucinda wondered when exactly her son had morphed from a 14-year-old boy into a 40-year-old man.

‘Reece, believe me. I’ve thought of everything that I could do but it’s not going to happen.’

‘You could get a job.’

Lucinda stared at her son and was starting to wish that he’d just thrown a tantrum like his sister instead of asking sensible questions. The thought of being part of someone’s payroll sent a shiver down her spine. She hadn’t been technically employed since 1990 and that had just been a part-time job in Our Price. Other than holding a microphone and being able to hit a high E, what skills did she have? God, she’d been such a fool.

‘Look, I’ll make a deal with you,’ Lucinda said. ‘We’ll give it six months and if it doesn’t work then we’ll come home.’

‘But what are you going to do for six months?’ Reece asked as he picked up the last piece of garlic bread and pushed it into his mouth. Lucinda’s mouth kicked into gear before her brain did.

‘I’m going to make an album. I’ve already started talking to a really amazing producer and your aunt Jessica has started looking at other projects for me.’

Reece slowly chewed his garlic bread as he watched his mother. Even though Jessica kept in touch with her niece and nephew he couldn’t remember the last time that his mum had spoken to his aunt.

‘Auntie Jess is going to help you?’

‘Of course she is. Why wouldn’t she? We’re sisters.’

‘DON’T GET me wrong, you’ve never been much of a looker but you don’t look ill,’ Stephen said as he took a sip of his pint.

‘Shut up,’ Richard replied. It was late afternoon and they almost had the Greenwich Tavern to themselves now that the lunch crowd had returned to work and the tourists had left to continue getting lost. ‘How’s the book going?’ Richard asked.

‘Slowly, badly. It’s crap. I might burn it.’

‘If it’s crap then I don’t want to be in it.’

‘Oh that’s a shame because you’re the main character. So go on. Tell me. How’s Fliss taking it?’ Stephen asked.

‘Badly. She wants a second opinion but I know that it’s in there.’

‘But it couldn’t hurt mate. I mean, they could have made a mistake. Look at Dominic?’

‘Who?’

‘You know Dominic. He used to work at
The Guardian
with me. Looked like Scrooge McDuck.’

‘Oh him. I remember him. Didn’t he leave his wife for a man?’

‘A 25-year-old no less. He had testicular cancer and was told it was terminal. He was given six months and that was eight years ago.’

‘So you’re telling me that I’m going to live for another eight years and then I’m going to declare my undying love for you.’

‘Well, I’ve always loved your eyes,’ Stephen said. They both laughed. It was hard to believe that these were two men in their sixties as they sat there sniggering like a pair of schoolboys. They’d been friends for nearly 50 years and had first met in a school playground in Queens Park.

Richard was 15-years-old and had just arrived from Grenada. Despite wearing a woolly coat and a thick school scarf that concealed half his face he stood shivering at the back of the playground. Whilst he tried to figure out how he was going to convince his parents to put him on the first plane back to Grenada he noticed that a gang of sixth form boys were determined to beat the shit out of a mouthy Irish 15-year-old boy. Richard had stepped in and had spent the rest of the week in detention with Stephen. They’d been best friends ever since and were now brother-in-laws after Stephen had finally, after years of relentlessly pursuing her, married Richard’s twin sister, Rachel.

‘In case you’re wondering,’ Stephen said, ‘I haven’t said anything to Rachel. I didn’t want to tell her over the phone. But saying that I’m surprised she doesn’t know already; considering your twin telepathy.’

‘Let her enjoy her holiday. You can tell her when she gets back.’

‘I hardly call a yoga retreat a holiday. How boring is that? Anyway, are you sure you don’t want to tell her yourself?’

‘What’s the point? If I tell her she’ll only end up having a go at you for not telling her earlier.’ Stephen nodded and downed half of his pint in one go. To this day, Richard had never met anyone who could drink a pint quicker than Stephen.

‘You should have gone with her,’ Richard said with a grin on his face. ‘A bit of chanting, downward facing dog and green tea would have done wonders for you.’

‘Shut up. Are you sure that you’re feeling ok?’ Stephen said as he noticed that Richard seemed to struggling with his pint and had only managed to drink a third of it. Richard sighed and his shoulders slumped.

‘I feel tired. I don’t have much of an appetite but other than that I feel fine. I don’t feel as though I’ve got an expiration date over my head.’

‘What are you doing?’ said Richard when he noticed that Stephen had stopped listening and was tapping away on his phone.

