by Nina Manning
I cautiously opened my messages, keeping one eye on my surroundings.
Not long to go now. How will you cope? How do you cope every day knowing what you did?
A sound reverberated around the office; it sounded like something large and metallic had been dropped on a concrete floor and I jumped so much I dropped my phone. I fell to my knees and groped under my desk while my heart raced, and eventually my hand clasped around the soft outer casing.
I sat back down in my seat, glanced round the office and let out a loud breath.
I was about to get up and investigate when one of the cleaners appeared in the doorway clutching a mop and bucket. They were late leaving today.
‘Morning,’ I said with a wobble in my voice. The woman cleaner smiled as she walked past me to the cleaning cupboard and locked up the mop.
I blew out a long breath.
Once the cleaner had left the office, I felt the anger bubble up at the injustice of it all. How so many lives were ruined and how all that love, all that beautiful young raw love that had been building and growing into something spectacular, had evaporated overnight.
21
August 1998
I stood in the kitchen in the silver baby doll dress with the halter neck. I surveyed myself a hundred times and then Reese came over. Kiefer was upstairs having a shower and hadn’t seen me yet.
‘Will he like it?’ I asked Reese.
‘It’s not up to your brother, is it, Frankie. For the record, you look amazing. Really grown up. I like that eye shadow. It matches the dress. What bag are you taking?’ She pushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
I showed her the white patent tiny rucksack that had just enough space for my wallet, keys, a packet of fags and small bottle of vodka. I intended to drink the vodka with some Diet Coke in the pub before the party. After I that I imagined myself buying Todd a drink with the tips I earned that week from the hotel.
‘It’s cute. Shoes?’
I went into the hallway and came back carrying white knee high canvas boots.
‘Sweet. You’ve got it sorted, girl. I’ll be taking some styling tips off you.’ Reese high fived me.
I coloured a little. I looked at Reese. Today she was wearing her long hair loose, the natural dark curls cascaded down her back. She wore a white crop top, blue hipster jeans that revealed her pierced belly button and canvas wedge platform shoes. Her toe nails were bright pink.
Just then, Kiefer came into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. He looked me up and down and then walked to the fridge and opened it. Reese shot me a look.
‘You wearing that tonight?’ he spoke into the fridge.
‘Yep,’ I replied nonchalantly.
Kiefer backed up out of the fridge with a few slices of wafer thin ham in his hand. He shoved them all in his mouth and then sidled up to Reese, slipping his thick arm around her tiny tanned waist.
‘So, babes, what do we think about my baby sister heading out in this outfit tonight?’
Reese folded her arms and tilted her head to one side as if she were assessing me for the first time.
‘I think she looks fantastic.’ Reese grinned at me and I grinned back.
Kiefer nodded. ‘Uh huh.’
He went back to the fridge and looked inside.
‘She is sixteen now, Kief.’
‘I know, I know,’ came the muffled voice of my brother. He spun round, shut the fridge and emerged clutching a stubby beer. ‘Right, what time are we off to the pub then?’
Reese and I exchanged a sly smile.
In the pub Nancy and I ordered lager and limes to start ourselves off.
We settled in our favourite spot by the window near the pool table and juke box. I sent Nancy over with coins and she put on our favourite Jamiroquai song and sashayed her way back to me. We sipped our lager and I stole surreptitious looks out of the window.
‘Waiting for lover boy?’ Nancy sniggered into her pint.
I pulled my mouth down. ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘He isn’t going to come any quicker with you rubber necking at the window all night.’
My dress had ridden halfway up my legs and I could feel a slight breeze as people came in and out of the door. The bouncer, Gary, greeted everyone with his usual charm and turned a blind eye to those who were clearly under the legal drinking age.
Once we’d finished our pints, I headed to the bar to buy Cokes for me and Nancy and then we put them on the floor and poured our respective spirits into them. I took a sip and winced at the strength of the alcohol that sat at the top of the glass. I whisked it with my finger and took a sneaky look round the pub now I knew that Nancy was onto me. I felt the anticipation for the night building as the vodka hit my bloodstream, and I wanted more than anything to see Todd.
More of the group joined us. Kiefer was milling around, socialising, Reese was there with all her girlfriends, Minty arrived and the level of banter shot up. He and Nancy started talking about the evening’s proceedings, who was coming, how we were getting there. There was talk of going in several cars as the rave was ten miles away in a disused barn. The time was ticking by and it was almost ten. I could see our clan finishing drinks, a few people started to disappear outside to organise taxis or lifts.
Kiefer came over with Dave.
‘I’m driving, so you can hop in with us.’ I looked out of the window and saw Kiefer’s green Mini Cooper parked there.
‘What about Reese?’ I said, hoping that I could get left behind and wait a little longer to see if Todd showed. I downed the last of my vodka and Coke.
‘She’s going with Kaz and them lot. You comin’, Mints?’
‘You betcha. I’m totally psyched for tonight. I’m gonna get twiiiiisted!’ Minty started body popping.
Nancy hung off his arm, laughing at everything he said, and I was intrigued at how her interest in him had suddenly been piqued.
