No Sister of Mine (ARC)

by Vivien Brown

  Would it really be the end of the world if I took an evening off, left it for another time? No, the end of the world would be if something happened to my mum. Cancer was a big thing, a

  frightening thing. And despite my dad’s bravado, I knew this was serious.

  I wanted Josh. I wanted to talk to him, to have his arms around me, to spill out all my

  worries and my fears. Mum was sick, she had who knew what treatments ahead of her, she

  might even die. But Josh was miles away, living his other life, and no doubt soon to provide

  Sarah with the comfort and strength I so badly needed myself. No, I couldn’t have Josh, so I

  did the next best thing. I rang Simon.

  I was still sitting on the stairs when he arrived, his regular school outfit of tracksuit and

  trainers making it obvious he hadn’t yet been home. Although it had barely been half an hour

  since I’d spoken to him, he had already managed to grab a bottle of wine, two kebabs and a

  giant box of tissues.

  ‘I’m covering all eventualities,’ he said, budging me up and squeezing down beside me.

  ‘You might want to drown your sorrows, eat yourself stupid, or cry your eyes out. Whichever

  way it goes, I’m ready. Now come here and give me a hug.’

  I loved the big solid feel of Simon. I always had. He was like a huge, gentle bear, his

  arms encircling me as his chin came down to rest on the top of my head. The smell of the food,

  an inviting mix of warm meat and grease and spice, wafted from the carrier bag at his feet and

  my stomach rumbled.

  ‘Let’s eat.’

  ‘Comfort food, eh? And a little something to wash it down with.’ He hauled me to my

  feet and towards the kitchen. ‘Nothing like a full tummy to chase the blues away.’

  ‘Oh, Si, you really are the perfect man. Why did you have to be gay?’

  ‘Good job I am. Gay men make the best friends, you know. Caring, sensitive, and

  without all the messy sex and heartache stuff. No blurred boundaries when you’re with me!’

  I let him sit me down at the table and watched as he opened cupboards and found plates

  and glasses, pushed and twisted the corkscrew into the top of the bottle and poured the wine.

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  ‘Better?’ he asked as I took a long sip and he sat down, placing two kebab-laden plates in front of us.

  ‘A bit. I just feel kind of numb to be honest. Like it’s not real.’

  ‘That’ll be the shock. It’s not easy dealing with news like that, when you were least

  expecting it too. It takes time to sink in. Did your dad say what her chances are?’

  ‘Good, I hope, because they caught it early. But even so, you hear such terrible stories,

  don’t you? It’s just that word. Cancer. It sends shivers through me, knowing what it can do,

  how devastating it can be. But being defeatist isn’t going to help her, is it? I have to be strong, and positive, or pretend to be when I’m talking to her anyway. And to my dad. He’s not as

  tough as he likes to make out.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’ He stroked my hand, neither of us having made any move yet towards

  eating the food in front of us. ‘And this weekend I am going to drive you down there. Oh, don’t argue. I’m due a visit home, so we can kill two birds with one stone. Oh, sorry. Bad choice of

  words.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. But, thank you, Si. I’d love to go and see them before the op, no matter

  what Dad says about it not being necessary. If you’re sure.’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Now eat up. We can’t have you going

  all weak and fainting away, can we? Not when you’ve just promised to be strong.’

  Once I’d started, I was surprised just how hungry I had been. We even raided the back

  of the freezer for ice lollies and ate them in front of the TV, although I couldn’t say, afterwards, what it was we had watched.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, showing Simon out later. ‘That was exactly what I needed. To be fed

  and watered, and listened to.’

  ‘My specialities, Eve. A shoulder to lean on, or to cry on if you should feel the need.’

  ‘Oh, God, I haven’t actually cried yet, have I? Is that normal?’

  ‘Normal is whatever works for you. Crying will come, I’m sure. Probably when you

  get down there and it all becomes a lot more real. But for now, get yourself off to bed. A good sleep works wonders. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. I might even bring you a breaktime

  doughnut.’

  ‘Cure-all for everything?’

  ‘I wish it was, but it can’t do any harm, can it? And the perfect excuse to have one

  myself!’

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  I felt the shake of his laughter as I pulled him into a hug, then gave a final wave from the step as he walked away.

  The phone was ringing behind me before I had closed the door. I was pretty sure it was

  either going to be Sarah or Josh. They would have heard the news by now. My hand hovered

  over the receiver, reluctant to pick it up. The last thing I wanted to deal with now was Sarah’s tears, and the last thing Josh would want would be to have to deal with mine.

  ***

  Mum looked pale, but otherwise her usual self. ‘So nice to see you again, Simon,’ she said,

  clasping his hands in hers as soon as she’d stopped crushing me half to death in the hall. ‘And so good of you to drive Eve here.’

  ‘No problem, Mrs Peters.’

  ‘Caroline, please. Now, I know you can’t stay long, but you’ve driven straight from

  work, so you won’t have eaten. Do please come in and sit for a while. Have some tea, and I’ve

  made a cake.’

  ‘Then how could I possibly say no? Just for half an hour, mind, or you’ll have my mum

  after you. She’s probably got food lined up too!’

