by Amy Bratley
‘Still sleeping a lot?’ she said.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Ethan bounded across the lawn to interrupt, a hot chip in his hand.
‘Maggie,’ he said, kissing both her cheeks. ‘Hello. Are you ready to eat? So, what are you girls talking about?’
‘As a matter of fact, you,’ said Maggie. ‘But then you probably guessed that, did you? I’m getting that you like to be centre of attention, Ethan.’
Maggie’s tone was playful but Ethan looked hurt. His eyes met mine and, though he laughed, he looked slightly vulnerable.
‘Not always,’ he said quietly. ‘Sometimes I would like to just sit in the corner quietly and observe. That was one good thing about Rome when I first got there. I was pretty much anonymous everywhere I went. Here, all the people that come into the deli know me.’
‘And then, of course, there’s your fans from when you were a corpse in Silent Witness,’ I said, making him smile. ‘Swamping you on the street.’
‘Food!’ Andrew called out. ‘Come and get it.’
We all looked towards Andrew, who was holding out plates of fish and chips.
‘Exactly,’ Ethan said with a laugh. ‘It’s tough being this famous. I mean, look at this face. It says Hollywood, doesn’t it?’
Andrew, now standing, waved knives and forks at us. ‘Look, shall we eat while these things are still hot?’ he said. ‘I ought to check up on Alicia in a minute. Good God, what a shambles. Come and sit near me, Maggie. Food’s ready.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ Maggie said.
‘Oh Christ,’ Andrew said. ‘I am definitely not ready for that.’
Maggie took a single chair near Andrew, leaving the two-seater wicker chair empty. Ethan stretched out his hand, offering me a place on the two-seater.
‘Thanks,’ I said avoiding his eyes, sitting and accepting a plate of food from Andrew, though I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat a thing. Ethan sat next to me, his thigh touching mine. As he ate, he turned to look at me, or subtly knocked his elbow against mine, as if checking I hadn’t disappeared. I played with the food on my plate, pushing the chips into a pile. When I glanced over at Maggie, she was watching me, a sympathetic expression on her face.
‘The thing about men,’ Maggie started, waving a chip-pronged fork at Andrew. ‘Is that they’re not as good at adapting as women. Girls adapt and survive, whereas men, despite what they say, don’t cope so well with change.’
‘I think you might be right,’ Andrew said. ‘I detest change; I’m hopeless at it.’
Ethan put his fork down on his plate, shaking his head.
‘I’m not sure,’ Ethan said. ‘In my experience, women find it almost impossible to adapt to change. They don’t face up to reality, whereas men do; even if they internalize their emotions, they do get on with life. They think they have to.’
Ethan cleared his throat and glanced nervously at me.
‘Rubbish,’ said Maggie, dismissively.
‘I’m thinking about my parents,’ he said, bristling at Maggie’s tone.
I nodded in acknowledgement. When his brother died, his mum had refused to stop buying two sets of everything for years, while his dad wouldn’t speak about his death.
‘I lost my twin when I was a kid,’ Ethan explained to Maggie and Andrew. ‘When we were six he drowned in a swimming pool. It was years before my mother could accept he was gone, but my dad just carried on.’
He put his plate, still mounded with food, down on the grass. A pigeon hovered close by and pecked at the lawn. Maggie and Andrew made sympathetic murmuring noises.
‘Christ,’ Andrew said. ‘How dreadful.’
‘Yeah, it’s not been great, but I hate to be miserable about his life,’ Ethan said. ‘I feel I owe it to him not to fuck up mine because I see my life as ours, as belonging to both of us.’
Ethan looked at me and gave a sad smile.
‘Not doing such a great job, as it happens,’ he said quietly.
It was rare to see Ethan so melancholic and open. He hardly ever spoke about his twin to people he didn’t know well. It surprised me, but I liked it. I wanted to hug and kiss him, squeeze his hand. But just as I was suppressing the urge, from inside my bag my phone started to ring. I picked it out and saw that my dad was calling.
‘Sorry,’ I said, getting up from my place. ‘It’s my dad. I’d better take it.’
