The Alphabet Sisters

by Monica McInerney

  “What do you mean look after his mother?”

  “Well, not look after. Sit with. Listen, I’ll save you the bother and ring him myself, and you can get onto the others. Should I tell him to come straight to the town hall? Okay, see you.”

  Lola, her arm still in its sling, was watching all the activity from a chair to the side of the stage. It was an excellent vantage point. In a corner of the hall, three of the ladies from the charity shop were organizing the costumes onto racks. Bett was at the piano, frowning a lot but otherwise looking in control of her little band of musicians, who had been summoned straight from the high school, still in their uniforms. Len was moving set panels. As Lola watched, Daniel Hilder arrived and started helping him. Up on the stage, Carrie was practicing her solo dance scene, striking quite an elegant pose. One thing puzzled Lola. Anna’s behavior with Richard Lawrence. Were her eyes deceiving her or was there a lot of flirting going on there? More than flirting, in fact. Little hand touches. Glances. Quick conversations.

  She made her way over to Bett and sat down on the piano stool beside her. “Hello, darling.”

  “Hello, Lola.” Bett smiled distractedly. Some of the songs weren’t working, now that she had seen them performed onstage. The tempo or the length was wrong. She was going to have to cut a verse out of “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” and quicken the tempo of “I Could Have Danced All Night.”

  “Bett, can we have a word about Richard Lawrence?”

  “Mmm?” Bett had her pen in her mouth, sheet music in one hand, and was trying out a chord with the other.

  Lola lowered her voice. “Have you and he had another dinner or a drink or anything since the night I was so tired?”

  “Me and Richard?” Bett took the pen out of her mouth. “Oh no, Lola. Richard’s having an affair with Anna. Anna and Glenn’s marriage has broken up, too, by the way. Months ago. He’s been having an affair with his PA. I only found out last night. Sorry. I know Anna would have told you, too, but all this took over.”

  Lola didn’t even blink. “Oh. I see. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.” She returned to her chair and sat for a moment taking all that in. Anna and Richard. Who would have thought? She turned slightly so she could see them, standing on the edge of the stage. Anna was smiling at something he was saying. His expression was courteous. Mindful. And very affectionate. Still waters ran deep, as the saying went. As for the breakup with Glenn—was she surprised? Not particularly, she realized. She actually quite liked Glenn, with his bristling energy and booming voice. He’d always been so good with Ellen, too. But possibly hell to be married to. No, perhaps Anna was better off with a gentle man for a while. Yes, she quite approved, she decided.

  Len’s voice sounded through the hall. “That’s it, Daniel. No, sorry, a bit to the left. Now right. Forward. Forward. No, back again. To tell you the truth, I think it might be upside down.”

  Lola watched as Daniel Hilder and Len stood in front of one of the Terowie Railway Station set panels and determined that, yes, it was indeed upside down. They carefully lowered it to the floor again. Lola put on her glasses and took the opportunity to assess Daniel one more time. He was good-humored, that much was obvious. Anyone who could work with Len for more than ten minutes without throwing up his arms and running shrieking from the room was definitely good-humored. And patient. He could do with a haircut, though. And he would look a bit neater if he tucked his shirt in every now and again. But that casual, unstructured look was quite the fashion, according to a TV show she’d seen the night before. Yes, he’d do fine. A worthy second choice.

  Operation Bett and Daniel sounded so much better, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Charlie arrived at half-past nine in the morning, sweeping into the town hall with his film crew. He was as flamboyant as Richard was quiet, long hair tied back in a ponytail, hugely amused by everything and everyone. “Anna, it’s a pleasure. I’ve heard great things about you. And Bett, I’m charmed. And you must be Caroline, is that right? But where is the magnificent Lola, whose phone calls have been entertaining me so hugely these past few days?”

  “I’m right here.” They turned around. Lola was dressed in a brightly colored combination of a long red satin overshirt, wide-legged paisley trousers, glittering costume jewelry, teased white hair, and bright-red lipstick. Her sling was of gold lamé. She had wound a colored ribbon around her walking cane.

