Sister to Sister

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Sister to Sister Page 21

by Olivia Hayfield


  Her words gave him another jolt. They were Katie’s, after one of her miscarriages.

  ‘You know I’m not a believer, Maria. But that tired old cliché Everything happens for a reason – perhaps there’s something in it. We’ve all noticed how you’ve changed since you met Phil. You’ve become a warmer person, and people have responded to that. It’ll take you a while to get over this, but try and hold on to happy Maria; let go of angry Maria. Be part of the family. Eliza’s always tried to be your friend. Don’t push her away any more. Or me.’

  ‘Thank you, Father. For coming today. I do feel a bit better now.’

  ‘Would you like to join us on Janette? A spot of California sun could be just the ticket.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to offer, but I want to be with Phil.’

  Harry bit his tongue. She’d learn the truth, soon enough. And when she did, she was going to need her family. Thanks heavens Eliza had made him come.

  ‘Very well. But if you change your mind, there’s a berth with your name on it, less than a day away. It would mean a lot to me if you came. Remember that, sweetheart.’

  Harry joined Eliza and Cassandra in the kitchen.

  ‘Maria’s gone for a lie down. Any chance of a cup of tea? None of your herbal nonsense, Cass. Just a good strong brew of English breakfast.’

  ‘Well, Dad?’

  ‘There were hugs, Lizzie.’

  ‘Seriously. How did it go?’

  He sat down. ‘You were right, as usual. I don’t have the greatest report card where number one child’s concerned. I’ve promised to try and make amends, if it’s not too late.’

  ‘That’s great. I’m so pleased.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to come back to work yet. I think it’s time we contacted Phil, put him in the picture.’

  Maria joined them for dinner, and sat quietly as Harry and Cassandra shared memories. She was calmer, her eyes less haunted.

  Afterwards, Harry went into Cassandra’s office to call Phil.

  He was teeing off in Hawaii.

  Hawaii. The man who claimed family was ‘at the true heart of Christian life’ was playing golf on a tiny dot in the Pacific, on or around the due date of his first child. Even Seville’s private jet with a helpful tailwind from God couldn’t make Wales in less than twenty-four hours.

  Nevertheless, the poor blighter was in for a shock and Harry thought it kindest to tell him quickly, before he had the chance to assume Harry was ringing with good news.

  ‘Harry?’

  ‘I’m most dreadfully sorry, Phil. I’m afraid it’s bad news.’

  ‘Bad news?’

  ‘Maria’s . . . unwell. Mentally, rather than physically.’ He explained about the phantom pregnancy.

  Phil was silent.

  ‘So I’m afraid she’s going to need some time to get over this,’ Harry finished. ‘Shall I go get her, so you two can talk?’

  ‘No.’ There were voices in the background, then Phil called, ‘Play on, I’m nearly through here.’

  Harry bristled at his casual tone.

  ‘You might call it an illness, Harry,’ said Phil. ‘I would call it the hand of God.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s clearly a sign, a judgement on our marriage. I will need to pray to Him for a way forward.’

  ‘Your way forward needs to be off that golf course and onto a plane. Eliza and I are supporting Maria, but it’s you she wants to see.’

  ‘I’ll be in touch, Harry. Thanks for calling.’

  It had taken less than five minutes.

  Harry’s blood was boiling as he returned to the kitchen.

  He filled Eliza and Cassandra in. ‘He’s waiting for guidance on a way forward,’ he said. ‘A way out, he means. And good bloody riddance.’

  As Harry hugged Eliza goodbye, she said quietly, ‘Another big tick on that conscience score card, Dad. You’re getting there.’

  Maria would stay on for a while under Cassandra’s care. She’d have counselling at the retreat, and Cassandra would arrange a doctor’s appointment to make sure she was physically fit. Maria would let Harry and Eliza know her plans once she’d talked to Phil.

  Harry had a bad feeling about that.

  Chapter 28

  Eliza

  Another grim January to get through. So many months before the return of the warm weather. So many long dark nights to come, the face-numbing walks to work, the trees devoid of leaves, no flowers, the bitter wind whipping across London Bridge. And tights. Every day.

