by Jenni Keer
‘You really are a massive waste of space, Dad,’ said Ben, pushing his chair up against the wall and standing up. ‘You all look at me and criticise my reluctance to be part of this family but what kind of role models have I had growing up? A man who couldn’t keep it in his pants for two minutes, and a mother who can’t hold it together when she so much as drops an egg on the floor. No wonder I’ve never wanted anything to do with you all.’
‘That’s not fair,’ said Zoe.
‘No, you’re right, I adore Mum – emotional maelstrom that she is – and I don’t particularly have a problem with you or Maisie.’
‘Meaning you DO have a problem with me?’ Lisa spat, moving to pick up her wine glass and knocking the stem with her hand, sending a stream of red wine sloshing across the pristine white tablecloth. With a gasp, Maisie ran to the kitchen to get a cloth and some stain remover, dashing back in to the room and mopping at the purple stain through the continued disquiet.
‘Everyone has a problem with you, Lisa.’ Ben laughed. ‘The spoilt little girl who got whatever she wanted if she made a big enough fuss.’
‘Pretty spot on,’ Zoe agreed. ‘Daddy’s little girl from the off. The rest of us never got a look-in.’
‘Rubbish.’ Lisa stood up but staggered to one side, missing her footing, as a frantic Maisie continued to scrub away at the stain. ‘I was the one pushed aside. My life would have been perfect if you lot hadn’t come on the scene. I don’t even know why our parents had so many children. It always made me feel I wasn’t enough.’
‘Oh, you were, darling, you really were. I suppose with hindsight, I wanted to keep David from straying, and I thought if we had lots of lovely children he wouldn’t leave me. Especially my little Maisie – a last-ditch attempt to save the marriage.’
‘You what?’ shouted her ex-husband. ‘Maisie was planned? You told me she was an accident.’
Shocked to discover she was an attempt to patch up a failing marriage and not a longed-for fourth child, Maisie stopped scrubbing, throwing the cloth onto the table, and abandoning all attempts to rescue it.
‘I wasn’t wanted?’ she whispered.
‘Of course you were, sweetheart – you were always my favourite.’ David Meadows’ eyes flashed wide as his own words echoed through his ears.
‘That’s it, I’m outta here,’ said Ben. ‘And you wonder why I pretend I have no family.’
‘Oh, darling, please say that’s not true,’ said their mother, the tears still flowing.
‘Sorry, Mum. Makes life easier.’ That was a yes then, they all realised. ‘I only took up the drums as a way of drowning out all the quarrels and to justify thrashing something really hard without getting arrested. Quite frankly, there were times it was either the snare drum or your face, Lisa.’
Joining her mother in mass tear production and still absorbing the shock news, Maisie sunk back into her chair.
‘Please don’t say harmful things. You don’t mean them. Lisa is the biggest success of us all and sometimes you have to be a bit selfish to make it to the top. She loves us all – don’t you, Lisa? It’s hard being the oldest child,’ said Maisie.
‘Oh, honey, you’re sweet but you’re totally misguided.’ Lisa hiccupped and stared intently at the stem of her empty glass. ‘I was fired eighteen months ago for continually turning up late. I live in a crummy bedsit in a dodgy part of the city. I’m broke and I’m so terribly lonely – probably because I’m a total cow and just don’t know how to stop being one. And then I drink too much and feel worse about myself. It’s a vicious circle.’
‘You’re unemployed?’ their mother asked. ‘Oh, darling …’
Ben looked at Lisa, his head shaking slowly from side to side. ‘Why I thought it would be a good idea to come back for this, I don’t know. Nothing has changed. Put us together and the sparks fly.’ He manoeuvred himself out from behind the table.
‘You never could cope with emotions,’ Lisa said. ‘I always suspected you were on the spectrum and now I see it’s true.’
‘Take that back, you bitch.’ He lurched towards his sister, their dad intercepting him at the last moment.
‘Just go, son,’ he said. ‘Before you do something you regret.’