With the phone pressed to my ear, I walked away from Ethan and Maggie, towards Andrew’s house, where the front door was open. From somewhere inside, I heard Alicia sniffing with tears.
‘Hey, Dad,’ I said distractedly, leaning on the outside wall by the front door, next to a rose trellis. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Hello, darling Eve,’ he said, in a serious voice. ‘Are you at that dinner party?’
There was a burst of laughter from Maggie and Ethan and I watched them, with one eye, wondering if I should tell someone that Alicia was obviously crying on her own inside the house or if she just wanted to be left alone.
‘I am, yes,’ I said. ‘I know you don’t think I should be, but I need to talk to Ethan and he’s been away all week, plus I can get publicity for the cafe, which I can’t let go because I’ve been so hopeless with it now that Joe has—’
Dad interrupted before I could finish.
‘Eve,’ he said, ‘I haven’t been entirely honest with you about Ethan. I’m sorry.’
I frowned, confused, and put my free hand up to my ear, so I could hear his voice more clearly.
‘What do you mean you haven’t been honest?’ I said. ‘About what?’
Dad sighed heavily. I could almost hear him cringe. My heart started to pound in my chest.
‘Oh dear,’ he said worriedly. ‘Let me explain.’
Chapter Seventeen
While the others continued to talk, I turned away and, with my phone clasped to my ear, stared at my shoes, dread gnawing my insides.
‘Go on, Dad,’ I said. ‘Just tell me.’
Sensing his hesitation, I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. There are times in your life that you just know something awful is going to happen. This was one of them. I held my breath in anticipation.
‘You remember Ethan told you he sent a letter when he first disappeared?’ he said evenly.
‘Yeah,’ I said quickly, suddenly extremely alert. ‘And?’
‘You have to understand that I did this because I love you more than anything. You – and Daisy – mean absolutely everything to me. Before your mother died, I promised I would look after you with extra care and love—’ he said, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘You were the baby and you’d lost your mum, for heaven’s sake—’
He stopped speaking and I realized, with alarm, that he was choking back tears.
‘Go on, Dad,’ I said worriedly, glancing back at Maggie pouring Ethan, Andrew and Paul more wine. ‘It can’t be that bad, can it?’
He took a deep breath.
‘The letter Ethan sent explained exactly why he left,’ he said. ‘I know that because I opened it and read it and decided you’d be better off not knowing the truth. I’m sorry.’
I just stood there, listening, but not saying anything. Dad had read Ethan’s letter and hidden it from me? It didn’t make any sense. Anger and fear coursed through me.
‘You what?’ I said. ‘You read the letter meant for me from Ethan? Why? What did it say?’
In all the years since my mum died, my dad had been very protective and overly cautious of me and Daisy, which I completely understood. But this?
‘I thought I was doing the right thing,’ he said. ‘I opened it by mistake, and once I’d read it, I didn’t want you to read it. I thought I was protecting you. I never thought he would come back.’
‘But why are you telling me this now?’ I asked. ‘If you’d hidden it from me, why tell me about it? What did it say?’
All the time we were speaking I was imagining what was in the letter. It can’t have been that awful, or else Ethan would have said som
ething by now, wouldn’t he?
‘Because I know you’re getting involved with Ethan again,’ he sighed. ‘And I want you to know, before you get too carried away, that he’s not to be trusted. I hid that letter because you would have been even more heartbroken than you already are. You will be heartbroken.’
‘OK,’ I asked in a level voice. ‘So what did he do? Just tell me now. Don’t keep me hanging on like this.’
Dad sighed.
‘I can’t, darling, it has to come from him,’ he said. ‘Confront Ethan. This news should come from him. Get off the phone and ask him right now. I am sorry, Eve, darling. I love you so much, I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. I’m here all evening so come to see me and we’ll talk. I’m sorry, darling, I feel awful . . .’
For a moment, I tried to imagine being in my dad’s place. It must have been so hard suddenly to be left alone to bring up two girls, to make all the decisions he’s made alone. I know that he would never have meant to hurt me, though obviously I was bewildered by his decision. Normally I would have consoled him, reassured him that he’d done the right thing, but now I just couldn’t.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Bye, Dad.’