  Within minutes of our arrival she was fussing about hanging up coats, putting the kettle

  on to boil and generally keeping herself busy, something it was obvious she needed to do, while Dad hovered nervously in her wake and was quickly ushered away towards the living room

  with the promise of an extra-large slice of Victoria sponge.

  ‘So, how are you really?’ I said, following Mum into the kitchen. ‘And don’t just tell

  me you’re fine.’

  ‘But I am fine. Honestly, Eve, what’s the point in fretting? I’m not in any pain. I’m in

  the doctors’ hands now. Decisions will be made by those far more in the know about these

  things than I am, so there’s nothing more I can do, is there? And if the worst comes to the worst and they tell me they have to . . . well, you know, remove it, all of it, then that’s what they’ll have to do. I’m no spring chicken these days. Living is my number-one priority, not hanging

  on to bits of my body I can just as easily do without. How I look isn’t all that important

  anymore. It’s not as if I’m going to be parading around in a bikini now, is it? And my

  breastfeeding days are long gone.’

  ‘Oh, Mum.’

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  ‘Now, don’t you start blubbing. It’ll make no difference. It will be what it will be. No long faces. No tears. Just cross your fingers, and maybe say a little prayer, okay? Now, tell me, does your young man take sugar in his tea?’

  ‘One. And I’ve told you a hundred times, he’s not my young man.’

  ‘If you say so.’ She turned away to pour the water into the pot, her shoulders tense and

  rigid beneath her hand-knitted cardigan. ‘Sarah’s coming over in a bit, with our Janey,’ she

  added. ‘I knew you’d want to see her. Janey, that is. Well, no, both of them, I hope. It’s at times like this that
families need to stick together, support each other. And, if anything should happen to me . . .’

  ‘Mum, nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re as strong as an ox. You’re going to

  outlive the lot of us.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but we can never be sure about these things, can we? And if things

  don’t . . . well, then I need to know that you’ve got each other. No more silly fights. Your sister is your flesh and blood, and she’ll need you.’

  ‘She has Josh. And Janey.’

  ‘Of course she does. And you have that lovely man in there.’ She pointed towards the

  living room where we could hear Simon in mid-conversation with Dad, talking about football

  and the weather and how bad the traffic had been on our way down. ‘But Sarah’s your sister.

  She’s been at your side all your life, and nobody can quite replace that, can they?’

  All my life? We both knew that was far from true. I’d hardly seen her for years. And I

  didn’t really want to. Despite my feelings for Josh and constantly telling myself he had been

  mine first, and what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, there was still a little sliver of guilt I couldn’t quite shake off.

  I helped Mum carry the tea through and we all sat and ate cake and avoided any further

  mention of our reason for coming.

  ‘Auntie Eve!’ Janey, now seven years old and so much bigger than I remembered her,

  broke the silence as she came bouncing in, like a mini whirlwind, as if from nowhere. I heard

  the front door close, loudly. Sarah clearly still had her key.

  With Janey flinging herself at my neck and landing, laughing, in my lap, my first

  glimpse of my sister was through the tangled strands of Janey’s hair as it flopped across my

  face.

  ‘Hello, Eve.’

  ‘Sarah.’

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  ‘Off your auntie now, Janey, please.’ She sounded stern but I could see from her puffy eyes and flushed cheeks that she had been crying again. As if she hadn’t cried enough down

  the phone the other night, almost starting me off too, just when I’d hoped for a good night’s

  sleep and a chance to get my head around things. ‘We have grown-up things we need to talk

  about. Go and get yourself a glass of squash from the kitchen.’

  ‘And can I have cake?’ Janey’s gaze had latched on to what was left of the sponge.

  ‘Take that last slice with you. If that’s all right with Granny. And see if you can find

  Smoky, okay? Maybe you can play with him upstairs. I’ll call you when we’re finished.’

  ‘Smoky?’ I said, puzzled.

  ‘He’s Granny and Granddad’s new kitten, Auntie Eve. He’s grey and white, and he’s .

  . . how old is he now, Mum?’

  ‘Ten weeks. Go on, off you go. There’s a good girl.’

  ‘I didn’t know you’d got a cat.’

  ‘Your mother could never face having another dog,’ Dad said. ‘Not after losing Buster.

  What with us both still working. And all the walking they need, of course, and the scooping up

  piles of poo. But a woman at the baker’s was looking for homes. Her cat had had a litter – is

  that the right word? Five of the little scraps, and once your mum’d seen them it was all I could do to stop her wanting the lot! He’s a dear little thing though.’

  ‘But don’t kittens make piles of poo as well?’

  ‘Only little piles,’ Mum said, seriously. ‘And even then it’s only while he’s training,

  with a tray of cat litter and some newspaper in the kitchen. Once he can go outside by himself, we’ll give him a cat flap and we won’t have to worry about all of that.’

  ‘Until he digs up your best plants!’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport. You’ll love him when you see him.’ Mum’s face had

  gone all soppy. ‘Now, Sarah, Love, I have no idea why you’ve sent Janey out of the room.

  There’s nothing to talk about that we can’t say in front of her.’

