The Art of Hiding

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘I think maybe I am.’ It was still hard for her to think further than a day ahead. And whilst there were high points, her thoughts were still a tangle. She still felt alone, and more than a little afraid for the future. Her job was great, but they weren’t out of the woods.

  ‘I had a thought on how we could make three bedrooms here,’ Tiggy said. Nina followed her along the hallway which, interestingly, she no longer thought of as claustrophobic, as if her mind had shifted its expectations to fit the space she now inhabited. Her bedroom was a decent size, with two windows that looked out over the street.

  ‘I was thinking about it last night. All we have to do is put a wall up!’ Tiggy smiled. ‘With a clever bit of shifting around, and the addition of a stud wall, we could turn this space into two bedrooms, giving all of you a decent place to sleep. I know it would all depend on the cost, and permission of course from Fred. But I think it’s possible.’

  Nina remembered her old life, when all she had to do to get a spot of remodelling done was pick up the phone to McCarrick Construction and, like magic, workmen would appear who were all highly motivated to do the very best job. She thought about the number she had last dialled all those weeks ago and the surly man that had then answered the phone.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Tiggy grabbed her arm. ‘You look like you’re about to fall over!’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She forced a smile. ‘It’s a good idea, but there’d be no point, as I doubt we’ll be staying here that long.’

  ‘Where is it you are going?’ her sister asked flatly.

  ‘I . . . I don’t know, but I will save from my job and try to get a bigger flat with a bit more space for us all. There’s no storage here, and the boys are crammed in . . .’

  ‘And then what? An even bigger place? A swimming pool? Two swimming pools?’

  ‘No! Of course not.’ She chafed at Tiggy’s judgemental tone. ‘I only want enough.’

  ‘And when will you know when you have enough? When will you sit back and look up at the sky and feel satisfied?’ Tiggy cocked her head to one side.

  Nina pictured her sister’s homely room above the pub, and blinked with the familiar feelings of guilt and uncertainty. ‘I don’t know,’ came her truthful reply. ‘I just have it set in my head: work hard, save, move on.’

  ‘But don’t you get it?’ Tiggy asked. ‘That’s what everybody wants, what everyone thinks and plans, but look’ – she pointed out of the window – ‘we are all still here!’

  ‘I hadn’t . . .’

  ‘Hadn’t what?’ Tiggy pushed.

  ‘Hadn’t considered that this might be our final destination.’

  ‘No, because you are hoping for better,’ Tiggy accurately assessed. ‘But here’s the thing, Nina. I think happiness lies in being content now – right now! Every day! That’s not to say you can’t plan and work for change, but if you are constantly waiting for happiness to start, waiting for the change that will make it happen, then you just might miss some really good days along the way.’

  Tiggy’s words hit her hard. ‘You make me sound ungrateful and I’m not. I only want to make life as nice as I can for the boys. I keep wondering why the previous tenants didn’t fix this place up a bit.’

  ‘It’s called poverty, Nina,’ Tiggy spat.

  Nina gave her a sharp look. ‘I know that. You think I don’t? I’m in a crappy rented flat on a main road that is so noisy I can hardly think! You think I don’t know about hardship?’ Her voice cracked.

  ‘Nina.’ Tiggy stood tall. ‘You have been living here for a matter of weeks. You have had a life of charm and luxury up until this point. And you and the kids aren’t starving, and you are not homeless. You really need to keep things in perspective.’

  It was alarming to both how quickly their exchange had escalated, especially after such a pleasant afternoon, as if the cork had been shifted accidentally and the genie had come flying out of the bottle quicker than anyone could contain.

  ‘I need to keep things in perspective?’ She gave an ironic laugh. ‘Jesus Christ, my whole life has been turned upside down! I have lost my husband, my home, my security, and I am trying to keep everything together.’

  ‘I know, but I have to say, Nina, that the girl who grew up here, who had so much energy, so much confidence . . .’ She shook her head. ‘She would be horrified to see how you now struggle.’

  ‘You think I want to struggle? I don’t have much money! I can’t do the things that—’

  ‘No.’ Tiggy cut her short. ‘You misunderstand me. I don’t mean struggle financially, I mean struggle with life, the way everything feels like a hurdle. She wouldn’t recognise you!’

