We Are Family

by Nicola Gill

  Jess handed her the tea.

  ‘I really did think I was having a heart attack. That I might just drop dead right there in the middle of Dulwich Park.’

  Jess squeezed her knee through the duvet.

  ‘I keep thinking about dying. Y’know, since Mum. I should take better care of myself. For Billy’s sake.’

  ‘You’re only thirty-seven.’

  ‘I know but I’m fat and I don’t do any exercise and I drink too much. Mind you, Dad was tee-total and he played tennis every day and then he goes and dies in a car accident. Mum ate her own bodyweight in broccoli and spinach and she got cancer.’

  ‘There are no guarantees in life.’

  ‘I should at least take some exercise though.’

  ‘You could come running with me?’

  ‘I’d hate that!’

  Jess laughed. ‘You didn’t tell me about you and Jon.’

  ‘How—’

  ‘Billy told me “Daddy doesn’t live with us anymore”.’

  Laura picked at a thread on the duvet. ‘Sorry. I was going to tell you. Are you annoyed?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘Of course I’m not annoyed. I expect you were worried I’d be all “I told you so”?’

  ‘No,’ Laura lied.

  Jess squeezed her knee through the duvet again. ‘It must have been awful for you. I could have helped.’

  Tears welled up in Laura’s eyes and Jess took the mug of tea out of her hands and put it on the bedside table. ‘Budge up,’ she said, sitting down next to Laura and putting her arms around her.

  And that was it – the floodgates were opened. It was as if Jess being kind had released some sort of stopper to a previously untapped container of misery. Sobbing, she leant in to the hug, suddenly remembering how she used to climb into Jess’ bed almost every night when they were little. The two of them shared a room; by day it was a battleground – Laura’s mess was encroaching on Jess’ side of the room (marked by an invisible but immutable line), Jess’ lame posters were an affront to Laura’s sensibilities – but at night, when Laura was afraid of the dark, she’d creep across the rug and Jess would wordlessly move over a little and lift up the duvet. And they’d go to sleep curled up like two little kittens in a basket. The next morning things would be back to normal, the two of them bitter rivals in the battle for their mother, which Laura knew she could never win.

  Jess stroked her hair and Laura thought about how Evie had always told a story about Jess’ disappointment when Laura was brought home from the hospital and wasn’t the fun plaything Jess had been promised. Evie thought the story very funny.

  ‘Sorry about your jumper,’ Laura said, when she eventually stopped crying. ‘Perhaps you can blog about it? How to get snot and tears out of Cashmere?’

  Jess laughed.

  ‘Is Billy okay?’

  ‘He’s eating popcorn and making the girls watch back to back episodes of Trolls. He said he gets to pick the TV show because it’s his mummy who is poorly.’

  ‘Sorry!’

  ‘Don’t be. The boy will go far.’

  Laura took a sip of her tea. ‘Mum would be pleased. She never liked Jon. She used to refer to him as the “giant man-baby”.’

  ‘I don’t think she’d be pleased, exactly, but I know what you mean. Want to tell me what happened?’

  ‘Not really.’ Laura looked at her watch. ‘I should get going.’

  ‘Why don’t you and Billy have dinner with us and stay the night?’

  Laura was tempted. Jess’ house was so clean and tidy (really, her sister could teach Marie Kondo a thing or two about tidiness) and this bed was ridiculously comfy. Maybe she could stay here forever? She could steal all Jess’ clothes, just like she used to when they were teenagers (apart from the fact she wouldn’t get Jess’ jeans past her knees). ‘I ought to go – we’ve got school and work in the morning. Plus, I bet Ben would rather his mopey sister-in-law didn’t take up any more of Sunday.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ Jess said. ‘Ben would love you to stay.’

  Laura wondered if this could really be true. She knew he and Jess had a Sunday-night movie ritual. Surely he wouldn’t want her sitting in the middle of them, stretching the definition of what film constituted a ‘weepie’ (right now, Bridesmaids would probably make her cry). That said, Ben did seem to be almost ridiculously easy-going. Jess had once let slip that the pair of them hardly ever argued. ‘I really should go. Apart from anything else, I need to feed the guinea pig.’