  Charlie bowed deeply. “Lola, it’s an honor. I don’t suppose you could do that entrance for me again? On film this time?”

  She gave him her most dazzling smile. “Darling, I’ll come somersaulting in if you want me to.”

  An hour later Anna had nearly chewed her bottom lip to pieces. It had taken three takes to get “My Favorite Things” right. The train stalled midway across the stage in the first verse of “Chattanooga Choo Choo.” General MacArthur forgot his lines and said “I might return” instead of “I shall return.” Mrs. MacArthur defied Anna and started speaking in her English accent as soon as the camera was rolling. Carrie’s solo version of “I Could Have Danced All Night” was beautiful until two of the dancers gave a yelp behind her. They’d trodden on each other’s toes.

  But Charlie was delighted. Not just plenty of material for his own program, he’d whispered to Richard, but some perfect footage to sell to one of those video blooper shows. Especially when the front of the train took off, leaving the engine driver standing behind on an empty stage. And the marching scene when the two soldiers missed their step and clashed, forehead to forehead, into each other.

  Charlie strode into the center of the hall and clapped his hands. “Wonderful job, everyone, just wonderful. If we can have the three granddaughters up here singing ‘Sisters’ together, we’re done for the day.”

  Bett turned from the piano. Carrie stopped in the middle of the stage. On the hall floor Anna stepped forward. “Sorry, Charlie, that’s not part of the show.”

  “But it’s in the script.” He waved his copy.

  Anna noticed he had a copy of Lola’s original version. “No, we took it out.”

  He frowned. “But that’s the charm of the whole story. I had the whole thing edited in my head. Shots of Terowie, the MacArthur plaque at the railway station, snippets from the musical, an interview with Lola, the three of you singing, finishing up with Lola coming in proudly behind you.”

  Lola stepped forward. “Would you want me to be smiling, Charlie, or would you prefer I had a tear in my eye?”

  “We’ll try both, Lola, I think. So you’ll do it, girls? Terrific.” He didn’t give them a chance to protest, turning to call to the cast and his crew. “All right, everyone. Thanks for a great morning’s work. We’ll have a break and be back in twenty minutes with the three sisters onstage together.”

  Bett sat at the piano, fighting a rush of memory and self-consciousness. Back with the three sisters onstage together? Oh no, they wouldn’t be. She couldn’t do it. Not in front of all those people. In front of Richard. In front of Daniel. All of them thinking the same thing that boy in the audience had thought all those years ago …

  “Bett?”

  She turned. Anna and Carrie had come up to the piano. Anna seemed exhilarated after the filming. “What do you think? Shall we do it?”

  “No,” Bett said automatically. She said it to Anna, trying not to look at Carrie.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  “I really don’t want to, Anna. Thanks anyway.”

  Anna noticed then that Kaylene was standing nearby and blatantly eavesdropping. Anna spoke loudly and deliberately. “Let’s go backstage, then, shall we? See if we can remember all the words.”

  They followed her into the long dressing room behind the stage, past rows of stacked chairs, trestle tables, coatracks, and a makeup mirror covered in fly spots. Anna checked that they had it to themselves, then turned to Bett again. “This isn’t because of that Piggy in the Middle business, is it? Bett, that was more than fifteen years ago, for God’s
sake. Carrie apologized to you. I apologized to you. Can’t you leave it all behind?”

  Bett felt a ripple of temper start inside her. “It’s not always that simple, Anna.”

  “Of course it is. Is it really going to kill you to get up onstage again? You know how much it would mean to Lola. And it would mean a lot to me, too. We can talk about it all again now if we have to. Apologize again if we have to. Can’t we, Carrie?”

  There was only silence from Bett and Carrie.

  Anna lost her temper. “Fine. Brilliant. More silences. Well, I’ve had enough of it, do you hear me? All this tiptoeing around one another. All the things we won’t talk about. Well, not any longer. I’m going to start talking about all the things the three of us have managed to avoid so beautifully the past month. How long is this going to go on otherwise? Another three years?” She was having trouble getting her breath, and had to pause for a moment. “I hereby put it on the record that I hated that stupid fight we had. I hated getting caught up in it. I hated the fact that you both came running to me to try to fix it and I ruined it. Do you think I liked not talking to you both? Liked having my marriage crumble around my ears and not having anyone to talk about it with, or—”

  “Marriage crumble?” Carrie was shocked into speech. “But Glenn worships you.”

