Tangled Lives

by Hilary Boyd

  ‘Annie tells me you run a bar in Islington. Which one is it? I’m often around that neck of the woods.’ Daniel addressed his half-brother.

  They were seated round the table at last. The sun had come out and, to the untutored eye, it looked like a normal family enjoying a normal Sunday lunch in the warmth of an early-summer afternoon.

  ‘Red Desert, it’s newish. On Upper Street, just before the Almeida on the left.’

  Nothing about Ed’s demeanour reassured his mother about his state of mind. He looked tired and dull, slumped over his food, which he just pushed round his plate. By comparison, Daniel seemed in his element, seated between Emma – who had purposefully manoeuvred herself into the chair next to him – and herself, but entertaining the entire table with stories from his life in advertising. Her heart went out to her younger son.

  ‘The owner an Antonioni fan, then?’ Daniel was asking.

  Ed looked blank.

  ‘You know, Eddie, the guy who did The Passenger with Jack Nicholson?’ Emma glanced at Daniel knowingly. ‘Red Desert is one of his.’

  ‘The owner’s Moroccan. They have red sand in Morocco, I’m told.’ Ed made no effort to hide his satisfaction in snubbing Daniel.

  ‘You like it there, don’t you?’ Annie tried to encourage her younger son to open up. But she heard herself sounding like the mother of a ten-year-old asking about school.

  Ed raised his eyebrows. ‘No, Mum, I hate it. It’s slave labour and boring as hell. But –’ he shrugged at Daniel ‘– a man’s got to earn a crust.’

  Daniel seemed not to notice Ed’s sullen tone and grinned sympathetically. ‘Yeah, unfortunately you do. God, the jobs I’ve done to keep body and soul together. I sometimes wonder if this writing malarkey is worth it.’

  ‘At least you’re doing something you care about, along with the shitty jobs,’ Ed replied.

  ‘I suppose so. What would you care about if you had the chance?’

  Annie held her breath. They were really talking at last!

  ‘I’ve always wanted to work with wood … you know, carpentry, joinery … design and make my own furniture,’ Ed said quietly.

  Emma looked puzzled and Lucy burst out laughing. Marsha was sitting in silence down the end of the table and hardly seemed to be listening to the conversation.

  ‘Make furniture?’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘Since when? You’ve never mentioned that before.’

  Richard harrumphed, but didn’t comment.

  Ed’s face flushed angrily. ‘Since forever, actually. I’m not just some loser in a bar,’ he added, glaring at his father for a split second.

  ‘Come on, Luce, he’s done lots. That table in our flat, Mum’s bread bin.’ Marsha came to life in her brother’s defence, and Annie noticed Ed shoot her a grateful glance. ‘They’re good,’ her daughter added.

  ‘I’d love to work with my hands,’ Daniel responded. ‘It must be the most satisfying thing in the world.’

  Annie saw Ed eye him suspiciously, as if to check if he was making fun of him. But, to her at least, Daniel’s comment seemed entirely sincere.

  She went inside to get the pudding, beckoning Marsha to help collect the plates. Her daughter did as she was bidden and followed her into the kitchen.

  ‘Listen, I owe you a big apology,’ Annie told her in a whisper, her voice breathless with anxiety. ‘I made a terrible mistake not telling you all about Daniel. I was being selfish, I realise that now. Only seeing it from my point of view. I never thought … That night, at the party … I mean, obviously it’s a one in a trillion chance, but it happened. You should have been warned.’

  Marsha didn’t meet her eye. ‘Yeah … well, not much we can do about it now, eh?’

  ‘Are you angry with me?’

  ‘Mum, I’m not angry, but –’ her eyes filled with tears ‘– just really, really shocked. Suppose we had done something? Had sex, for instance?’

  Annie recoiled. ‘You didn’t, did you? You said …’

  Marsha shook her head. ‘No, we didn’t. I told you at the time, he’s not my type. But we might have.’ She paused. ‘Can you imagine if I’d let my own brother make love to me? How horrible would that have been?’

  Annie was shaken.