  Eliza and Cecil were finalising the structure and logistics of RoseGold. Rob was now working full time with Leigh in the Greenhouse, while Kit and Will were on contracts, working from home while RoseGold was still in development. They’d been burning the midnight oil while Eliza was away, refining Most Human of Saints.

  As she lay on the sofa, listening to them running through their latest revisions, it was like being back in their English tutorials. This was her happy place. Will was reading More’s lines, and Kit Henry VIII’s. The king was battling his conscience, deciding the fate of the saintly humanist, perhaps the greatest mind of his time. And, as Will pointed out, an Oxford man.

  Kit was cross-legged on the floor, while Will was striding about delivering his lines with feeling. At one point Eliza interrupted. ‘Henry wouldn’t say that. He needs to be more conflicted.’

  ‘Yep, flag that line, Will,’ said Kit. ‘He’s got Anne Boleyn on one shoulder and his conscience on the other. How does he feel about that choice? Anger and self-loathing. He knows a sentence of treason is morally wrong, but there’s no way he can turn back now.’

  ‘Poor man,’ said Eliza.

  ‘Tyrant,’ said Will.

  ‘Both,’ said Kit.

  Later, as they tucked into bowls of noodles, Will said, ‘Eliza, sweetness. As the Bard said, unbidden guests are often welcomest when they’re gone. Should we be looking for our own place?’

  ‘Stay as long as you want. No, scrub that. Never leave? But I might have to teach you to cook.’

  A few days later, the weather turned bitterly cold, and snow was threatening. Eliza was still at her desk at eight o’clock, reading over the draft press release announcing the expansion of Rose TV into RoseGold. She should go home, but the walk wasn’t appealing.

  ELIZA: You guys home?

  WILL: In the Dickens. Great pies. Also quiz night – Kit and me are killing it. Coming?

  ELIZA: See you there

  As she put down her phone, there was a tap on her door. She looked up.

  Shit.

  It was the first time she’d seen Phil in anything other than a suit. The black on black of his trousers and turtleneck sweater emphasized the alarming brilliance of his teeth and eyes – and the way those eyes ran over her made her stomach turn.

  She was alone on the top floor, apart from a cleaner she could hear vacuuming in the reception area.

  ‘Phil, what a surprise!’

  ‘I’m glad I caught you, Eliza.’ He shut the door behind him.

  How did he know I’d still be here?

  ‘I’m going to see Maria tomorrow. I thought it would be good to talk to you first.’

  So far, so normal brother-in-law.

  ‘That’s great news. She’s been longing to see you. Have a seat – would you like something to drink? Tea? Beer?’

  ‘Beer, sure. Make it a large one.’

  That didn’t sound very evangelical.

  She went over to her mini-fridge and poured him a glass. As she returned to her seat, he stared at her legs. Blatantly. Nothing subtle about that at all.

  Her spine prickled as she remembered the last time she’d been alone with him. It would be prudent to let someone know she was up here with Phil.

  ‘Sorry, I just need to send a text. I’m meeting our creatives. I’ll let them know I might be late.’

  ELIZA: R u still here? Phil’s turned up in my office. Feeling nervous ROB: Yep. Shall I come check on you in 5?

  ELIZA: Than
k you x

  ‘I’m so sorry about the baby, Phil. Such an awful thing to happen to you and Maria.’

  Phil crossed one leg over the other and sipped his beer, watching her carefully. ‘God works in mysterious ways, Eliza.’

  ‘So does the human mind. She wanted a child so badly she had all the symptoms. I’m afraid she was in a terrible state when she found out there was no baby. But I think she’ll come right, with your love and understanding.’

  ‘Eliza. Nothing makes sense if you don’t look at it in the context of God’s will. Why did God afflict Maria with a phantom pregnancy? Was it to punish me for being tempted by her position here at Rose, rather than by her suitability as a helpmate, which is what God intends a wife to be?’

  ‘Or perhaps it wasn’t all about you? For goodness’ sake, don’t say such a thing to Maria. She’s still very fragile. We need to give her all the support we can to get over this.’

  ‘Maria will be guided by her husband and by God. Not by her sister. I have to decide how to move forward.’

