Rival Sisters

by Louise Guy

  All eyes went to the matriarch.

  Phyllie nodded and turned to face them, her lips pursed. ‘Just observing my lovely family. Missing my daughter-in-law and reflecting on what a wonderful mother and wife she was.’

  ‘I don’t know, Mum,’ Nat’s father said. ‘As much as I’d like to believe you’re standing there thinking lovely thoughts about Carmel, I can almost hear your mind ticking over. What’s going on? Is something worrying you?’

  Phyllie sighed and moved to the rustic wingback armchair closest to the fire. ‘I guess I’m sick of the fact that the world considers me to be an old woman.’

  ‘But you are, Phyllie.’ Amy stretched her legs out towards the fire. ‘You’re eighty-nine. That’s ancient.’

  ‘Thanks, love.’ Phyllie gave a wry smile. ‘What you’ll realise when you get to my age is that your body feels old and has aches, but your mind’s as sharp as it was fifty years ago.’

  ‘I don’t think of you as old,’ Nat said. ‘You’re amazing. I think you’ll be ticking along for years after we’re all dead and buried.’

  Phyllie smiled. ‘Thank you, Nat. But I think you’ll find some people here disagree with you. Some people think I should be put away – taken from my home and locked up.’

  Silence descended on the room.

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ her son eventually asked. ‘Who said that?’

  Phyllie looked pointedly at Hannah, whose cheeks reddened.

  Amy gasped. ‘You said Phyllie should be locked up?’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Of course I didn’t. I suggested we look into some assisted living centres, that’s all. There are some amazing places around, and if Phyllie was in one of those she’d have help available twenty-four hours a day. They’re also very social places, with lots of people her age to chat with.’

  Phyllie rolled her eyes. ‘Social? Yes, if you enjoy eating little sandwiches three times a week at all the funerals you attend. That’s why those places exist, don’t you realise that? It’s to put all the old people in one place, so it’s convenient to ship them off to the funeral home when their time’s up. They have a car on standby at all times for that very purpose. You know, like Uber, but for the dead.’

  Nat snorted. ‘They do not. You made that up.’

  ‘How do you know? Have you ever been forced to spend time in one of those institutions?’

  ‘They’re hardly institutions,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s assisted living, that’s all. They have very nice grounds and plenty of activities. You can join in with meals or cook your own. It’s flexible, and people rave about them.’ Hannah’s phone rang again. She took it from her pocket and declined the call.

  ‘Why aren’t you answering your phone?’ Damien asked.

  ‘She’s been ignoring calls and messages ever since she picked me up,’ Amy piped up. ‘She’s acting really weird.’

  Hannah’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m not acting weird, it’s just work and I don’t want it interrupting our night.’

  Nat looked from Hannah to Damien, noting his frown. Hannah ignoring her phone was weird. She usually put work before everything else, to the point that it irritated Nat. She imagined Damien was wondering the same.

  ‘Back to the assisted living.’ Her father’s gaze was fixed firmly on Hannah. ‘How do you know so much about this?’

  Phyllie’s eyes blazed. ‘How do you think? She’s done a full risk assessment of me living at home compared to going into one of these places.’

  ‘Have you?’ Nat gasped. She knew Hannah was obsessed with making charts and analysing outcomes, but Phyllie wouldn’t tolerate being the subject matter.

  Hannah nodded. ‘I have, and if you’d like me to show it to you, you’ll see unequivocally why Phyllie needs care. Did you know that the likelihood of falling once you’re over the age of eighty-five increases by fifty percent? That’s a huge risk. And a fracture in an elderly woman increases their risk of death by twenty percent.’

  Phyllie rolled her eyes. ‘This is what I have to put up with.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘I wish you’d take this seriously. Your house is too big for you to manage and the stairs pose a real danger.’

  ‘I want to make it very clear to all of you right now that I intend to stay in my home as long as possible. Ideally, I’d like to be carried out in a body bag upon my death, and preferably not before. You’re not to do anything behind my back, like sell my house or have me put in one of those places. Betty Mason’s children did that to her, you know. She died three weeks later of heartbreak. Missing her house and her little dog; it was a criminal thing to do and they ought to be ashamed of themselves.’