  ‘I don’t recognise me!’ Nina felt the threat of tears.

  ‘This is exactly what I mean about how you have changed. Tears never used to be your default setting.’

  ‘That is so unfair!’ Nina cursed the tears that gathered, not wanting to prove her sister’s point.

  ‘Is it? I know things are rough for you right now and I am sorry for that, but you have to stop playing the part of Mrs Finn McCarrick and find the old Nina!’

  ‘What on earth do you mean by that?’

  ‘I used to worry, when you first met Finn . . .’ Tiggy halted mid-sentence.

  ‘Worry about what? Come on, say it!’ She put her hands on her hips.

  ‘I used to worry that you weren’t always yourself when you were with him.’

  ‘Not myself?’ Nina felt her pulse quicken.

  Tiggy turned to face her sister. ‘It was like you were playing a part, figuring out how to be the person you thought he wanted, wary of your actions, your words. As if Nina from Portswood just wasn’t good enough.’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  ‘It is. It is true,’ Tiggy retorted. ‘I watched you, Nina, I watched you shrinking, getting smaller and smaller until you could barely be heard. And it was tough to witness the essence of you eroded with every year you spent with him.’

  ‘What are you talking about, “eroded”?’ she spat.

  ‘I’m talking about the fact that you hint that things between you and Finn weren’t perfect, and I want to yell “No shit!” He lied to you, kept you in the dark, never treated you like an equal. And he left you in this mess that he created. He was never satisfied. Didn’t know when he had enough.’

  Nina felt as if she had been punched in the stomach, but Tiggy wasn’t done.

  ‘He had a nice life, a great life! With all that you could ever need, and more, but Finn pushed on and on, bigger and better, until you were stretched so thin, things shattered! And he kept it from you, all of it! Why would he do that?’

  As hurt as she was shocked by the words, Nina sat down on the sofa. It was as if Tiggy had gone inside her head and pulled out her innermost secrets. It made her feel exposed, raw and embarrassed.

  Tiggy folded her arms across her chest. ‘You want to know why I stopped visiting? You want to know why it was a relief when you didn’t bother calling me and why I found it impossible to pick up the phone to you?’

  Nina gave a single nod, petrified and curious.

  ‘I wasn’t jealous of your swanky kitchen or your swimming pool, not even a little bit. I was mad that you allowed yourself to be shrunk in that way, that you lost your fight, forgot our life. Forgot every aspect of what things were like for me. You used to send me postcards from weekends in Europe, or pop thirty quid into my birthday card with the message “Have a lovely treat for your birthday”. I used to love getting those cards – and I’d grab it from the envelope and pay it straight to the electricity company. That was a real treat.’ Tiggy paced the room. ‘And I knew you’d picture me getting a manicure or buying some flowers, like you had no idea how I lived, none at all. And I was pissed off at how quickly you forgot that life, how quickly you slipped into being Mrs Finn McCarrick in her grand house, and all that came with that.’

  ‘I . . .’ Nina tried to find the words of rebuttal, but struggled. Her chest heaved as she
pictured Tiggy in her slippers, trotting up to the bank with her birthday money in her fist to pay a bill. It twisted her heart.

  ‘I was so mad at you that I couldn’t risk seeing you,’ Tiggy continued, ‘knowing I might totally lose it!’

  ‘Because you felt I was thoughtless, or because I couldn’t stand up to Finn?’

  ‘Mad because you let me down! You let him isolate you, cut me out and reduce you to someone, something, I didn’t recognise. You were like his housemaid, who was grateful and subservient and afraid of her own shadow. It was like you viewed the world from behind a tree trunk, hiding and fearful in case you were seen. I hated what he did to you!’