  ‘Are you sure? At least let me pack you some dinner.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that.’ Laura’s voice lacked conviction. To be honest, the thought of not having to worry about sorting out food was an appealing one. She was happy to be mothered for once.

  ‘It’s no trouble. Remind me, is there anything Billy doesn’t like?’

  ‘Anything with any nutritional benefit whatsoever.’

  ‘Got it.’

  Jess was about to go out of the room when Laura said, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’

  ‘Also, you know how before you went off to university I kept telling you how I couldn’t wait for you to go and I was desperate to have the bigger bedroom?’

  ‘Err, yeah.’

  ‘I actually kind of missed you.’

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Then

  Laura would have preferred it if her mother had screamed and shouted. Instead her rage menaced just beneath the surface. It was all the more scary for not being out in the open – like an assassin lurking in the shadows.

  It had all started with a stupid remark of Laura’s. (How Laura wished she could rewind time and spool the words back into her mouth.) Evie had been regaling Laura and Jess with a story about one of her ‘fat lady’ customers at the department store. Apparently, the woman had said she ‘could not believe’ Evie had daughters of eighteen and twenty. She didn’t look old enough to have children at secondary school, let alone one at university.

  ‘She was probably just buttering you up, hoping you’d give her a discount,’ Laura said. It was meant to be a joke but her mother didn’t laugh. (She may have a great sense of humour, but only she got to decide what was and wasn’t funny.)

  Evie’s face changed immediately and Laura glanced across the dinner table at Jess to find she was looking stricken.

  ‘Well, now,’ her mother said icily, ‘it seems someone is in a bitchy mood this evening.’

  ‘I was just kidding Mu—’

  Evie cut her off. ‘Yes.’

  The rest of dinner passed in a blur, Laura’s stomach turning sour and knotty. Was she imagining it, or was her mother talking exclusively to Jess? Did she fail to meet Laura’s eye when Laura asked if she wanted more spinach? When she kept going on about how Jess was so kind and thoughtful that was just normal, right?

  The next morning, her mother gave Laura the briefest of grunts when she went downstairs, barely looking up from the newspaper. When Laura tried to talk about the night before, Evie waved the conversation away with a swipe of her hand, saying there was nothing to talk about.

  Laura’s stomach clenched. She knew from previous experience this did not mean everything was okay. For the next few days, her mother was polite – almost too polite – but frosty. If she was chatting and laughing with Jess and Laura tried to join in, her mother acted as if she was some stranger who had wandered into their home and sat at the dinner table.

  Laura was used to being hyper-attuned to her mother’s moods but, at times like this, worrying about them utterly consumed her. She tried harder and harder to please and was occasionally rewarded by a scrap. Her mother would accept her offer of a cup of tea. Her mother’s smile wouldn’t vanish as soon as they weren’t behind closed doors (however annoyed Mum was, she never showed it in public). But then Laura would be back in Siberia.

  Jess tried to help out. She pulled Laura into conversations, pointed out how much effort she had gone to with the supper. One time Jess even made a
direct appeal for clemency, but Evie just said she had no idea what she was talking about and that she was ‘fine’ with Laura.

  And then suddenly, one day, everything was back to normal. Laura could relax.

  Until the next time.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Laura wanted to hug her sister one minute, strangle her the next.

  When Laura was stuck at work on press day and the school called to say that Billy was running a temperature and they couldn’t get hold of Jon, it was Jess who went to collect Billy. ‘Are you sure that’s okay?’ Laura said to her on the phone. Jess said it was fine, that she was working on an Instagram story but she could go back to it later.

  Laura got home to find a waft of something delicious coming from the oven, and Billy tucked under a blanket on the sofa, flanked by Hannah and Lola. There was a jigsaw puzzle on a tray on Billy’s knees which the three kids were patiently piecing together. Her sister made a much better ‘wife’ than Jon did.