  Her father glared at Hannah before turning to Phyllie. ‘Don’t worry, Mum, no one’s planning to do anything like that to you.’

  ‘And,’ Sue added, ‘you’d come and live with us before we ever put you in a home. Your grandchildren’ – she stared directly at Hannah – ‘would be much better off working out how they can help you stay in your home. How they can come and do your garden, clean your windows, cook your meals and take you shopping, rather than spending their time putting spreadsheets together showing you the risks of staying there.’ Sue stood. ‘Now, on a more cheerful note, I’ll go and check on dinner. It should be ready in a few minutes.’

  Sue always served a favourite recipe of their mother’s at this dinner, and Nat had just put her cutlery down, savouring the last mouthful of the much-loved chicken cacciatore dish, when Amy turned to Hannah.

  ‘Aren’t you going to tell them your big news?’ The sarcasm inflected by Amy on the word ‘big’ confirmed to Hannah that she hadn’t been forgiven for being so short with her during the car ride.

  ‘She got a promotion,’ Amy continued before Hannah had a chance to speak. ‘She’s really important now.’

  Hannah’s face turned a deeper shade of red. ‘Not exactly how I would have told you all, but yes, Amy’s right, I was unexpectedly promoted today.’

  ‘That’s wonderful!’ Their father’s eyes were bright.

  ‘Tell us about it,’ Sue prompted. ‘Will it be a big change for you?’

  Nat noticed Hannah stealing glances at her husband as she gave them a brief overview of her new responsibilities. His smile didn’t reach his cloud-grey eyes. Something was off about Damien tonight.

  Her father raised his glass to toast Hannah, glancing at Damien as he did. ‘You must be proud of your wife, Damien.’

  Alarm crossed Damien’s face as he looked around to see all eyes were on him. ‘Sorry, I’m a little distracted.’ He turned to Hannah and took her hand. ‘I’m incredibly proud. You deserve everything you’ve worked for.’

  Hannah’s smile was full of uncertainty as she accepted his praise. Nat’s interest was piqued. Something was going on with her perfect sister and her perfect marriage. It had always amazed Nat that a man like Damien, blessed with natural good looks, kind, intelligent and with a smile that lit up the room, had fallen for her neurotic, control-freak sister.

  ‘When does the new role start?’ Phyllie’s words broke into Nat’s thoughts.

  ‘Not until mid-September. I have eight weeks to hand over some of my existing work and be brought up to speed with the new responsibilities.’

  ‘Let’s raise our glasses to Hannah.’ Sue held up her champagne flute. ‘A perfect day to celebrate some good news. Your mother would be proud of you.’ She looked across to Nat. ‘She’d be incredibly proud of both of you and what you’ve achieved.’

  They clinked glasses.

  ‘How about you, Nat?’ Sue asked. ‘Should we be toasting something that’s happening in your life? An opportunity at work, or a new man? A new interest?’

  Nat choked on her champagne and shook her head. Definitely nothing to celebrate in her life right now.

  ‘Really?’ Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘There must be something good happening.’

  Nat stared at her sister. ‘Why?’

  Hannah frowned. ‘What do you mean
why?’

  ‘I mean why must there be something good happening?’

  ‘I don’t know. I guess I just hoped for your sake there was.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Something less dramatic perhaps than you got fired or dumped or are homeless again. Pick one good thing from the last week.’

  Nat continued staring at Hannah. She really was a piece of work. Just because she was constantly achieving greatness didn’t mean they all had to be. She took a large gulp of her drink before speaking. ‘Let’s just say I like to keep things dramatic. In fact, you got two out of three right for my week so far.’

  Nat could have kicked herself as mouths fell open around the table. She hadn’t planned on talking about her current failures with everyone.

  ‘Oh Nat.’ The weary sound of disappointment in her father’s words reinforced exactly why she shouldn’t have said anything. If only the ground would swallow her up and she could avoid the humiliation to come.

  Phyllie, who was on her right, immediately placed a hand over Nat’s. ‘You poor love. What can I do to help?’