As everyone started filtering out of the pub, I couldn’t think of any more excuses to stay put. I had used the toilet three times, and my glass sat empty on the table in front of me. Kiefer stood next to me.
‘You coming, then?’
I did a final scan of the pub then grabbed my rucksack and followed Kiefer out to the car.
The drive to the barn where the rave was took twenty minutes. Minty rabbited on about God knows what, he’d properly come up on whatever he had taken. I clutched my bag. Nancy had her head on my shoulder, her eyes were closed. I knew she wasn’t asleep because every now and then I felt her shoulders shuffle as she giggled at something else Minty had said.
Kiefer pulled into the drive and I could feel the bass pumping through the car. Nancy sat up and did a loud stretch. Minty got out of the car and held the door open, bowing his head like a butler for Nancy who climbed out his side, laughing at his chivalry. I felt a pang of jealousy that Nancy and Minty might become an item tonight and Todd was nowhere to be seen.
I pulled my bag onto my shoulder and started to walk, my head bent down, trying to let the beat from the house music get inside me so I could relax and enjoy the night. But the thought of Todd not being there had already marred my mood and I just couldn’t shake it off.
‘You alright, sis?’ Kiefer put an arm around me as we walked in tandem towards the barn. I could see the flashing strobe light and it sounded as though there was an MC on the mic. I looked up and gave a reassuring smile to Kiefer.
‘Babe!’ I looked up as Reese tore herself away from the other girls she had arrived with. One was wearing huge Elton John glasses, a pink feather boa with multi-coloured leggings and white stilettoes. For a few seconds I was so mesmerised by her that I almost didn’t see him.
As the group of girls passed and dispersed, leaving only Kiefer and Reese locked in an embrace as though they hadn’t seen each other for weeks, he was there, as though he had been all the time.
He headed straight for me, took my hand and without saying anything he pulled me towards the mu
sic. I could feel the bass filling my insides and the electricity from the touch of Todd’s hand and suddenly my world had lit up with a million volts.
Devoted to the moment as I was, I still couldn’t help but steal a final glance backwards, where I saw Reese still firmly attached to Kiefer, but instead of looking at her, his eyes were locked firmly on mine and his jaw set in a way that displayed his disappointment.
24 December 1998
How is it possible that I can still feel you here? In bed at night I can hear the front door opening and your familiar footsteps walking through the hallway and into the kitchen. You were always the night owl of the two of us. Even though we spent so much time together, were always seen together, I preferred to be at home. I loved the sanctuary of it, of my bedroom, the one we shared together as little kids but you needed your space and freedom sooner than I did. Mum would come in and find us nestled into one another. I wish I had felt those moments more instead of trying to move away from you. Yet I never stopped feeling your gaze, the vibrations of your love found their way back to me, it was inevitable, we were closer than anyone we knew. I just presumed we would always be that way, even though I had begun to seek my independence, I thought I could come back to you like a boomerang at any point.
I always sought more, like any young girl does, thinking that my life was worthless, that I needed material goods to make me feel more than I did, that I needed to have friends that weren’t you. But of course, we don’t need anything other than what we are given in the beginning. The true binding love of siblings is a rare thing and we were so lucky. We never knew how lucky. I wish I had been able to show you in more ways that I cared for you, instead I felt I let you down too many times. I would look over and see that familiar look of distaste spread across your face, more so towards the end.
This therapy that I have only seems to make me miss you more. The gaping hole that is now my life without you doesn’t feel worthy of living without walking behind you in your footsteps. I realised I looked up to you so much. Now I only look down.
And the darkness that will creep its way around every year to mark the day you died means I will never be free of the grief.
The most special time of the year is here and I can’t imagine Christmas without you, but here I am planning how I will get through the first one. They say the firsts are the hardest. But I know every one will be hard.
Happy Christmas, my darling.
22
Now
On Saturday morning, I woke with dread in the pit of my stomach. Today was the anniversary of Kiefer’s death and I had been living this day over and over for twenty years.
Damian eyed me with curiosity when I arrived downstairs and took a seat at the island. What will happen, will I go off whistling like a boiled kettle or will I sink quietly into the background, not wishing to speak or be spoken to?
The kids would have been prepped. ‘Be extra kind to Mummy today – she is feeling fragile.’ Maddox would question what fragile means, as this is the first year he is old enough to understand that Mummy will be a little vacant for a while; before now Pixie was the only one Damian needed to explain the change in atmosphere to. I got up but I felt weightless, like an autumnal leaf, its threadbare exterior clinging to a thin central vein which could be crushed by pressing ever so gently and then disintegrate to nothing.
I wished today was happening on a work day so I could disappear and immerse myself in the glorious organised monotony of the daily tasks of my job.
Damian said very little and we allowed a whole day to pass with some card games in the snug, a simple lunch of jacket potatoes and salad, and by the end of the day he finally spoke to me with some sincerity.