  “No, he doesn’t, Carrie. Glenn and I are getting divorced. And in the new spirit of openness, here’s another piece of news. I’m having an affair with Richard Lawrence and loving every minute of it.”

  Carrie turned to Bett. “Did you know about all this?” At Bett’s nod, she lost her temper, too. “Of course you did. Fine. Perfect. The two of you, ganging up on me again, like you always have.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Bett was furious now as well. “It was never me and Anna. It was always the two of you, doing it all so well, managing everything so perfectly. I was always the one who was left behind.”

  “Stop it, Bett,” Anna snapped. “Stop changing the facts to suit yourself. You did it with Matthew three years ago, but I’m not going to let you do it again now.”

  Carrie tensed. “What do you mean she did it with Matthew? Did what with Matthew?”

  “Changed the facts. Didn’t you, Bett? And I still don’t understand why.”

  “Anna, stop it—”

  “No, Bett. I’ve been trying to talk to you about this since we got here. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and it’s time Carrie knew, too. Time we brought all of this business out in the open so we can get on with our lives and—”

  “I’ve been trying,” Carrie interrupted. “I’ve asked Matthew to come and see Bett. I know I should have done it before now, but it’s been very difficult—”

  “It’s not just about seeing Matthew again, Carrie. Is it, Bett? It goes back farther than that.”

  Bett’s face was burning. “This is wrong, Anna. This is the wrong way to do it.”

  “Then what is the right way? Because I don’t know anymore. All I know is I’ve had enough of secrets and rows and the three of us not talking about things. We were lucky to have one another, and now it’s all ruined.”

  “It’s not ruined.” Bett stared at Anna, remembering all her sister had been through with Glenn and Ellen. On her own, because Bett had been too proud to admit the truth to Carrie, to try to heal the rift between them.

  “It is ruined.” Anna seemed defeated. “Okay, then, forget it. I tried, but I can’t make you do it. I’ll go and tell Charlie we won’t be singing together because we’re never going to be friends again, so there’s no point.” She was nearly at the door when Bett spoke.

  “Anna, wait. Please.” She took a breath. “I’ll tell her.”

  Carrie was looking back and forth between the two of them. “What? Tell me what?”

  “About Matthew and me. About what happened three years ago.” Bett could feel Anna’s eyes on her, willing her to tell the truth. “I was going to split up with Matthew, Carrie. I didn’t want to marry him.”

  Carrie went still. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying this now.”

  “It’s the truth. I’d been talking to Anna about it. Telling her things weren’t going well with us.”

  Carrie looked at Anna. Anna nodded. “What do you mean not going well?”

  Bett wavered. How honest could she be about the man who was now her sister’s husband? “I’d realized we weren’t suited to each other. I don’t know if we ever had been.”

  Carrie seemed genuinely shocked. “Then why did you get engaged?”

  Bett told the truth. “Because I thought he would make me feel better. Stop me making mistakes. Help me to fit in. I thought that once I had a boyfriend everything would be all right.”

  “So were you ever in love with him?”

  She paused. “No, I don’t think I was.”

  “But I don’t understand. You were so upset when … when he fell in love with me.”

  “I was hurt. Of course I was. And shocked. But I was just as upset with you. And then with Anna as well. It was the way you both reacted. You, Carrie, as if it was your right. You didn’t even seem surprised that Matthew would have fallen in love with you. It was as if you expected it to happen. All this dreamy talk, that it was written in the stars, that it had swept you both off your feet. And it was the way you told me, as if I could never hope to understand, that it was something way out of my reach. The way it had always been.” The words were pouring out of Bett now. “And you, Anna. When I came to you after Matthew and Carrie told me, all I wanted was your sympathy. And you just stood there, all cool and collected, making me feel like I had made a mess of everything yet again.”