‘Like fathering an illegitimate child, you mean? Doing it in the first place is bad enough, but keeping quiet about it for thirty years wins you the biggest tosser of the year award. I’m outta here.’ And with that, Ben grabbed his bag and stormed into the hall. Seconds later the door thumped shut and a second eerie silence descended over the room.
Calmer now, their mother turned to her ex-husband and demanded the truth of his extra-marital affair.
‘It was someone from the office. It didn’t last long. You were so tied up with Lisa and the baby. I wanted—’
‘You wanted to get laid,’ slurred Lisa. ‘Good old Dad, putting himself and his needs first.’
‘Don’t you dare blame me for this, David,’ Maisie’s mum said. ‘I need to stop making excuses for your unforgivable behaviour. You’re like a stick of Blackpool rock, David Meadows; cut you open and the word selfish is written through your very core.’
‘But it was over barely before it begun,’ he blustered. ‘She meant nothing but I tried to be there for the lad, even after they moved away. I supported them properly and made sure they never wanted for anything …’
‘Huh … You always were generous,’ said their mother, slumping back into her chair. ‘Your only redeeming feature.’
‘It was a long time ago, Bev.’ He put his arm on her knee and she stared at it as if it he’d placed a hand grenade there with the pin removed. ‘We can make this work. You forgave me once, forgive me again? You’re the only woman I’ve ever truly loved.’
‘It’s not the affair, it’s the lying. All this time you had a son I knew nothing about. I want you to leave, David, and I NEVER want to see you again. Because if I do, and there’s anything pointy nearby, my javelin-throwing arm will be getting some serious exercise.’
It was with an eerie calmness and control, possibly because she was totally sobbed out, that she instructed her ex-husband to go. Maisie briefly closed her eyes as she anticipated the instigation of a whole new revenge campaign.
Her dad’s shoulders slumped and he stood up once more, preparing to depart. ‘By a strange coincidence, he only lives a couple of doors down from here, Maisie,’ he said, collecting his jacket and turning to the door. ‘Don’t blame him. It’s not his fault. His mother passed away recently and he’s moved back into the area. He’d like to meet you all, when you’re ready.’ Maisie’s heart had begun to quicken, because she knew what her father was about to say before he said it. ‘He’s called Josh.’
Chapter 49
With only the ladies left, Zoe began to pace the room and Lisa poured herself another glass from the bottle in the middle of the table.
‘I’m disgusted with Dad. All this time we had a brother we knew nothing about,’ said Lisa. ‘We could have swapped him for the irritating one we did have.’
‘I’m disgusted with you, Lisa. You’re still the same selfish, calculating cow of my childhood,’ Zoe said. ‘Look at you: totally off your face and expecting Maisie to run around after you. Sponging off her for weeks and not doing a goddamn thing to help. I don’t care if you’ve lost your job – it’s not about money, you could have done more about the house. You really think you’re lady muck, don’t you?’
‘It’s okay, Zoe. You don’t understand.’ Maisie’s tears were still plopping onto her lap. ‘She’s not well and suffering from stress …’ Although Maisie knew the truth about the job now, she was still protective of her oldest sister’s state of mind. In fact, the unemployment explained her struggles even more.
‘No, no, I’m not actually.’ Lisa’s voice was quiet. ‘You were being so lovely to me and I couldn’t face telling you the truth. I’m broke and don’t know what I’m doing with my life but I’m not ill.’
Maisie’s sadness morphed into ange
r.
‘How could you lie to me like that? You have no idea how worried I’ve been. Making excuses for your behaviour and trying to be a caring sister …’
Zoe shook her head. ‘Unbelievable. No wonder you dumped yourself on Maisie. Mum would have asked too many questions and I’d have sussed you in minutes.’
‘At least I didn’t break my mother’s heart by emigrating to the other side of the world.’ Lisa placed her wine glass down in front of her with extreme care.
There was a moment where Zoe contemplated the fact her decision to live in Australia had impacted on people other than herself.
‘You buggered off to York and practically never came home. It’s the same thing.’
‘Girls …’ their mother warned.
‘Oliver is a rubbish kisser.’ Lisa spat the last comment out – designed to wound and shock. It did both.