‘Looking up the pancreas on Wikipedia. I ain’t got a clue what it does.’

‘Ask Fliss, she’ll tell you. By the time I’m in the ground she’ll be an expert.’

The men left the pub without Richard finishing his pint. They walked through the park. It was another exceptionally hot day. It briefly occurred to Richard that he might not see the end of the summer as they walked past couples, families and groups of friends spread out on the grass enjoying the heat wave.

‘To my beloved husband Edward. Who loved to sit here and watch the birds,’ Stephen read out the dedication on a brass plaque on the bench. ‘Watch the birds, my arse? I bet you any money that her beloved Edward wasn’t sitting here watching the pigeons,’ Stephen said as he pointed at a couple of girls dressed in identical uniforms of denim shorts and camisoles, watching a group of boys playing football.

‘I’m worried about the girls. Not those girls but my girls,’ Richard said.

Stephen knew that the relationship between his nieces was strained and it saddened him. He was as close to them as their own father and had joined Felicia as the voices of descent when Lucinda had excitedly told them on a Sunday afternoon that she planned to go into the music business. At the time, Stephen had been the Arts Editor for
The Guardian
and had been to more than his fair share of showbiz parties. He was reluctant for his nieces to be exposed to the harsh realities of the music world, even worse be exploited professionally and physically.

‘How did they take it?’

‘You know what they’re like, Emma and Jessica are just like their mum; determined to find a cure, get a second opinion. Bea has been calling every other day to make sure that I’m ok.’

‘And Lou?’

‘Nothing.’

‘That’s not like her.’

‘Well to be fair, I haven’t told her.’

‘You can’t do that, Rick. Just because she’s living in New York doesn’t mean…’

‘I was going to tell her. I tried to call her on Friday, well Jessica tried.’

‘Jessica?’

‘Don’t get too excited. They didn’t speak but according to Bea, Lou is coming back. For good.’

‘Lou is coming back? Why?’

‘I don’t know all the details. Bea mentioned it on Sunday and Fliss spoke to her this morning but from the sounds of things I don’t think it was much of a conversation. And then Fliss got pissed at me when I told her not to tell Lou about…about the cancer. Anyway, the most important thing is that she’s coming home. I’ll be able to spend time with her, Katelyn and Reece.’

‘You hope. Remember they’re teenagers. I love Lucinda as if she’s my own and technically as her godfather I’m supposed to look after her when you finally kick the bucket.’

‘She’s 43. I don’t know how she’s going to feel moving in with you and you tell her that it’s past her bedtime. Look, all I’ve got left is hope, Steve. Who knows how long I really have left? All I really want is for the girls to sort themselves out. They’re sisters but they’re so disjointed. God alone knows why Lou and Jessica haven’t spoken for years. Emma and Lou have no relationship to speak off, and Bea just tries to keep the peace. I want them to sort it out. They don’t have to be the best of friends but they need to forgive each other and move on. I want them to remember that they’re sisters. Life is too short.’

‘Are you avoiding me?’ Lucinda said as she walked into the garden with her iPad and sat down on the grass. It was the only part of her three-storey town house, which did not look like a bombsite. She had to decide between spending what little money she had on shipping her family’s belongings over to London or paying for a removal company to pack for her. So she’d decided to do it herself and was regretting every minute of it, which was why she felt she deserved to have a large vodka and tonic at 12.30 in the afternoon.

‘Why would you think that I’m avoiding you?’ said Beatrice as she slumped into the armchair. She shifted herself as she pulled out one of Sam’s toys from behind her back.

‘You haven’t picked up my Skype calls, you’ve ignored my texts…’

‘Lou, I…’

‘You haven’t replied to my emails.’

‘Lou, I haven’t been avoiding you,’ Beatrice lied.

‘I can tell when you’re lying, little sister,’ Lucinda said as she leaned into the camera, causing the screen to be filled with her large brown eyes.

‘I’ve just had a lot on. It’s not easy you know, with the twins and the baby.’

‘Get a nanny. That’s what they’re there for.’ Beatrice felt herself bristling.

‘Why would I want a nanny? And what would I do? Watch her whilst she looks after my children. I’m more than capable Lou.’

‘It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to bite my head off. Anyway, you’ll be going back to work soon.’

‘Lou, this is England. We don’t have to go back to work as soon as we push the baby out. I’ve got a few months to go yet. You never know, I may even take the whole year out.’