  ‘You do still love her, right?’

  ‘Maria was everything I was looking for in a wife.’

  ‘Was?’

  ‘I’m seeking God’s guidance.’

  Eliza couldn’t contain her anger any longer. ‘For heaven’s sake, Phil. Look, I’m no psychiatrist, but Maria had a troubled childhood. I expect her longing for a family has something to do with that. Her mum had similar issues – depression, fertility problems. She’s getting counselling, but she needs you. Go and support her, talk to her. Love her. Don’t blame her, or God.’

  Phil’s demeanour changed. The faux-troubled expression disappeared. He smiled, and stood up. In his black clothes, with his black hair, he was like a tall shadow.

  Eliza’s heart began to thump.

  ‘I’ll talk to Maria,’ he said, ‘but, frankly, I’m not sure she and I have a future together.’

  Looks like Dad was right all along.

  ‘But surely – you wouldn’t leave her? How would that fit in with your “till death us do part” vow? Aren’t your lot anti-divorce? I know Maria’s are.’

  ‘Corinthians tells us a Christian is not obliged to stay with a spouse who does not share his religious viewpoints, and that this justifies seeking a divorce.’

  ‘But she does share your viewpoints!’

  ‘We disagree on many points of doctrine.’

  ‘You guys can always find a Bible quote to back up your self-serving views. I bet there are plenty of other parts that say divorce is wrong.’

  ‘So you know your Bible, do you, Eliza? Are you able to give an example of such a quote?’

  ‘Enough, Phil. You need to leave. And you should know that I loathe everything you stand for. You’re sexist, you have no compassion, and you don’t deserve my sister.’ Eliza stood up, heading for the door, but Phil blocked her path. He looked down at her, breathing heavily.

  ‘While you,’ he said, ‘are shameless, with your short skirts and your red lips.’ His eyes fixed on her mouth. ‘A disgrace to womanhood. God sent you to tempt me.’

  She stood firm. ‘You know what? You should divorce my sister. Go ahead and do it. She deserves better. You’re nothing but a hypocrite who twists God’s will to serve his own ends.’

  He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. ‘So angry, Eliza,’ he said softly. ‘Someone needs to teach you a lesson.’

  The door opened and Rob came in. His eyes went to Phil’s hand on Eliza’s arm. ‘Everything OK here?’

  Eliza shrugged off Phil. ‘I’ll encourage Maria to agree to a divorce, on the condition you sell your remaining shares back to Rose and have nothing to do with this company ever again. Agreed?’

  Phil’s eyes flicked between Eliza and Rob.

  ‘I think what Eliza means,’ said Rob, coming over, ‘is that it’s probably time for you to fuck right off.’

  ‘Let me know your plans,’ Eliza said. ‘Email me. Copy in Harry.’

  Phil opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He left.

  ‘Holy shit,’ said Eliza, sinking onto the edge of her desk. ‘Oh my god, poor Maria.’

  Rob perched next to her. ‘You OK? That looked pretty heavy. Was he . . . do you think he was going to touch you?’

  ‘I need punishing, apparently. Something to do with my short skirts.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘Yep, Jesus told him to.’

  Rob smiled. ‘But you were right back at him – so bad-ass.’

  ‘I don’t know whether I want to punch someone or curl up and cry.’

  ‘Need a hug?’

  ‘Please.’

  He held her tight. ‘You want to go get a drink or something? Shall we get you out of here?’

  ‘I’m meant to be joining Will and Kit – it’s quiz night at The Dickens.’

  ‘God, the very thought. Is there prize money? That’ll sort their rent for the foreseeable.’

  ‘Killing it, apparently.’

  He let her go and took her hands, kissing them one at a time. ‘Can I come?’

  ‘Of course.’

  They left the building and set off for St Katharine Docks. The wind was bitter, and they hunkered down in their coats and scarves.

  ‘So Will and Kit are still at your place?’ said Rob. ‘How’s that going?’

  ‘It’s great. I’ll be sad when they move out.’

  ‘How’s your liver bearing up?’

  She laughed. ‘They’re different at home. We’ve been working on Most Human. It’s one reason I don’t want them to go. I won’t be able to be so hands-on.’