  Tears welled in Nat’s eyes. She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I was stupid and now I’m paying the price.’

  ‘Please don’t tell us you took another homeless person home?’ Hannah said. ‘We all know what the outcome of that would be.’

  Nat clenched her jaw, refusing to meet her sister’s accusing gaze.

  ‘You know,’ Sue said, ‘your mum would be incredibly proud of you for caring so much about people. If you took someone home, then all I can say is good for you. I’m sorry if that ended your job but your selflessness is inspiring.’

  Nat sighed, deciding to ignore Hannah. ‘Yes, I took a client home for the night as all the shelters and emergency accommodations were full. It’s against company policy, so I was fired this morning.’

  ‘When are you going to learn?’ Hannah said. ‘You were fired from St Josephine’s for doing the same thing and warned when you worked at J&J’s Support. Why would you risk it again? It’s almost guaranteed to get you fired.’

  ‘Because, as Sue has just pointed out,’ Phyllie said, ‘Nat puts others before herself, that’s why. Something we should all be doing.’

  ‘Not if it gets you fired; that’s just ridiculous,’ Hannah said. ‘You said I got two out of three right, what was the other one?’

  ‘I was given notice last weekend at my house. I’ve got just over a week to find somewhere new to live.’

  ‘Oh Nat,’ Sue said. ‘You poor thing. Have you looked for something else yet?’

  Nat nodded. ‘Unfortunately my references aren’t exactly glowing.’

  ‘Finding somewhere to live without a job isn’t going to be easy,’ Hannah said.

  Nat stared at her sister. ‘Do you think that any of your comments are helpful? I know I messed up, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and I know getting another job will be tricky, as will finding a place to live. I don’t need you being so condescending about it all.’

  Hannah’s cheeks flamed red. ‘I wasn’t being condescending, I was just stating a fact. I’m sorry if you took it any other way.’

  ‘You should move in with us,’ Amy said. ‘That would be so much fun.’

  ‘And listen to your mother telling me how stupid I’ve been, how I take too many risks and now have to live with the consequences . . . no thanks.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re stupid,’ Hannah said. ‘I just think there are better ways to do things. There’s that saying that banging your head against the same wall and expecting a different result is madness. That’s what I see you doing. Yes, it’s admirable to be helping people but not when it’s at a massive cost to you. There are other ways to go about helping without having to suffer yourself. I know you said no to the life coaching sessions but I wish you’d give them a go. The sessions force me to set goals and stay focused. I wouldn’t have been offered this promotion if I hadn’t made a plan and worked towards my goals.’

  Nat rolled her eyes. She knew when she’d handed Hannah the present back that it was unlikely to be the end of it. ‘Like I said on my birthday, I’m happy with my life. I don’t need a stranger giving me advice. God, I get enough of it from you for free, which I ignore.’

  Hannah folded her arms across her chest. ‘Maybe if you didn’t ignore it you wouldn’t be back in a difficult situation once again.’

  ‘Maybe if you stopped dishing out unsolicited advice I would relax and not feel like I was being judged the whole time. And don’t worry, there’s no way on this earth I’d ever want to move in with you, so you won’t be put out.’

  Phyllie clapped her hands together. ‘Enough. We’re here to celebrate my gorgeous daughter-in-law’s birthday and the anniversary of her passing. You two will stop your bickering and, Nat, you will move in with me. End of discussion. We’ll sort out the details later.’

  ‘But . . .’ Nat started to object.

  ‘No buts. It will help you out temporarily and’ – she turned and glared at Hannah – ‘hopefully get your interfering sister off my back about assisted living.’

  Nat couldn’t help but smile as Hannah’s cheeks blushed an even deeper shade of red.

  ‘There will be no more arguing tonight,’ Phyllie continued, looking from Nat to Hannah. ‘We are not here to act like children.’ She glanced at Amy. ‘No offence, honey, you behave a lot more maturely than these two at times.’

  Amy grinned. ‘And I have news too. Exciting news.’

  All eyes turned to her.

  ‘I was one of ten students to win something today!’