  ‘What’s up, guys?’ Lucy came inside, balancing a stack of empty bowls in both hands.

  Marsha pulled away from Annie’s embrace and wiped away the tears.

  ‘Nothing, it’s fine,’ she mumbled, and hurried to the small loo in the corridor.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Marsha’s upset because of meeting Daniel at that party.’

  Lucy looked baffled. Then it dawned on her. ‘Oh, you mean … She didn’t …’ her eyes widened in shock. ‘They didn’t …?’

  Annie quickly shook her head. ‘She says not.’

  ‘God!’ Lucy shot a glance out towards Daniel on the terrace.

  ‘Don’t say anything to the others, will you.’

  ‘Of course not.’

  Annie handed Lucy the pudding plates and a small porcelain jug of double cream in silence. She heard laughter and saw her elder son grinning as he finished another anecdote. Emma’s beautiful face was alive with pleasure. She couldn’t see Ed’s, his back was to her, but he seemed to be laughing too.

  She brushed away the dark thoughts about Daniel and Marsha and hurried outside, laying her tarte tatin in the centre of the wooden table. The chunks of apple nestled plump and buttery, a deep golden brown, in rough circles on top of the crisp pastry, the caramel juice leaking temptingly around the edges; the vanilla ice cream, homemade of course and delicately flecked with dark pinpoints of vanilla seeds, scooped smooth and rich from the container; the gold-rimmed floral-patterned Ironstone plates set off the pudding to perfection, but her pleasure was overshadowed by what Marsha had said.

  It was only when the pudding had been carefully divided and served, the ice cream handed round, the cream poured, that Richard raised his glass.

  ‘I’d like to propose a toast. To meeting Daniel!’ Everyone round the table echoed his words, ‘Daniel … Daniel.’

  Annie glanced round at all four of her children – together for the first time – and saw only the smiles she had longed for. Her eldest had won them over with his charm and humour as she’d known he would. Marsha was putting on a good show; even Ed looked almost mellow.

  ‘So, what’s the verdict?’ Marsha asked, directing her attention to Daniel as she poured the coffee and passed the small demi-tasses round the table. ‘On your long-lost gene pool?’ She grinned cheekily at him.

  Daniel didn’t flinch. ‘It’s been wonderful today,’ he smiled at the faces round the table. ‘I really appreciate being here.’

  ‘Our pleasure,’ Richard said.

  ‘What’s it like? Meeting us?’ Lucy voiced what each of them had been thinking.

  Annie had gone over versions of this conversation in her mind so many times before today, and she found she was almost holding her breath.

  ‘Odd, I suppose. And for you too … not knowing I even existed till recently,’ Daniel replied.

  There was an awkward silence.

  ‘Yeah …’ Marsha began, then stopped.

  ‘We were … surprised,’ Lucy added. It sounded to Annie as if this wasn’t quite what her daughter had been about to say.

  ‘I can imagine.’ Daniel shifted his gaze to the horizon, fiddling with the edge of his napkin.

  Annie was just wracking her brains to find something to say, when Emma spoke up.

  ‘I’ve got some cousins I’ve never met.’ She didn’t sound as if she’d even noticed the awkward lacuna in the conversation. ‘On my father’s side. My dad’s eldest brother … they fell out about twenty years ago over some stupid money thing. I’ve sometimes thought of looking them up.’

  ‘Often happens in families.’ Richard nodded. ‘So where did you say you were living, Daniel?’

  Annie smiled at her husband’s deft change of subject.

  ‘Umm, Islington at the moment.’<
br />
  ‘Do you share?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘I’m on my own. But not for much longer. The landlord is selling up and I have to move out in two weeks. There’s some subsidence problem he can’t be bothered to deal with, so he’s offloading it cheap.’

  ‘Is this sudden?’ Annie asked, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it to her. ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘Friend’s sofa in Stoke Newington, then I’m up in Edinburgh, rehearsing. I haven’t got time to look for another place before that – there’s still so much to do on the play.’ Daniel was beginning to look uncomfortable under this scrutiny, but Annie persevered.