  ‘God, the girls at work all want to be hands-on with Kit.’

  ‘Only the girls?’

  Rob laughed. ‘Good point.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll oblige,’ she said.

  He looked sideways at her. ‘Does that bother you?’

  A fierce gust of wind buffeted them as they reached London Bridge, whipping away her, ‘No – why would it?’

  She took his arm, snuggling in. ‘Sheesh, this weather. Have you read the latest version of Most Human?’

  ‘Yep. Your boys are certainly on fire. We’ll be ready to green light it soon, once the budgets are approved by the higher-ups. Leigh thinks the US is key. She says we should go over there to meet with producers and distributors. Harry says he can hook us up with the right people.’

  ‘He’s been advising you?’

  ‘We were in touch while you were in Wales.’

  She looked up at him. ‘I told him what happened, with us. Not the details, obviously. Just that we’re waiting on your divorce before we’re a proper thing again. He thinks it’s a wise move – that I should focus on work at the moment.’

  Rob pursed his lips. ‘Hm. Have you ever thought maybe we should stand up to our dads a bit more? You always do what Harry wants. Especially when that means avoiding me.’

  He had a point. ‘Maybe. And as for yours . . . ’

  ‘Yup. I hate thinking how pleased he’ll be when we’re together again, his empire-building all back on track.’

  He grinned down at her. His curls were blowing about in the wind, and his eyes were sparkling in the dark.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She stopped walking. ‘Rob . . . ’ She bit her lip. The wind played with a lock of hair that had escaped her scarf, blowing it across her face.

  ‘Hair chaos,’ he said, tucking it back in. He stroked her cheek. ‘I’m waiting for my cue. You’re in control.’

  ‘Now’s good.’

  They kissed, and the strength of feeling that surged through her was overwhelming.

  ‘God, Lizzie,’ he said, when they finally pulled apart. ‘This waiting’s doing my head in. How am I meant to function? It’s torture.’

  ‘True. I guess we could try a spot of pie therapy in The Dickens? I’m bloody freezing.’

  He laughed. ‘Right you are. Lead on, Macduff.’ He put an arm round her shoulder and they headed off again.

  ‘That’s a mis
quote, actually,’ she said.

  ‘You’re such a nerd.’

  Chapter 29

  Eliza

  Eliza stood at her office window, pondering the Maria situation. London this morning was grey on grey, the sky leaden. Across the apathetic Thames the windows of the City’s towers were matt, as if there were no light for them to reflect. People on the riverside below were hurrying along, heads down, intent on reaching somewhere warm.

  What would Maria do now? Once she was recovered she could return to work but, truth be told, she wasn’t cut out for corporate life. She hadn’t fundamentally changed – at least, her values hadn’t – to the extent that Eliza was going to welcome her back with open arms.

  Her phone pinged.

  FRANKIE: Harry and Clare say hi :) :)

  There was a photo of Frankie standing between Harry and Captain Yates. Smiles and shorts, the sky and water behind them blue.

  ELIZA: Not fair. Soooo cold here! Hey – word has it you and the captain???

  FRANKIE: That would be most unprofessional. He’s my boss!

  ELIZA: So that’s a yes?

  FRANKIE: I love your dad now.

  ELIZA: FFS. When u setting sail?

  FRANKIE: Harry and Clare want to spend some time here in LA first so not sure. Can’t wait to sail this baby down the coast!

  Later, Eliza came out of a meeting with Cecil to find a note on her desk: Pls call Cassandra. Urgent. Her heart sank.

  ‘Cassandra? It’s Eliza.’

  ‘Thanks for calling back. I’m afraid Maria’s had a setback.’

  I thought you might say that.

  ‘Phil was supposed to be coming today. She’s been counting down the hours. He rang to say he’s been unavoidably called back to the States. What sort of a husband is he, Eliza?’

  Poor Maria. But it was better that this relationship was put out of its misery now, rather than later.

  ‘An ex-husband. Soon. He paid me a visit last night; we had words. Looks like Dad was right all along – he was mostly after her for her position at Rose. I think he’s going to divorce her. I actually hope he does.’

 

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