‘Well done for getting through today.’ He poured me a glass of red wine. I noted it wasn’t my favourite, which you would have to go to the main supermarket to pick up, but a cheaper version from the corner shop. I tried not to wince when I swallowed but I wasn’t sure I succeeded as Damian looked at me with intent as though he were about to say something, but then he remembered himself and quietly retreated to the snug, patting me lightly on the back as he walked past. I heard Netflix fire up and I thought of all the places I would rather be than here.
I headed upstairs, checked in on Maddox first and then Pixie in their separate bedrooms, and began setting clothes aside for the trip away to Belgium which was happening in three days’ time. It was a most welcome distraction.
Damian was wrong. I was Mason’s New Product Developer. Penelope would be holding the fort in his absence and of course it was my job to be there.
I had texted my mum a few days ago to tell her I was going on a work trip. It had been weeks since I last saw her and Dad with Pixie. Only now did my phone ping through with a simple message:
Okay then, have a nice time
I wondered what had prevented her from replying straight away and then I stopped myself immediately from overthinking. Mum was on strong drugs that she had been on since Kiefer died. There was no rational explanation for her behaviour.
Damian always said I should be thankful I have parents. His divorced when he was five and his mother died of a heart attack five years ago. Now his dad lived and worked in Japan and had met Pixie twice and only met Maddox once when he was a baby.
So between us we considered ourselves unfortunate on the grandparent front, although my dad, through his illness, was probably the most endearing.
I put my phone aside and began to fold comfy trousers and t-shirts, some pyjamas and several sets of underwear. I glanced at my better underwear, the stuff I rarely wore any more. I grabbed the first matching set I could find.
I stared at it for a few seconds, then without further hesitation, I shoved it between a pair of black trousers and a polo neck sweater. I kept repeating to myself that that kind of underwear fitted better under the types of dresses I would be wearing for the evening meals and drinks with clients.
Then I sat on the end of the bed, and yet again I could feel the pull of the diaries from inside the safe. I thought of the number that kept them locked in there. It was going round and round in my head, and I would let it because I knew it would subside later. It was the repercussions of the day, the trauma and shock that reared itself every year. I would drown those feelings right now. I picked up a carrier bag, stuffed it with the inner card from the pairs of tights I had bought, and went downstairs. I looked at the recycling bin in the kitchen, which was full to bursting, so I picked it up and with the carrier bag, I walked barefoot down the side of the house where we kept our main bins. I paused in my tracks as I heard Damian’s voice from the other side of the tall side gate which led to the front of the house, muffled as though he were purposely trying to speak quietly into his phone. He must have thought I had gone to bed because his voice was an audible whisper, but I heard him clearly.
‘I know, I just don’t know what to do any more. I’m running out of patience. This time of year is particularly bad but I feel as though she’s getting worse.’
And although a part of me wanted to run through the side gate and demand to know from Damian who he was talking to, part of me wasn’t surprised that something was going on with him. With the way things had been recently, it was likely Damian could be keeping things secret from me.
I walked back into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed the first alcohol I could find, a Corona beer, and opened it. I took it back upstairs with me. As I walked back into the bedroom, I heard the echo of a text message notification. I took a long drink of the beer, placed it on the bedside table and opened my messages.
I saw the unrecognised number and the words:
Twenty years today
23
Now
I stood at the door with my bag in hand, ready to leave the house for three days. Damian loitered in the hallway, neither wanting to bid me farewell nor wanting me to go. He hit me with a few quick questions.
‘So, you’ll be back when?’ and ‘You’re getting a car to the
airport, then business class? Alright for some!’ and finally, ‘Enjoy, then.’
I thought about the phone call I heard a few nights ago and I supposed it was inevitable that I would end up at this junction with this distance opening up between me and Damian, and me, standing in the doorway of our house, clutching a suitcase with sexy lingerie stuffed between jumpers and trousers.
‘Ok, well, you know, take care and look after yourself.’ Damian shifted from one foot to another and looked at the floor tiles. ‘In Belgium,’ Damian added for extra effect.
‘So, I’ll see you in a few days.’ I had already said goodbye to the kids before Damian took them to school that morning. ‘I’ll be back Saturday.’
‘I still don’t get how if it’s a business trip you need to come back on Saturday.’ Damian said again, throwing us back to where we were days ago.
I shook my head. I had been through this so many times with Damian. Mason had booked a dinner on the Friday night with clients. A late night flight on Friday was completely out of the question.
‘I’ll see you Saturday,’ I leant in and gave Damian a peck on the cheek. His skin smelt faintly of soap and beneath that, his familiar scent that was just him. I felt a pang of something familiar, something that Damian and I had between us, the thing that brought us together and held us together. I didn’t often think about love, I was never one to try and analyse why that happened or this happened. But I read somewhere once that we are drawn to someone by their smell and if we continue to love the way they smell, and not be repulsed by it, then that in itself is enough. I tried to push away any yearning thoughts of absence making the heart grow fonder whilst I was away, and reverted my thoughts back to Damian and his vacant ways. Most of the time I was absent in body and mind. I didn’t really feel anything. I just felt numb about us. I thought about all the feelings that had been stirred up recently every time I was with Mason. Suddenly, panic set in, and I wondered if, with what was going on between Damian and I, now was the best time to be hundreds of miles away with Mason.