  ‘But that’s weeks away. Won’t it be a nightmare, not having a proper place? Especially when you’re working.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, honestly. I’ve done it before.’

  ‘You could stay here,’ Lucy interrupted, to receive shocked looks from the rest of the family.

  ‘No … no, please. That’s very kind, but no way … I couldn’t possibly do that.’ He held his hands up in protest. ‘I didn’t tell you so you could ask me to stay.’

  ‘Why can’t you, though?’ Lucy persisted, looking between her parents. ‘We have the room. Marsha and Ed don’t live here any more.’ Her mother noticed her twiddling a length of her auburn curls – a gesture she’d developed as a child when she was nervous.

  Annie wasn’t sure how she felt. She had wanted Daniel to be part of the family, but her daughter’s suggestion seemed too sudden, too soon. She glanced at the others, but they looked back at her with a neutral gaze, perhaps waiting for her reaction.

  ‘It does make sense,’ Annie said slowly, against her better judgment but not wanting Daniel to think she wasn’t keen. ‘It’s only for a few weeks … and at least you’d have a proper room of your own.’

  Daniel shook his head, smiling at them as if they were daft children. ‘I’ve only just met you all! I can’t just suddenly move in.’

  ‘It’s just a room. We’re out during the day,’ Lucy went on, clearly warming to her theme. ‘You’d have the place to yourself. We’d hardly notice you were there … would we, Mum? Dad?’

  ‘Will you at least consider it?’ Annie asked, raising her eyebrows at her husband, who still said nothing.

  But Daniel shook his head firmly. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Tell you what …’ This from Marsha. ‘Why don’t you give it a go, and if it doesn’t work, you can move out again and kip on your friend’s sofa.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘What’s to lose?’

  ‘Richard?’ Annie waited.

  Her husband nodded slowly. ‘It’s up to you,’ he said, not looking at her.

  ‘Well …’ Daniel still hesitated. ‘It seems such an imposition, considering you hardly know me. But obviously it would be a great solution from my point of view.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Lucy said. ‘It’s a deal. You can go in Eddie’s room.’ Annie saw her glance at her brother, who gave an imperceptible shake of his head. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Lucy went on. ‘You hardly ever come home.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Ed mumbled.

  Annie searched Daniel’s face. Was he comfortable with this? Wasn’t Lucy railroading him a bit?

  ‘Please … if anyone has any objection to my coming here, you’d say, wouldn’t you?’ Daniel begged.

  Marsha smiled. ‘Hmm, not necessarily, Daniel. Us Delanceys aren’t exactly renowned for telling it how it is. We can be polite to the point of ridiculousness. Like Mum not mentioning you for thirty-five years.’

  Daniel looked awkward, clearly not knowing what to say.

  ‘That wasn’t to do with politeness, Marsha. And it’s not very polite of you to suggest we might be lying about wanting Daniel here,’ Annie pointed out, giving her daughter a questioning stare.

  ‘I didn’t mean that, Mum,’ Marsha said quickly. ‘I’m sure you’re very welcome here, Daniel. But generally … I just thought I’d mention it, if you’re about to spend time with the family.’

  Daniel seemed to have recovered his composure. ‘My own family’s never been that hot about airing stuff either. And whatever the intention, it doesn’t make things easy.’

  ‘Probably a generation thing,’ Ed put in. ‘The parents come from the stiff-upper-lip school of emotions: never tell anyone anything even remotely personal if you can get away with it. Whereas us lot spill every bit of dirty linen we can dig up, preferably on TV, preferably in front of millions.’

  While they all laughed, Richard could be heard to mutter: ‘Nothing so great about that, is there? All that eternal sobbing. Haven’t you noticed? Every film you see today, the slightest thing sets ’em off. Can’t even say hi without the entire cast – including grown men – tearing up.’

  ‘Men should be able to cry,’ Marsha retorted.

  ‘Cry for a good reason, of course,’ Richard agreed. ‘But crying because they think that’s acting? Doesn’t do it for me.’