‘Bye,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry, my love.’
I hung up feeling numb with fear and, with my phone still in my hand, walked through the front door of Andrew’s enormous house to find the bathroom and wash my face. I needed a moment to think, to gather my wits. Then I would confront Ethan. With my stomach in my mouth, I opened a door to a room I thought might be a toilet, but it was a reception room, with Alicia lying awkwardly on a couch.
‘Excuse me,’ she said indignantly. ‘Who are you?’
I looked up to see Alicia, her pregnant bump incredibly low, spread out on the sofa, clearly in pain. She wiped her eyes and glared at me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m Eve, one of the Supper Club guests. Are you OK? I thought I heard you crying. I’m sorry I’m in your house uninvited. I’ll get out, but I needed the toilet. Are you OK, you look so uncomfortable . . .’
Alicia rested her head against the sofa, her copper hair blooming out above her head like a halo. She breathed out and turned her head from right to left, as if loosening her neck.
‘I’ll be OK,’ she said, before her face crumpled and she started to cry. ‘Actually, I think it’s all about to happen. I keep getting these cramps. But you know what? I don’t want kids now, I just want my old life back.’
I opened my mouth to tell her it was a bit late, but thought better of it.
‘I insisted we had this baby,’ she said. ‘These babies, I mean. Andrew was never into it and now I understand why. Despite how he comes across, he’s still a child. How am I going to cope with three children to look after?’
Alicia put her face in her hands and I went over and awkwardly patted her shoulder. With the thought of Ethan’s letter imprinted in my mind, I felt completely lost for words.
‘Sorry,’ she said, rubbing the bottom of her bump. ‘You’re a complete stranger and here I am, oh my God, this is really, owwwwwwwwww.’
Alicia gripped her lower back and bent over, apparently in excruciating pain.
‘Oh my God,’ I said, jumping up. ‘Let me get Andrew.’
Leaving Alicia moaning on the sofa, I ran out onto the front lawn. Ethan turned to face me.
‘There you are,’ he said, lifting his glass up to me. Seeing him sitting there, smiling up at me, I heard my dad’s voice clearly and loudly in my mind. My stomach clenched.
‘Andrew,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s Alicia. I think it’s starting.’
Andrew jumped up, knocking over a chair, and ran towards the house, handing me his wine glass when he passed by. He disappeared for a second then came running out, his skin three shades paler.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘Phone the ambulance. Quick.’
Chapter Eighteen
Ethan grabbed my mobile phone out of my hand and rang an ambulance, giving Andrew’s address and explaining that the twins were on the way. I listened to the alarm in his voice, Alicia’s moans in the background, and stood, frozen to the spot, my dad’s words playing out in my head. Maggie moved over to Paul, said something to him then looked at her watch.
‘Ethan?’ I said quietly as he paced towards me, closing up my phone and handing it back. ‘Ethan, I need to speak to you.’
Ethan threw his arm over my shoulder and squeezed.
‘Isn’t this mad?’ he said. ‘The twins are about to be born. Do you think we should all fuck off? They don’t want us here, do they? Hey, Maggie, I was just saying I think we should go? Do you fancy a drink?’
I wriggled free from Ethan’s grip and faced him.
‘Ethan,’ I said steadily. ‘I’ve just spoken to my dad. He told me he read the letter you sent when you left London. He said I can’t trust you. I want to know why.’
Ethan backed away from me and shoved his hands in his pockets.
‘Your dad read my letter?’ he said, confused. ‘So he hid it from you? How could he do that?’
I shook my head.
‘Protecting me,’ I said. ‘Whatever you did, must have been bad. I need to know. Now.’
Ethan swallowed hard and nodded.
‘Let’s get out of here and we can talk,’ he said, almost in a whisper.
Tripping over a suitcase, Ethan moved over to Paul and Maggie, explaining that we were going to leave. Maggie glanced at me worriedly and I gave her an anxious smile, unable to stop angry tears from welling up in my eyes.
‘Ring me later?’ she said, rubbing my arm. ‘Are you OK?’