‘Yeah right. You wouldn’t last five minutes. Look Bea, I have a list of things that I need you to do for me. I should have all of my stuff packed up by the end of the week.’

‘Don’t you have people to do that for you?’

‘Of course I have people.’ The lie ran smoothly from Lucinda’s mouth. ‘They’re just having a break. Anyway, I’m going to send you an email right now.’

‘Lou, I really don’t think that I’m going to have the time to…’

‘Well, if you really don’t want to help me, I can always ask dad. He hasn’t got anything else to do now that he’s retired. In fact I’ll give him a call.’

‘No, don’t do that,’ Beatrice said as she almost jumped out of her seat.

‘Why not?’ Beatrice didn’t say, because dad has cancer, he may not have long to live and no one has told you yet, and she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from speaking.

‘Have you frozen? Bea?’

‘No. I’m here. Look, mum has got dad doing a hundred and one things at the moment, so send me the email and I’ll do it.’

‘Thank you sis, you’re a star. I’ve got to go. Love you.’

She never ceased to amaze her and Beatrice wasn’t at all shocked with the speed at which Lucinda was moving. Lucinda was a force to be reckoned with when she was determined to get things done. In the space of a month she’d sold her house, enrolled the twins in a private school, and found a house to rent in London as her own home was still occupied by tenants. When Beatrice read Lucinda’s email, the reality of what was happening hit home. Lucinda really was coming home.

‘ARE YOU sure you don’t want to leave Sam with me?’ Jake asked as he tried to put a clean t-shirt on Sam, who was vigorously wriggling around in a determined effort not to be fully clothed whilst his mum stood in front of the floor length mirror critically watching her image. ‘God, I look awful,’ Beatrice groaned as she leaned closer into the mirror and pulled the skin back on her face.

‘You look fine.’

‘Fine? Is that the best you could come up with?’

‘No, of course not. You’re beautiful,’ Jake said shaking his head, already knowing that he couldn’t win no matter what he said.

‘Beautiful? Have you seen me lately? I smell of eau de toilette baby sick and I’m still wearing maternity jeans. Beautiful, my arse.’

‘Yes. Done it,’ Jake said as he successfully got Sam into his t-shirt, lifted him up and smelt him. ‘You never answered me, are you sure you don’t want to leave him with me? I don’t mind.’

‘No it’s fine. I’ll take him. Lou doesn’t land until 11am and you’ve got your meeting at 2pm. The last thing you want is to be stuck if the flight is delayed or I’m stuck in traffic. You know what it’s like driving back from Heathrow.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘Of course I’m sure. You’ve worked too hard. Opportunities like this don’t come along every day and Lou would kill me if she knew.’

‘Yeah, she would,’ Jake said with a grin. Even though Lucinda was being a pain in the arse at the moment, his sister-in-law had always been supportive and had encouraged him to set up on his own.
“What’s the point of life if you’re not prepared to take a risk?”
That’s the last thing she’d said to him when he and Beatrice had gone to New York for his cousin’s wedding two years ago. Jake was a comic book artist who’d spent the last three years developing his own graphic novel series and was now in talks to develop the novels into an animated series. He’d rather be spending the time with his children or working instead of dealing with the stress of having a series in development and sitting through endless meetings. Watching Jake with their youngest son, Beatrice thought back to how different her life had been before she met him. She was only 23 when Lucinda had unceremoniously broken up the group and was still struggling to come to terms with the fact that she hadn’t seen it coming. She’d always thought that she and Lucinda were close; that they were all close. The break up shouldn’t have even bothered her because she never wanted to be in the group in the first place. When Lucinda and Jessica were singing into hairbrushes with a towel wrapped around their head and devotedly practicing their dance moves in front of Top of the Pops on a Thursday night she’d been sitting behind the sofa reading The Color Purple for the one hundredth time. She’d read incessantly and fancied herself as the next Alice Walker or Jane Austen, not Madonna. Whilst she was upstairs in the bedroom she shared with Emma, studying Pride and Prejudice for A-Level English, she could hear Lucinda, Jessica and their friend Charmaine, practicing downstairs. Lucinda and Jessica’s voices would float smoothly through the house and Beatrice would catch herself singing along, instinctively knowing that Charmaine’s low and gravelly voice simply did not fit. Lucinda knew this too and didn’t bat an eyelid when Charmaine decided to meet her boyfriend instead of turning up to the studio on a rainy Saturday afternoon in March to record a demo.