  ‘Ah, Dad,’ Lucy leaned over and put her arm affectionately round her father’s shoulders. ‘It’s stiff upper lip for you then. Don’t let the bastards see the whites of your eyes.’

  As Daniel was leaving, Annie drew him aside. She wanted a private moment with him, out of the glare of the rest of the family.

  ‘Don’t feel pushed into anything,’ she said. ‘I’d love you to come, but if you’re not comfortable with it …’

  Daniel shrugged. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this? Shouldn’t you think it over? I mean, I love it that you and I have had the chance to bond a bit, but your family don’t know me from Adam. Perhaps Lucy’s being too kind.’

  She smiled. ‘She is kind, but we do want you to come. Please …’

  He hesitated, perhaps making some calculations in his head.

  ‘Well … if you’re sure. Please feel free to change your mind at any time though, Annie.’ He seemed relieved, but there was also a note of uncertainty in his voice.

  ‘Thank you, but I’m sure we won’t.’

  ‘And thanks for an amazing lunch. I think your family is wonderful.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Your family too, now.’

  *

  When they’d all gone, Annie went outside and sat for a moment on the deck, enjoying a heavenly sense of relief. It was only now, when the shadow of her long-held secret had begun to fade in Daniel’s presence, that she felt she could properly let go. No longer, when she thought of her baby, would she have to imagine him adrift out there in the world, not knowing how he was growing up, or with whom. It felt good.

  ‘You must be pleased.’ Richard interrupted her reverie.

  She stretched luxuriously, looking up at him with a smile. ‘Wasn’t it brilliant! Daniel fitted in so well, as if he really belonged. Maybe blood is thicker than water after all.’

  Richard, now in his corduroy slippers, slopped across the deck and began pulling at a stray tendril of potato jasmine on the far wall.

  She waited for him to comment on Daniel, but he said nothing. ‘You liked him, didn’t you?’

  Her husband turned to face her, a handful of slim branches in his hand. ‘I thought he was very charming,’ he replied.

  She waited. She knew him so well. Never a gusher, Richard had his own quiet way of expressing enthusiasm, and he wasn’t doing that now.

  ‘It’s just … well, I think you made a big mistake in allowing our kind-hearted daughter’s offer to go so far.’ He turned away, dumping the plant clippings on the ground.

  ‘You think it’s too soon?’

  Richard gave a sigh and turned back to face her. ‘Annie, we hardly know the man! It’s like going to Kentish Town and stopping the first person you see and inviting him home to stay for six weeks.’

  Annie felt her pleasure at the lunch melt away. She had the same fears as her husband, but she wasn’t sure why.

  ‘You could have said at the time that you thought it wasn’t such a great idea – before the decision was made.’

  He stared at her, his eyebrows raise
d. ‘Could I?’

  ‘Of course you could. Anyway, what have you got against him coming? I understand it’s sudden, I felt that myself. But I do know him, Richard. I’ve met up with him – as you’d be the first to complain about – quite a lot recently, and I hardly need references. He’s my son.’

  ‘It would still have been better if you’d asked for time to think about it.’

  ‘Maybe, but I didn’t. And nor did you.’

  He wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t blame Lucy. She’s bent on saving the world. And we’ve said it before, her bleeding heart will always get her into trouble. But you shouldn’t have gone along with it so easily.’

  Pompous idiot, she thought. ‘You make her sound like Care in the Community.’

  ‘It’s just … well, once he’s here, supposing he gets settled and wants to stay?’

  Annie knew this was just Richard inventing excuses for the position he was taking. The truth is, she thought sadly, he doesn’t really want anything to do with Daniel.

  ‘He’s got a play on in Edinburgh, remember? It’s hardly likely he’d forgo that rare privilege just to hang out with us.’

  After a solid silence, broken only by the click of the kettle reaching the boil back in the kitchen, she added, ‘We have everything in life, Richard. We have a huge, half-empty house, we have money, we have a close family. Can’t we be generous for once, and ask someone in need to share all that?’

  Richard harrumphed. ‘Now you’re making him sound like Care in the Community.’

  Annie couldn’t help smiling at that, and Richard finally saw the funny side and smiled too.