I nodded but couldn’t speak. I felt too sick. From inside the house came a huge scream and I scanned the street for an ambulance. It can only have been seconds since Ethan called, but it felt like an eternity.
‘Here,’ I said, with relief. ‘It’s coming.’
A paramedic, with what I thought must have been a midwife, parked outside and rushed in through the garden gate. On hearing Alicia’s screams, they bolted in through the front door. We all stood out on the lawn, not knowing what to do. I folded my arms across my chest. Ethan lit a cigarette and avoided my eye. Moments later, there was a tiny cry, followed by another tiny cry. Andrew appeared at the door, looking, I thought, about one hundred and fifty years old.
‘Born,’ he said, his eyes filling with tears. ‘We have to get them to hospital now. Alicia’s lost quite a lot of blood.’
There was no time for congratulations or to see the babies. In an eerie silence, Alicia white as a sheet and in tears, the new family were put into the ambulance, passers-by trying not to look at what was happening. The doors slammed shut and they were gone.
‘You two go,’ Maggie said to Ethan and me. ‘We’ll pick up this stuff and find out what’s happening. We’ll speak later.’
I smiled at Maggie gratefully, hardly saying goodbye to Paul, before I pushed open the garden gate and waited in the street for Ethan, my heart in my mouth.
As Ethan and I walked along the street in silence, a melting orange sunset ahead, I felt the tension crackling between us. Finally, we were alone. Something bad was about to happen. I could feel it in the sultry evening, the potent perfume of mimosa growing in a nearby garden thick in the air. I sensed it in the pit of my stomach, which lurched with every step of Ethan’s deliberate stride.
‘All right?’ he asked, with a quick smile over his shoulder. He messed up his hair with his hand. ‘Wasn’t that mad? I mean, that those baby girls were born, while we were sat there, eating chips and pea fritters? Did you see Andrew’s face?’
I understood, just because I knew Ethan, that he was leading up to talking to me properly.
‘I know,’ I said with a flicker of a smile. ‘Imagine if you could freeze-frame the world and take photos of what everyone was eating at the exact moment you were born. That would make an interesting collage, wouldn’t it? Probably be quite difficult logistically.’
Ethan laughed and pulled out his pa
cket of Drum tobacco.
‘That’s what I like about you,’ he said. ‘I can always rely on you to say something weird.’
‘Thanks,’ I said drily. ‘Ethan, are you going to talk to me now? This isn’t funny any more. I feel like I’m actually going to be sick.’
He sighed and rolled a cigarette and lit it, the match like burnt toast in my nose.
‘Let’s find somewhere to sit,’ he said.
We continued to walk, a safe distance apart, though occasionally our elbows brushed against one another. He sucked rapidly on his cigarette and I rustled in my bag for a mint. I tried to distract myself by thinking about Alicia. Now she had two tiny lives in her hands, daughters who would, no doubt, completely change her life. I wondered what it must feel like, suddenly to become a mother, to have all that responsibility heaped on your shoulders. How had my own mother felt when I was born? In the pictures I had of her and me, she looked adoring, devoted, bursting with love as I clung to her like a paperclip. She had no idea, then, that she would never see me and Daisy grow up into adults, or know my father as a man in his forties and fifties. I shook my head sadly. Even though I sometimes let myself imagine what it would be like to have children – visualizing impish blondes running along a sandy beach in bare feet, tucking into a home-baked cake under the branches of a willow tree in the garden – I knew I wasn’t anywhere near ready and that wasn’t what it would really be like. I hadn’t done anything yet. I felt like a child most of the time. Plus, I was terrified I’d mess it up. I didn’t have a mother to show me the ropes, so I was already at a disadvantage. I snatched a glance at Ethan and tried to imagine him as a father, but I couldn’t, not for a moment. I never had been able to see him in that role. He was far too interested in enjoying himself, far too self-centred.
‘What are you thinking about?’ he said as we turned left up another street of grand houses.
‘You,’ I said. ‘I was wondering what you’ve been doing for the last three years. I was wondering what awful thing you’re about to say. My dad sounded pretty bleak.’