We Are Family

by Nicola Gill

  ‘We really do need to sort out the last of her things,’ Jess said. ‘Clear the flat.’

  ‘We’ll do it this Sunday.’

  ‘This Sunday?’ Jess looked insanely pleased, like she might be about to break out into a little jig.

  ‘Chill out, or I’ll change my mind.’

  ‘Want a glass of wine?’

  ‘As a reward?’

  Jess laughed. ‘Something like that. Also, to toast you getting an interview at Inlustris.’

  ‘It’s only an interview.’

  Jess rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you can’t get the job without getting the interview, can you?’

  Laura pulled at a hangnail. ‘I won’t get the job. Anyway, how are you and Ben?’

  ‘Better,’ Jess said, taking a bottle of wine out of the fridge. ‘I mean, it’ll take time to get his trust back, but we’re talking. And he has even agreed to go to counselling.’

  ‘That’s great news,’ Laura said, trying to smooth down a particularly unruly curl. She gestured towards the hessian bag. ‘Should we move Mum?’

  ‘Nah, she was always on for wine o’clock.’

  Laura grinned.

  Jess handed her a glass of rosé.

  ‘To Mum,’ Laura said, surprising herself a little as she raised her glass in the direction of the hessian bag.

  ‘To Mum.’ Jess took a sip of wine. ‘We don’t have to scatter the ashes straight away. We can wait a while. Until we think of a good place to do it. And until we feel ready.’ She yawned. ‘Sorry, I was up really late last night watching about a zillion episodes of Queer Eye.’

  ‘You watch Queer Eye?’ Laura said.

  ‘Yes,’ Jess said, laughing. ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just always imagine you watching serious stuff. If you even watch TV at all, that is.’

  Jess rolled her eyes and gave Laura a mock punch on the arm. ‘I’m not quite as dull as you make me out to be.’

  Lola burst into the room, saying that Hannah was cheating at Bop It.

  ‘That’s a lie,’ Hannah said, appearing just behind her. ‘Just because you’re rubbish at it.’

  Billy appeared last. ‘They are fighting!’ He sounded quite excited about this, as if he was rather thrilled to have a ring-side seat.

  ‘Girls,’ Jess said. ‘If you can’t play nicely with Bop It, I’m going to have to take it away.’

  This was met with muttered protests but they trailed away, clearly deciding that they would rather stomach each other than have the game confiscated. Billy followed in their wake, looking rather disappointed.

  ‘I’ve never seen them fight before,’ Laura said to Jess.

  ‘Oh, they have their moments.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘I know Mum was always harder on you than she was on me.’

  Laura shifted in her seat. Where had that come from?

  ‘And I wanted to say I’m sorry if I didn’t always stick up for you as much as I should have.’

  It sounded as though Jess had planned this conversation; carefully selected the words in advance. Laura thought about one of her sister’s recent blog posts about setting aside some time on a Sunday to plan your outfits for the week. ‘It’s not your fault she preferred you. You were easier to like.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  Laura laughed. ‘Yeah, that might be Evan talking.’ Jess’ brow furrowed. ‘My inner critic. Yes, I have named “him” and no, I am not going mad!’ She thought back to the ceremony with Greta and couldn’t quite believe she’d gone along with it. ‘Anyway, I do actually think you were easier to like when we were kids.’

  Jess looked towards the hessian bag. ‘Mum liked me when I was her good girl. When it was all gold stars and yes, Mummy, no, Mummy, three bags full, Mummy.’

  Whoa! Laura didn’t know what to say for a second. ‘She always liked you best.’ She smiled. ‘But, no worries, because Dad clearly preferred me.’ Laura had meant this last comment to lighten the mood but Jess looked so sad suddenly, she felt an immediate rush of guilt.

  ‘Laura,’ Jess said. ‘Th—’

  She was interrupted by Billy belting into the kitchen looking for his dinosaur.

  ‘Sorry,’ Laura said to Jess as soon as Billy and his dinosaur disappeared. ‘You were going to tell me that wasn’t a very nice thing to say and you’re right. It was meant as a joke but it’s a rubbish one and I’m going to stop saying it.’