  That said, Laura couldn’t help but be irritated when Jess picked up one of Josh’s tiny sweatshirts that was lying forgotten under a cushion and said it seemed to her that Laura was always looking after Josh.

  ‘Not really,’ Laura snapped. ‘Anyway, Amy is funny and sharp and great company,’

  Jess shrugged infuriatingly. And? she seemed to imply.

  They argued repeatedly about Jon too. ‘He should be paying you proper child support.’

  ‘Give him a chance. We only split up forty-eight seconds ago.’

  ‘He’s always late when he comes to pick up Billy.’

  Laura made a mental note that she’d been a fool to confide in her sister the other day. She’d just been so upset about everything. Even now, she could still vividly picture Billy, dressed in his coat and wellies, standing with his pale, anxious little face pressed up against the window. ‘Jon’s not always late. Besides, it’s not like Billy was left standing outside waiting in the rain.’

  Jess had tidied up the flat. Laura felt a mixture of gratitude and irritation. On the one hand, everything did look much nicer; on the other, it was hard not to feel a bit judged. And Jess shouldn’t have thrown out the pasta picture that Billy had made at nursery without asking her first, even if it had long since disintegrated into a lone piece of penne on the dog-eared page.

  Another simmering source of disagreement was when they would sort through the rest of their mother’s stuff. It’s March already, Jess had said, (yup, Laura thought, I have a calendar) and she was keen to get it done as quickly as possible (of course she was). Laura said she knew it had to be done but she had enough on her plate right now (a bit mean as Jess was always taking stuff off her plate, but still). Jess said the mortgage company had told her someone could make an offer on the flat at any minute, Laura said screw the mortgage company, they were the ones who sold Evie that terrible reverse equity deal. If they got a buyer, that buyer would have to wait.

  Jess got on Laura’s nerves when she nagged her about her health too. Was she really taking Gaviscon again? She must get through litres of the stuff. Had she had any more panic attacks?

  Laura lied and said she hadn’t. Well, it was only one and there was no point getting Jess agitated. As it was though, she went on and on and on. Had Laura thought about yoga?

  Yoga? Laura hated bloody yoga at the best of times. All those disgusting feet. Not a single laugh when someone let out a fanny fart.

  What about meditation or counselling?

  Shut up, Laura thought, or I’ll have a panic attack right now.

  She couldn’t deny her sister was a huge help though. When there was an issue about who would pick up Billy next Tuesday because Jon was going to a gig, Jess quickly offered to step in. Laura was hesitant to accept. She felt like Jess was doing her too many favours at the moment, that there was no such thing as a free lunch. Also, the two of them were seeing each other more than they had in years.

  When they were kids, although they were bitter rivals, they were together all the time. However much your straight-A, captain-of-the-netball-team, didn’t-even-have-spots sister got on your nerves, she was just there. And, however much you claimed she annoyed you, you didn’t always want to get away from her when you had the chance. Especially if she had friends or a boyfriend over – then you stuck to her like glue.

  But as soon as Jess went to uni, a chasm opened up between them as their lives went in different directions. While Jess got herself a job in management consultancy, working twelve-hour days, Laura became a wild party girl. And while Jess was settling down with her uni sweetheart, Ben, Laura was going through a string of more and more unsuitable boyfriends.

  The two of them rarely saw each other and barely spoke, their news of each other coming via their mother, who managed, Laura noted, to always fan the flames of competition from afar. Every update about Jess carried the unspoken addendum: Why can’t you be more like her?

  Once Laura had had Billy, they saw each other a bit more, but still not that much. By the time they’d exhausted the subject of Arsenal’s back four, Jon and Ben had little to say to each other and Jon was always going on about how bourgeois Jess and Ben were (Laura, to her shame, rarely putting up a word of defence).

  Now Laura and Jess suddenly seemed to be seeing each other all the time and it made Laura nervous because everyone knew what familiarity breeds.