‘You’d better be joking …’ Zoe began to suck in a very long, very slow breath, her eyes not leaving her oldest sister’s face for a second.
‘Oh no, we snogged – not long before the wedding. Perhaps he was double-checking he’d plumped for the right sister. Y’know, sussing out his options?’
No wonder Oliver avoided Lisa at all costs. They had history and not in a good way.
There was no stopping the physical violence this time. Zoe ran up to her sister and slapped her so hard across the face that Maisie and her mother sucked in long breaths through their teeth, almost able to feel the sharp sting on their own skin. Maisie slid between them before chunks of hair were ripped out or long, painted fingernails did long-term damage to delicate skin.
‘Stop it. Stop all the nastiness, girls. I can’t bear it.’ The sisters moved apart and their mother gave a pathetic sniff. ‘I’m so disappointed in Oliver. I never thought he’d turn out to be one of them.’ Everyone in the room understood she meant their dad and any man with similar behavioural traits.
‘Nor did I, but guess that goes to show you never really know someone.’ Zoe turned to Maisie. ‘I’m sorry your meal turned out to be such a disaster, honey,’ Zoe said, deliberately turning her back on Lisa – who was clutching her pink cheek, ‘but I can’t stay here any longer. Nice idea but wrong crowd. I tried the whole blood thicker than water thing. She may be my sister but it’s in name only.’ Zoe gave Lisa a withering stare and left quietly, gliding out the room, her earlier anger dissipated through the slap.
The third awkward silence descended as Lisa picked up her teacup and swigged the last of her tepid tea.
‘To make me think you were suffering from stress …’ Maisie said.
‘That wasn’t a kind thing to do, darling. And all those posts?’ their mother added.
‘You see what you want to see, Mum,’ Lisa sighed. ‘Standing in front of a beautiful York-stone block of flats and saying I was off out for the evening wasn’t technically a lie. Selfies of me in front of a crowd of partygoers talking about so-and-so’s launch doesn’t mean I’m actually there. I messed up and tried to hide it because everyone was waiting for me to fail – well, newsflash, I did.’
‘But we would have been here for you whatever, darling. You could have come back at any point, instead of continuing such an elaborate charade. There was always a bed for you – for any of my children.’
‘I didn’t bloody know how to.’ Lisa, on the back foot, was coming out fighting. It was easier than accepting unconditional love, especially as she didn’t feel she deserved it. ‘It was like you’d all given up on me. I was never wanted. Even as a child. I had to move over for the rest of you. Why you had so many bloody kids, I don’t know. It was like …’ she paused, searching for the right words ‘… you needed more than me. And that made me feel a disappointment from the off.’
Was this what it was all about? Some irrational jealousy that her parents had more children? It really was all about her, Maisie thought.
‘How about the friends that follow your online blog?’ Maisie asked, embarrassed to have been sucked in by Lisa’s lies along with everyone else.
‘Of the three hundred, do you know how many I know in real life?’ Lisa said. They both shrugged. ‘Excluding family – four. Four sodding people. And I don’t even like two of them. I have few friends and a family who couldn’t care a toss about me.’
‘We all love you, Lisa. I’m your mother – I would die for you – but sometimes you are a really difficult person to like.’
‘So it’s all my fault, is it?’
‘Yes,’ Maisie and her mum said quietly in unison. ‘You’ve been fighting everyone for as long as I can remember,’ her mum continued. ‘Why don’t you let us in? Why don’t you embrace the love, instead of pushing it away?’
The three women all looked at each other, tears falling from every pair of eyes in the room. Sometimes no further words were necessary. Lisa couldn’t justify her actions, and Maisie and her mum had said everything they needed to.
‘I can’t do this. I’m outta here,’ Lisa muttered, grabbing her keys from the end of the sideboard, and swiping her handbag from where she’d dumped it earlier in the middle of the floor.
‘You seriously aren’t about to get behind the wheel of a car?’ Maisie said. ‘You’ve been drinking.’
‘Watch me.’ And Lisa walked out, as every other member of the family had done that afternoon, slamming the front door so hard, the house shook.