  Jess stared at her. ‘Actually—’

  Laura held up her hand to stop her sister continuing. ‘Don’t let me off the hook. I’m sorry and that’s all there is to it. Top up the wine, will you? That was more of a thimble than a glass.’

  For a second Jess seemed frozen, but then she smiled, rolled her eyes and refilled Laura’s glass.

  ‘I’ve been going to this grief group,’ Laura said.

  ‘Really?’ Jess said.

  ‘It’s called the Lilypad Grief Support Group.’

  ‘Lilypad?’

  They both started giggling.

  ‘Does it help?’ Jess said.

  ‘Not really.’ Laura took a sip of her wine. ‘You should come.’

  They both started laughing again and this time they couldn’t stop.

  Eventually Jess pulled herself together, wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Your evil is rubbing off on me!’

  ‘Yup. Time to shed this “good girl” thing. It’s getting boring now!’

  Jess rolled her eyes. ‘What are the other people like?’

  ‘Sad.’ Jess made a face. ‘Well, yes. But overwhelmingly sad in a way that makes you feel like they’re never going to be happy again.’

  ‘Sounds great.’ Jess said. ‘Are there any hot guys there?’

  ‘No,’ Laura said firmly. Because truthfully what was the point of telling Jess about Marcus?

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Laura opened one of the kitchen cupboards and was hit on the head by a flying bottle of Gaviscon.

  She had decided she couldn’t put off tidying the flat for a moment longer. It was all very well saying she liked the lived-in look, laughing at the likes of Jess and her mum for being uptight and saying her home may be messy but it was an organized mess, but actually, this had got a bit beyond a joke.

  Dirty dishes teetered in and around the sink, clothes lived on the backs of chairs and on the floor and there were so many small, sharp toys underfoot, you took your shoes off at your peril.

  The child who lived next door had recently given up violin and there had been a brief and peaceful hiatus before he started learning trumpet. He was practising now and managing to achieve the seemingly impossible by making Laura yearn for the sound of him playing violin.

  Laura wiped out the kitchen cupboard. This was good. Although she may need to speed up a bit if she wanted to finish sometime before Christmas.

  Billy was at Angus Murray’s house. Laura had messaged his mum to apologize after that day in the playground and she had replied almost instantly: Don’t worry about it. Also, Tanya is a total cow! x Laura had almost wept with gratitude.

  Laura started to deal with the huge and messy stack of papers on the kitchen table: letters from the school, bills, pizza menus, there was even a crushed packet of Gaviscon in there. Laura never remembered seeing a huge pile of papers in her mum’s place. Or Jess’ for that matter. Did the two of them pay every bill they got the second it came in? And how on earth did they ever order a pizza?

  Ahh, here was the application form to do the training as a volunteer grief counsellor (so much for the organized mess/I know where everything is theory). Laura had decided she would give it a go, and, yes, she might be ‘rubbish’ but she might just surprise herself/her mum/Evan.

  Laura moved into her bedroom and started scooping clothes off the floor. She came across the red top her mum had bought her and had a sudden image of the two of them giggling in the John Lewis changing room. The memory felt like a punch in the stomach. Jenni who ran the grief group was always telling them that you shouldn’t push your fee
lings away. That sometimes you just needed to sit with them. It wasn’t always practical though. You can’t turn into a shuddering mass of snotty sobs in the middle of the frozen foods aisle in Asda. Well, you can, but it unnerves everyone around you and you tend to forget the frozen peas.

  The bedside table was covered in clutter that was coated in a thick layer of dust. Books she would never read, a Lego spaceship, balled up tissues, hairbands, three bottles of Gaviscon.

  She had thought the flat would be tidy with Jon gone. In her mind, he’d always been the messy one. Tricky to argue that now though.