  The Tuesday Jon was at the gig, Laura arrived at her sister’s to find Jess had just de-loused Billy. ‘I noticed he was scratching his head all the time so I thought it was best to get onto it quickly,’ Jess said.

  Laura nodded. ‘Thanks. Did you wet comb?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘No, I always find that so faffy and time-consuming. I used a head lice treatment.’

  Laura had always tried to avoid using the chemical treatments. Ironically, she had almost resorted to them recently so she probably would have said yes if Jess had asked her first. If.

  ‘Auntie Jess is much gentler and quicker than you are,’ Billy said.

  ‘Come on, Billy,’ Lola said. ‘It’s time to play Hungry Hippos now.’

  Lola was super-bossy. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

  ‘Want a drink?’ Jess said. ‘A soft drink?’

  Laura felt a stab of irritation. Why was she specifically being offered a soft drink?

  ‘A glass of wine would be nice.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just – you did tell me you wanted to cut down on your drinking. And when I tidied the flat the other week, there were quite a few wine bottles in the recycling.’

  Dear God! Was Laura really being judged on the contents of her recycling bin? And why did her sister persist in treating her like she was still some dumb-ass sixteen-year-old?

  ‘Careful, Jess. When you open your mouth, sometimes Mum comes out.’

  Jess looked stung and Laura immediately felt guilty. Jess had helped her out so many times recently. And she meant well.

  When she was a kid, Laura had read Little Women and felt unbearably sad that she didn’t love her sister with the same fierce and unequivocal devotion that Jo did Beth. What was wrong with her?

  Decades later she was still asking herself the same question.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Laura was sitting at her desk daydreaming about the job at Inlustris. Maybe she should apply for it? Sure, it was a long-shot, but what did she have to lose, really?

  She looked across the desk at Lisa. Like almost everyone else around here, Lisa was almost comically young. Looking at them all set off a voice inside Laura’s head: You’re too old now. You’re no longer exciting or important. You don’t matter. You never really did.

  Laura tried to block out the voice but it laughed at her: Think you could get that job at Inlustris? Are you crazy?

  Laura had once considered herself creative – a good writer, passionate, curious. Now she seemed to be perpetually exhausted. She
could barely remember to buy loo roll let alone contemplate humanity or be inspired by Sylvia Plath. People who were showily creative with their art or poetry or whatever just got on her nerves now because they filled her not just with jealousy, but with confusion about how she’d landed this far away from herself.

  The voice was right though. Laura just had to concentrate on the job she did have (and hope that all the office gossip about the magazine shutting down was rubbish). She went back to writing the week’s horoscopes and frantically started Googling where mercury was in Capricorn.

  When Dani had first ‘asked’ her if she could start writing the horoscopes Laura had spluttered in protest, ‘I’m not an astrologer.’

  Dani had raised one eyebrow. ‘Oh my God, Laura. Guess what – Santa doesn’t make your presents at Christmas, and there’s no such thing as the Tooth Fairy.’

  Right, six star signs done, six to go. What the hell was she going to come up with for Aries this week? The time for action is now. No, that was too similar to the one she’d done for Pisces. You have a choice to make. Yes, that was good. Everyone always had some kind of choice to make. Like: do I apply for a job I have no chance of getting?

  You have a choice to make so think carefully and consider all the pros and cons. This was such bullshit. Still, anyone who really believed their horoscope had only themselves to blame.

  As soon as Laura had finished this she was going to write Dear Laura. She was feeling guilty about not having replied to the woman who was struggling with grief. The woman sounded so utterly miserable. The trouble was Laura just had no idea what to say to her, other than ‘You put me to shame’, which didn’t seem entirely helpful. Who was she to be giving advice to anyone, quite frankly? Sometimes she thought she ought to rewrite her bio at the top of the page: Laura Fraser has royally fucked-up almost every aspect of her own life. Want her to fuck-up yours too? Here’s the address …