  ‘He did love me. I have to believe that. And we were equals, we were married—’

  ‘Yes, you were married,’ her sister interrupted her, ‘and I don’t doubt he loved you, but do you honestly believe that you were equals? A partnership? When you had no idea even that you were bankrupt?’ She snorted. ‘Didn’t know that you were in deep shit? Christ, you told me you couldn’t even log into the computer or access your bank details because Finn hadn’t given you the passwords! What was that all about? It’s like you were an untrustworthy employee, and the saddest thing is that I just wasn’t surprised. I saw the way you glowed in his compliments, fussed over him, fetched his suits from the dry cleaner’s, cooked for him and the boys, and then stood by the table listening to them talk sport, on hand in case they needed a drink or more potatoes! Like he was everything – and he was everything. I saw how he made it so, because without him you couldn’t bloody function. Why didn’t you have any friends?’

  ‘Of course we had friends! We did, we . . .’ She felt sick at the picture her sister was painting, recognising some elements of truth, but trying with every fibre of her body to push against it, prove it wrong, because if she accepted it as the truth, she knew that her history with the man she loved, the story they had written, might dissolve to nothing . . .

  ‘No, you didn’t. Not really.’ Tiggy calmed, her tone softened. ‘I remember you saying Finn preferred it just being the two of you. He controlled you, Nina, and he was so good at it that you didn’t even realise. You used to love company. When I think of you as a teenager or a kid, you were always laughing loudly and you were always in a little crowd of mates,’ Tiggy continued. ‘He built you a beautiful, million-pound gilded cage and gave you the money so you could fill it with lovely, lovely things, and flowers, and you sat and looked out through the bars, over the terrace and the pool beyond. And it broke my heart. It absolutely broke my heart.’ Tiggy’s voice cracked in a rare show of emotion.

  ‘I . . . he . . .’ Nina struggled to find the words. Her chest felt tight and her frustration grew. ‘He loved me! And I loved him!’

  ‘I think he did, in his way, and I know you loved him, baby.’ Tiggy took a deep breath and cocked her head to one side. ‘But maybe he didn’t know how to handle that love, and I believe that he took advantage of your past by promising you a different future. You were so young and he was so smart. He patronised you and gave you pocket money. No wonder Connor thinks it’s okay to treat you like a doormat – he has watched his dad do it for all these years. I am sorry for your loss, sorry he died, truly, and I hate to see you hurting, but this is your chance to start to live. To reclaim your life.’

  ‘You have no idea what it’s like to lose the father of your children. You think I can just dust myself off, move on?’ Nina shook her head, her anger rising. ‘I want you to leave, I want you to leave now!’ she yelled and pointed towards the door with a trembling finger. Her sister’s words cut her deep; to hear Connor’s bad treatment of her confirmed was galling and embarrassing, and more than she could handle.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m going,’ Tiggy muttered as she headed for the door. Nina could only glean the odd word as she followed her. ‘Waste . . . idiot . . . money . . .’ Tiggy paused, and looked back at her sister. ‘I have loved you my whole life, Nina. I tried to look after you when Mamma died and when we came to England, even though I was only little myself. I had your back. I tried my best. I brushed your hair and told you stories . . .’ Tiggy cleared her throat. ‘But to see you in recent years, anyone would think that your life started when you arrived in Bath. But it didn’t. It started in a cramped cottage in Frederiksberg and you were then shaped by our life here in Portswood. Like it or not.’

  ‘I know where I come from!’ she yelled. ‘Saying my life started when I moved away makes it sound like I erased my childhood, and that’s a terrible suggestion. I love you! You are my connection to Mamma, as if I’d want to forget that!’ Nina cursed the tears that gathered in her throat, thickening her speech.

  ‘I just find it hard to believe sometimes how easily Finn usurped me.’ Tiggy held her ground. ‘You let him shut you away. You didn’t fight for me in the way that I would have fought for you.’

  And there it was.

  Nina felt a wave of shame, recognising the truth to her sister’s claim. She’d done her best to counter it, but Tiggy was right: sending off her birthday money, Nina had pictured Tiggy arranging a bunch of yellow roses, her favourites. She felt foolish and sick, and more than a little ashamed at the truth. It was a horrible thought – that she had forgotten her old life. She stared at her sister and noticed the shadows of fatigue under her eyes and the lines around her pretty mouth.

  There was a long, silent pause while both considered their exchange.