  ‘That’s marvellous,’ Phyllie said. ‘What did you win?’

  ‘A place in Equestrian. Studying the behaviour of the horses and learning to ride. We can also volunteer to work at the stables after school or on the weekend.’

  ‘No,’ Hannah spoke with authority.

  All eyes shifted from Amy to Hannah.

  ‘It’s too dangerous. We’ve had this conversation before and you know my feelings on it. This is not something to discuss now. We’ll talk about it when we get home.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve already made your mind up,’ Nat said. ‘Not much of a discussion.’

  ‘Stay out of it.’ Hannah was biting her lip, a sign her anger was escalating.

  Damien held up his hands. ‘Okay, this is a discussion for us to have at home. Not during Carmel’s celebration.’ His eyes drilled into Amy’s. ‘Not the best night to ask, Ames.’

  ‘Why not? Grandma would have wanted me to join the pony club. And the lessons through school are free. There were only ten places in Equestrian for this term, and I got one of them. You can’t say no.’

  Hannah took a large sip of her champagne, looking as if she was trying to contain her irritation. ‘Even though you never met her, you believe your grandma would have wanted you to put yourself in danger unnecessarily?’

  Amy nodded. ‘I don’t need to have known her. You’ve all spoken about how adventurous she was, how she loved horses and how if she’d survived the accident she would have got back on and kept riding. Now I can get back on for her. And anyway, in Australia only twenty people a year die from horse-related accidents, you said so yourself.’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘Only twenty. That’s twenty people too many. The figures of how dangerous horse riding is were supposed to put you off, not make you think only twenty.’

  ‘Twenty out of millions is nothing,’ Amy said. ‘You’re overreacting.’

  Nat stifled a laugh. Overreacting was an understatement when it came to Hannah. She grinned at her niece. ‘Twenty out of millions isn’t many, is it. I guess that means it’s safe for you to go.’

  Amy looked to her mother, her hazel eyes full of hope. ‘Does it?’

  Hannah shot daggers at her sister. ‘Of course not. Twenty deaths a year confirms it’s dangerous. People worry about dying from spider and snake bites and shark attacks, yet they don’t seem to realise that the deadliest animal of all is the horse. There are more horse-related
deaths per year in Australia than any other animal. Now, let’s change the subject.’

  ‘We’ll talk about it at home,’ Damien repeated. ‘Tonight is about celebrating your grandmother’s life, not arguing about things that don’t need to be resolved right now.’

  Amy’s glare was lost on Hannah as her phone rang, again. The colour, which had become quite red as she got more and more worked up, drained from her face as she took it from her pocket and glanced at the screen.

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ Phyllie said. ‘Someone’s obviously needing to speak to you. Go and answer it.’

  Hannah nodded before standing and pushing her chair back. She put the phone to her ear as she retreated from the room. ‘Hold on a minute, Martin, I’m at a dinner so I need to leave the room.’

  ‘Martin’s her boss,’ Damien said, in what appeared to be an apology on Hannah’s behalf. ‘I’m sure she won’t be long. She knows how important tonight is. It’s probably why she was ignoring his calls, she wouldn’t want Carmel’s night interrupted.’

  Hannah walked to the far end of the house, ensuring she was well out of hearing distance before clearing her throat. ‘I’m at a family dinner, Zane. It’s the anniversary of my mother’s death, which takes priority over anything you could have to say to me right now. I told you twelve years ago I wanted you gone from my life. You agreed I’d never hear from you again.’

  Zane laughed. ‘Should I even ask who Martin is? While you lying to your husband obviously hasn’t changed, other things have, which is what I need to discuss with you.’

  ‘Not tonight.’ Hannah ended the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket. She leaned against the wall, her legs trembling. She closed her eyes, the wretched feelings of twelve years earlier resurfacing as she thought back to what she’d done.

  Nat’s laughter infiltrated her thoughts. Bloody Nat. On top of everything else that was going on tonight, there was Nat undermining her when it came to Amy and the horse-riding opportunity. Her eyes jolted open. She might not be able to control the Zane Fox situation, but she could definitely make her feelings on this issue very clear.