Chapter 50
Lisa tumbled into the driver’s seat and turned the wheel away from the kerb. The vehicle in front was parked uncomfortably close. She knew her judgement was off and toyed with abandoning her dramatic flit, but the anger was bubbling inside and it needed a release. Mixed with several glasses of wine, it was a dangerous cocktail. She had to get away and, anyway, it wasn’t like she was the first one to storm out.
The car bumpers missed each other by millimetres as she slipped into second gear, upping the revs and pulling into the road. Her head was starting to thump from the tension and the wine. All of those vicious truths that tumbled out around the table. She was angry with so many members of her family: her dad for keeping such a massive secret, her mother for spreading her love between too many children, Ben for giving up on them all, and Zoe … She’d never worked out why she was so angry with Zoe all the time – it had simply always been that way.
A blaring horn pierced her thoughts and a furious driver waved a fist at her. She wasn’t even sure what she’d done.
Sod them. Sod all of them. And sod Craig perhaps most of all.
She accelerated onto the main road out of town and thumped the steering wheel. How dare they judge her all the time. The need for speed was like a drug. Pressing the electric window, she allowed a gush of cool air to enter the vehicle and whip through her hair. The headache was building and somehow this rush of wind and mounting speed was a form of release. Flicking the radio on, she turned the volume up and let a pop song belt out as she headed into the countryside, down a long straight road, lined by occasional trees and low banks.
It came from nowhere. A darting shape across the road; low and quick. She turned the wheel too sharply to avoid it and the car started to skid. Overcompensating and not fully in control, she spun it back just as sharply the other way. The car snaked and left the road. Its front nearside tyre dropped down into the shallow bank and she no longer had any control. She panicked. The car flipped – a terrible cacophony of noise as metal buckled and glass smashed.
The shape didn’t look back as it pelted into a dense hedge of green, leaving the groans and hisses from the smashed vehicle in its wake. Imagine dragons played ‘Sucker for Pain’ at full volume to an empty road in the middle of the Suffolk countryside – a haunting finale to the events.
And across the deflated airbag, hanging limply from the dashboard, was a bloodstained Lisa – face down, eyes closed, and with no obvious signs of life.
Chapter 51
Maisie, wrong-footed by the speed of Lisa’s actions, hurtled through the front door, only to hear a crunch of ge
ars and see the car disappear into the distance – a little cloud of exhaust fumes slowly dispersing where it had stood moments before.
She slumped back inside and found her mum with a mobile phone to her ear.
‘It’s going straight to voicemail, love. I’m not sure what more we can do.’ Her voice wobbled as she put the phone back on the table.
‘Hopefully, she’ll park up out of sight and calm down. We both know Lisa is all about the dramatic gesture and there’s no way she’ll be outdone by a flouncing Zoe.’
‘She’s not safe to drive.’ Her mother was wringing her hands again. ‘What if she crashes?’
Maisie was torn between concern for her sister and anger that she might endanger others, but there was nothing they could do except hope she returned soon. And safely.
Trying to refocus, Maisie cleared the table. Domestic chores usually helped her deal with stressful situations and there was something soothing about putting things in order and tidying away. She needed to be in control of an activity right now – even if it was only where the cutlery lived.
‘Let me help,’ her mum offered.
‘No, I’ve got this.’ She collected the teapot and stacked some of the side plates but her mother began to silently shadow her. There were no words left. Their anxiety over Lisa and the painful revelations of the afternoon filled their heads. There wasn’t space for anything else coherent. They worked methodically, clearing the table, putting uneaten food back in the fridge, and wiping the surfaces. Lastly, Maisie returned Verity’s set to the display shelf, carefully lifting up each piece and positioning it just so.
As she reached up to place the final cup on the shelf, her mobile buzzed, startling her. Her sleeve caught on a cupboard door handle and the cup fell from her hand, bouncing off the edge of the worktop and landing with a smash on the floor. There was a pull in her chest – real or imagined, she couldn’t tell – as she stared at the jagged pieces of black and white china, playing hide-and-seek on her black and white chequerboard floor.