  ‘I just don’t want to worry her. Illness, hospitals, cancer . . . well, it can all be a bit

  frightening, can’t it? It’s bad enough for us adults to cope with, but she’s just a kid. I’ve not told her anything about it so far.’

  ‘Kids pick up on things, Sarah. Me suddenly turning up out of the blue. Your puffy

  face. Being sent out of the room. She’ll know something’s up. She’s not stupid.’

  ‘I know she’s not stupid, Eve.’ Sarah glared at me. ‘That’s not what I’m talking about.

  I just feel I want to protect her, that’s all.’

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  ‘Okay, girls,’ Dad cut in. ‘Enough, all right? There’s no need to tell Janey anything now, is there? Nothing much to tell at this stage, anyway. And, Eve, I know you wanted to

  come down and see your mum before she has the op, and we both really appreciate that, but

  there’s nothing to be achieved by any of us sinking into doom and gloom by talking about it.

  The plan is to get the op done on Tuesday and take it from there. None of us can be sure what

  they’ll find or what might happen next. That could be the end of it, God willing. All sorted, job done, and no need to tell the little one anything at all. We can show you the leaflets they gave us, and I’ll be taking some time off work afterwards to take care of your mum at home, but

  that’s it. Nothing more to say. So, while you’re both here, let’s talk about happier things, take all our minds off it, eh? Now, what do you say to going out to eat? A nice steak dinner

  somewhere. My treat. No hospital talk, just all of us together again, having some fun.’

  ‘Okay.’ Sarah forced a smile.

  ‘Simon. Won’t you come too? You’d be very welcome.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Peters, but no, really. I should be getting going now. I promised my own

  family a proper visit.’

  ‘And Josh? Will he be back from work yet? Wanting to join us, do you think?’

  I held my breath. Oh, I would have loved to see Josh. I hadn’t spoken to him since

  Mum’s news and I missed him. But not here, not like this, having to hide my feelings and put

  up a front.

  Sarah checked her watch. ‘I could ring him and find out. He stops off at the pub

  sometimes on a Friday, on his way home.’ She pulled her mobile out from her bag and tapped

  in a number.

  ‘No answer. Shall I leave a message?’ She looked up as if expecting the rest of us to

  tell her what to do, but then seemed to make a rapid decision of her own. ‘No. Let’s go without him. Everywhere will be filling up if we wait, and I would like to get Janey home to bed at a

  decent time. I’ll text him so he can sort out his own dinner. Two more pints and a bag of crisps, probably!’

  Simon got up to go. ‘Well, have a nice evening, everyone. I’ll be back for you on

  Sunday, Eve. Around four-ish, okay?’

  I nodded, feeling his hand resting on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  ‘Right then. Just let me get changed. Can’t be seen out in this old thing.’ Mum stood

  up, gave Simon a goodbye hug in the hall, and disappeared up the stairs.

  ‘Is she all right, Dad? Really?’

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  ‘Coping in her own way, Love. As must we all.’

  I followed Simon out to the front door and waved him off as Sarah headed for the

  kitchen in search of Janey. Only Dad remained in the living room, and when I peered round

  the door I saw he had his eyes closed and was resting his head in his hands. I decided to give

  him a few minutes to himself.

  ‘Okay, where’s this little kitten then?’ I called, putting on my jolly voice. ‘Come out,


  come out, wherever you are. Time Auntie Eve had a cuddle.’

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  CHAPTER 18

  SARAH

  Dad wasn’t coping very well. Mum having to have a full mastectomy had come as a shock, and

  now that she had been back at home for three weeks and we were all learning to come to terms

  with things, the reality of it all seemed suddenly to have hit him hard, in some ways even harder than it had hit her.

  She’d always been the one in charge at home, much as she would have denied it and

  pretended otherwise. While Dad earned the bulk of the money and dished out smiles and treats

  and pats on the head, the real day-to-day nitty-gritty things, like the housework, the finances, the decisions about where to go on holiday, what colour to paint the hall, what to have for

  dinner, had always rested with her. But now she was bruised and battered, and, for now anyway,

  her zest for life seemed to have gone.

  She spent a lot of time in bed, feeling weak and sick after her first chemo session and

  dreading the ones yet to come. Even when she did get up and about, there were still so many

  things she could not do, partly because of the after-effects of the surgery to her chest and under her arms, partly because the chemo had taken it out of her so all she wanted to do was sleep.

  No hoovering, no heavy lifting, no driving, no going to work. Her appetite went up and down

  like a yoyo and she was a lot more careful about what she ate. She had decided too that in the

  interests of as healthy a lifestyle as possible, they would both give up alcohol altogether, just when Dad could have used a stiff drink, but he did what she asked. It was obvious he felt

  helpless and useless and hopelessly ill-informed, but he wanted to please her, to support her in any way he could, so the whisky bottle remained resolutely unopened. I wasn’t sure if he had

  even seen her scars yet.

  Josh was working longer hours than ever, and I did wonder if it was his way of avoiding

  me, Mum, the illness, all of it. I’d seen it before, when Janey had caught a nasty bug, and that time she’d come home from school to tell us she had nits, and when I had a particularly bad