  It had been weird between the two of them the other evening. Laura had felt as if she was being pulled by two very strong opposing magnets. He was funny and attractive, not to mention the father of her child. But at the same time, she knew they weren’t right, that they’d outgrown one another. No, that wasn’t right – Jon hadn’t outgrown anything; that was the problem.

  She glanced at her watch and saw she had less than an hour before she had to pick up Billy from Angus’. There was no way she could get everything done today. Never mind, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

  She did have to clean the guinea pig cage out before she left to pick up Billy though. There was only so long you could mask the smell of wee-soaked hay with air freshener. (Jess had bought her an expensive scented candle that was purportedly a gift but also definitely a hint.)

  She would just tackle the bathroom and then the guinea pig cage before getting Billy.

  The bathroom was bad. There were a ridiculous amount of hair products, from mousses, to serums, to oils – the evidence of spending a lifetime locked in mortal combat with her own hair. By the side of the bath, empty bubble-bath bottles vied for space with bath crayons and foam letters. And, of course, there were the inevitable four bottles of Gaviscon containing varying amounts of viscous pink liquid.

  Laura picked one up to move it to the bathroom cabinet. And that’s when she realized. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually taken Gaviscon; the last time she’d needed it.

  Maybe she was better?

  Chapter Ninety-Nine

  It shouldn’t have come as a shock, really.

  Laura knew circulation figures were down.

  She’d heard the sales team constantly bemoaning ad revenue being ‘shite’.

  She’d seen the all-too-frequent closed-door meetings from which senior people emerged looking grey-faced.

  And, of course, there was the stark visual reminder provided by the empty pod where the Beautiful Brides team had once sat.

  But for all that, to have been sitting at her desk rushing to finish a story about a mum who was addicted to sex – just as you would any other Tuesday morning – and then suddenly find out Natter was shutting down still felt like a body blow.

  She sat on the tube clutching her carrier bag of belongings. A half-eaten box of bran flakes, a tube of hand cream that smelled far too strongly of rose and some photos that had been taken at the Christmas lunch – a whole lot of nothing, in other words.

  The only thing Laura had found on her desk that was actually significant was the letter from the woman who had been ‘knocked sideways’ by the death of her mother. Laura had gasped when she found the creamy-coloured envelope under a big stack of papers and realized she had never replied. She was a bad, bad person. She grabbed a sheet of paper and started hastily scribbling a reply. It felt weird to be responding in person rather than on the pages of Natter but since there was no Natter anymore, Laura was left with no real choice. She couldn’t remember exactly what she’d written now. Sorry for your loss … have you got a good support network … some people find counselling or a grief group helpful. Oprah, she wasn’t, but it was better than ignoring the poor woman.

  The girl opposite with the leaky headphones was staring at Laura and she realized she had tears streaming down her cheeks.

  The interview at Inlustris was tomorrow morning. Perhaps she’d get the job there and then all this wouldn’t matter? Not having a notice period to work could even be a good thing.

  Except she wasn’t going to get the job at Inlustris, and that was reality talking, not just Evan.

  The train had stopped in the tunnel. An announcement from the driver said they were being held at a red signal and he hoped they’d be on their way shortly.

  Laura felt like her life was being held at a red signal.

  A few of the others had gone to the pub, but Laura had just wanted to get away. She felt awful for Amy, who had a week off and was up in Manchester with her parents. Dani had asked Laura if she wanted to break it to Amy before she got the official word, and Laura had said she did because, even though things had been a bit strained between them of late, she still thought it would be easier for Amy to hear this from her and not some random HR person who then went on to explain how she was entitled to next to nothing.

  A sweaty-looking boy dressed in black asked Laura if she was okay. A small part of her wanted to be honest; to say she was actually very far from okay.

  Dear Laura, I’ve just lost my job …

  Dear Laura, I’ve just lost my mother …

  Dear Laura, I’ve just lost my partner …

  The boy had the smallest amount of downy hair across his damp top lip and eyes that seemed to be perpetually mid-blink.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Laura said to him.

  Dear Laura, I’ve just lost my mind.