  “I didn’t, Bett. I just wanted you to admit that you’d been having doubts about him. Because you had been. But you just lost your temper and started attacking me instead.”

  “I couldn’t help it. It just seemed that you were criticizing me, judging me again. And I couldn’t bear it.” She felt tears in her eyes and roughly wiped them away. “It just seemed like the final proof, that I was stuck in the middle, that I’d never be as good as either of you.”

  “But how did you think it was for me?” Carrie said passionately. “I fell in love with him, and you wouldn’t stay long enough to let me tell you that it was genuine. You wouldn’t listen to us, even though we wanted to try to explain. And when I went to you, Anna, you just attacked me, too, asked me was I sure that it wasn’t just infatuation. You just spoke to me as if I were a child, like you always had.”

  “I couldn’t win, could I?” Anna said. “Caught in the middle, yet again. I told Bett she should admit the truth, to you and to Matthew, and she just flew off the handle. And then you flew off the handle, too, Carrie. You told me to mind my own business, told me that you were an adult, that you could do what you wanted. And I thought, well, to hell with the pair of you.”

  “So did I,” Carrie said. “That’s exactly what I thought. To hell with the pair of you. I wanted to live my own life.”

  “Me, too,” Bett said. “That’s exactly what I wanted to do. As far away as I could.”

  Carrie turned to her. “That’s why you went away? Not because of me and Matthew?”

  “It was about you and Matthew at the start. I couldn’t stay here, with everyone talking and whispering about us.”

  “So why didn’t you come back, though? Why did you stay away?”

  Bett hesitated. “Because once I’d got over the shock and got through the first few months in Melbourne, I realized I liked being away from you both. I liked the freedom. I liked being just me, not Bett, sister of Anna, or Bett, sister of Carrie. I had to get away from you both. I couldn’t take it any longer.”

  The words came haltingly as she tried to explain further. How sometimes it had been the best thing in the world to have a sister on either side, protected, surrounded. But how other times it had felt as if she was being suffocated and squeezed. The oldest did it first, the youngest did it sweetest. What had been left for the o
ne in the middle? She’d had to go away, hadn’t she? Or she’d never have found herself, found what she was capable of … She slowly came to a halt. To her surprise, Anna and Carrie didn’t look hurt. They looked—what? Relieved? As if they understood?

  “I felt like that, too,” Anna said suddenly. “To begin with, anyway.”

  Bett stared at her. “What was there for you not to like? You always ruled the roost with us.”

  “But I was so tired of it, Bett. Tired of sorting out your fights, tired of giving you both advice when I had my own life to live, tired of the two of you passing remarks about Glenn. Not just the night of our fight, but ever since I’d met him. It was getting to the stage that I didn’t know what I thought of him myself. I kept getting confused with what you both thought about him.”

  “I was glad at the start, too.” Carrie said in a low voice. “It had always been the two of you ahead of me, getting all the grown-up attention, while I was just the silly little sister. And it was the same that night we fought about Matthew, Anna. You made me feel like I’d been sneaky and devious. And I hadn’t been, really I hadn’t. We both hated the fact it was going to hurt you, Bett. If there had been any other way of telling you—”

  “Why didn’t you say that to me, then?”

  “You wouldn’t listen. You just went running off as soon as Matthew told you. And then we were all fighting and … and it was just a mess. And the next morning you were gone before we had a chance to talk to you again.”

  “I had to go. I had to get away from everything, from all of you. I wanted to be me for a while. Just me. Not one of the Alphabet Sisters or even one of the Quinlan sisters anymore.”

  “And do you still feel like that? Now?” Anna looked very serious.

  Bett shook her head. “I haven’t felt like that for a long time. I got so lonely without you both. Once the novelty wore off. Once I’d proved to myself I could live away from you, that I could do things on my own, even live overseas. That I wasn’t a disaster area. I wanted the freedom, I loved the freedom, but—” her voice wavered. “I missed you both so much. And then Ellen was attacked, and, Anna, this is a terrible thing to say, but one part of me was glad, because it was a reason to write to you. So I did. I sent that letter. But then I didn’t hear back so I thought, well, you didn’t want contact again.”