  Finally Nina broke the silence. ‘I don’t know what to say to make it better, Tiggy. I can’t think straight. I can’t.’ She rubbed her temples.

  Tiggy looked at her little sister. ‘I know, and I didn’t intend for us to speak like this. Not today. I don’t want to argue with you. But there are things that need to be said, Nina. The very moment I heard about Finn, I came all the way over to Bath to help you, and I was glad to, and I would do that over and over whenever you need me, just like I promised Dad. I am here for you. I want to be the first person you call, always. But my God, Nina, when I reached for my cigarettes in your house you looked like I had shat on the floor! Like I was rubbish. I felt so small, embarrassed, and yet it was you who used to hang out of Gran’s bathroom window with Parker and Graham, in your sequinned boob tube, blowing smoke out onto the street.’

  Nina shuddered. That was another time. Another person . . .

  Tiggy continued. ‘I also noticed I was the only one there helping. None of your posh friends were running around with a mop or making tea, only me, and yet . . .’ She paused. ‘You didn’t seem very grateful, as if it was my job to do those things. I don’t blame you. I think Finn wanted to shape you, and you allowed yourself to be shaped, and you became something different – more polished, yes, with all the bells and whistles. But you lost something, too. Lost a bit of you.’

  Nina felt weighed down by Tiggy’s words. Even if it was the truth, it was still far from easy to hear.

  Tiggy opened the sitting room door and it was only then they saw Declan and Connor standing in the hallway by the front door. Nina glanced at them, wondering how long they had stood there and how much they had heard. Her heart raced; the last thing she wanted was for them to be further unsettled by her and Tiggy arguing, and worse still was the idea that they too might have heard some of the criticism of their father, and of her, or recognise some truth in their exchange. She wanted to maintain the illusion that she was just like any other Kings Norton mum, that she was good enough. She knitted her fingers across her stomach, trying to look authoritative, unshaken.

  ‘It looks nice in here.’ Declan walked forward calmly and ran his fingers over the new throw and cushions on the sofa.

  Tiggy smiled briefly at the small boy whose words diluted the emotion that clung to the walls. Nina watched as she hitched her bag onto her shoulder.

  ‘See you all soon.’ With that, Tiggy swept from the room.

  The boys kept their eyes fixed on their mum. ‘I’ll get supper going in a sec,’ she said over her shoulder before locking
herself in the bathroom, the only place with a lockable door where she could find solitude in the little flat.

  Nina sank down with her back against the door. Her sister’s words had sparked something inside. The gloss had indeed dulled on her shiny marriage, the one thing she had always held up as a perfect example.

  I am thinking about the old me, Finn, the me before you – and you know there was a lot about me I didn’t like, but there was a lot that I did like. I used to have the confidence to be funny, to make jokes. Tig is right, I lived as though I were hiding behind a tree, fearful . . .

  She pictured the many meals she had served to her family as they sat at the table, with her hovering by the island in case they wanted drinks or more food, while they talked and laughed together. She remembered the man who had answered the phone call that day, and had laughed at her when she was unaware that the business was no more. She thought about her gilded cage, filled with lovely, lovely things . . . and her sister, her protector for as long as she could remember, the girl who brushed her hair when there was no mum to undertake the task, and whom she had abandoned in favour of a new shiny life.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, hoping her words would float out across the cold sky and land on Tiggy’s shoulders as she made her way along Portswood Road.

  Nina spent all night lying in bed, replaying the words of their fight. Not only was she saddened that their reconnection had suffered, but their argument had reinforced the fact that, apart from the boys, she only had Tiggy.

  Looking out onto the grey, rain-filled street, she remembered days like this from her childhood. Tiggy would always tell her that ‘Christmas is right around the corner!’ even when it wasn’t – it was enough to fuel her happiness for a while. The fact that Christmas was always disappointing as far as presents went, and that good cheer was in fairly short supply in her family, didn’t matter; Tiggy had the knack of creating the possibility of magic, and that, in Nina’s less than perfect life, was the greatest gift her sister could have given her. Thankful for her afternoon shift at work that day, Nina took advantage of her free morning, pulled on her jacket and boots and walked to the pub.