  Chapter One Hundred

  As Laura walked into the swanky West End office that was home to Inlustris magazine, she took a deep breath and reminded herself, for what seemed like the one hundredth time since she’d woken up this morning, that she had to think positive.

  It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility she could get this job. She just had to keep calm and banish Evan from piping up during the interview.

  She sat on a stylish but deeply uncomfortable bench waiting to be collected from reception. She felt like her whole body was sweating; even her kneecaps felt damp.

  At least she looked vaguely presentable. She’d reluctantly allowed Jess to choose an outfit for her and even though she’d been sceptical about pairing the blue midi skirt with a bright green top, she had to admit it worked. She’d also, out of deference to her mother and ignoring her bank balance, shelled out to have her hair blow-dried.

  This job would mean everything to Laura and not just because of the obvious reasons like her now being an unemployed single mother. This job would be validation; surprising proof that she was in fact Good Enough.

  As Laura waited, she thought about her conversation with Amy the day before. Amy had been grateful to Laura for telling her about Natter before HR did, and had even volunteered a mumbled comment about how she knew she’d taken Laura for granted a bit recently. It certainly wasn’t the most grovelling of apologies, but it was enough for Laura. More than enough really – she had been content just knowing that she had drawn a line.

  A wisp of a person who barely looked much older than the girls in Billy’s class appeared and said she’d take Laura up to the fourteenth floor.

  They got into the lift together and the girl punched away at her phone as if Laura wasn’t with her. No matter, it was a good chance for Laura to gather her wits and summon up a few more positive thoughts ahead of the interview. Harriet had interviewed Saskia Fenner for Natter a few weeks ago and Saskia had said she attributed the success she’d had recently to The Secret. Apparently, all you had to do to achieve anything you wanted in life was to really visualize it. Laura tried to imagine herself getting a call later on today. ‘You got the job.’

  ‘Fantastic views,’ Laura said to the young girl as they emerged from the lift on to the fourteenth floor.

  The girl looked at her quizzically and showed her into a meeting room. She told her Liz would be with her shortly.

  Liz had been the name of Laura’s first ever editor; the one who’d given her a chance as a journalist. It was a good omen, surely?

  Visualize succe
ss, visualize success.

  Yeah, like that’s going to work.

  Shut up, Evan. Or was it her mum? Either way, shut up. There was no room for negativity now.

  A smiley and slightly dishevelled woman with a big, lopsided smile came into the room and introduced herself as Liz.

  Laura breathed an inward sigh of relief. She’d been expecting her interviewer to be some terrifying glossy creature but Liz looked friendly and normal. She didn’t even have great hair.

  ‘We’re just waiting for my colleague and then we’ll get started,’ Liz said.

  Laura surreptitiously wiped her sweaty palms across her skirt. She wished there wasn’t another interviewer coming and it was just going to be her and friendly Liz. It would be fine though – the other interviewer was going to be nice too. Think positive.

  ‘Did Becca offer you a glass of water or a cup of tea or coffee?’

  Becca was too busy WhatsApping. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  Liz raked her hands through her messy hair. ‘I’ve had quite the morning. We had a story drop out last minute and then I had to magic up four pages out of nowhere because the sales team hadn’t sold all their pages.’

  Laura laughed. This woman was so nice and, having faked positivity all morning, Laura suddenly actually believed that she could get this job.

  Then the door opened and in walked Tanya Webb.

  Chapter One Hundred and One

  Laura looked at the red espadrilles of a woman who had just got on the bus. She wondered vaguely if she should ask her where she got them and then wondered just as quickly if it was odd to be focussing on footwear when she had so many other more important things to be worrying about.

  Dear Laura, Is it weird that I feel kind of okay despite the fact that just days ago I failed to get my dream job (which I needed more than ever because I lost my non-dream job).

  Suffice to say, Laura hadn’t needed to wait for a phone call to say that she wasn’t going to be Inlustris’ new health and wellbeing editor.

  Her mind flashed back to the interview room. For what seemed like about a week after Tanya walked in, Laura couldn’t say a word and just sat there with her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish (slick).