No Sister of Mine

by Vivien Brown

  ‘Mind what?’ Simon had come in from the garden and was standing in the open doorway that led from the kitchen to the hall, rubbing his eyes, one half of his face decidedly redder than the other. ‘Ah, it’s Josh, isn’t it? The errant ex.’

  I laughed, or tried to, and popped the straw hat on top of Simon’s head, where it wobbled a bit before tipping over one eye. ‘And now my brother-in-law!’ I gave him a warning scowl.

  I could see Simon give a slight shake of his head. He removed the hat and tucked it under his arm, still staring at the two of us as if he wasn’t sure what he was expected to do next.

  ‘Sorry, Si, but do you mind going back outside? With your face shaded this time! And I’ll bring us all out a coffee in a minute. I just want a few words with Josh first, okay?’

  ‘If you’re sure. Call if you need me, okay?’ He went, I could tell a bit reluctantly, although he didn’t make it too obvious, and I led Josh through to my small living room and pointed to an armchair.

  ‘I’ll just put the kettle on and do something with the flowers. Coffee all right? Or would you prefer tea? I expect I have a bottle of wine somewhere.’

  ‘It’s a bit early, and I’m driving, remember?’ He sank back into the cushions and smiled up at me. ‘No need to fuss. Coffee’s fine. White. No sugar.’

  ‘Yes, I remember.’

  In the kitchen I leaned on the counter and took a big, deep breath, waiting for the water to boil and my heart to stop pumping out a rhythm like some old over-heated steam train. I hadn’t seen him on his own, away from my sister, for years. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel, or even if I had ever truly forgiven him for what he had done. But now Josh Cavendish was here, in my home, and I had no idea why.

  I could see Simon through the kitchen window. He had moved into the chair I had been using, under the parasol, and was leafing through my newspaper, his own abandoned on the sun lounger, alongside the hat. His jaw was moving up and down, very slightly, as if he was grinding his teeth, and I knew he was probably holding back a lot of what he would really like to say. I had told him enough about my relationship with Josh, and how it had ended, for him to have formed a pretty strong opinion of him – and it wasn’t a good one.

  ‘So?’ I handed Josh his coffee and sat down on the chair opposite.

  ‘Oh, don’t look at me like that, Eve. There is no so. No hidden agenda. I was in the area, I had time on my hands, and I’ve never seen where you live. Call it curiosity if you like.’ He blew over the surface of his coffee, took the smallest of sips, then put it down on the table in front of him. ‘Bit too hot.’

  ‘Does Sarah know you’re here?’

  ‘In Cardiff, yes, if she was even listening when I told her where I was going. I’m sure she just tunes out most of the time when I talk about work. But here in your flat, no. I didn’t know myself until an hour or so ago. It was a spur of the moment decision.’

  ‘Yet you just happened to have my address with you?’

  ‘Okay, so I looked it up in her little address book thing before I left home. Just in case, that’s all …’

  ‘Well, it’s nice to see you.’ Was it? But then, what else was I meant to say? Bugger off, you bastard? All I felt at that moment was confused. I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to love him, hate him, treat him with indifference, or just accept him now for what he had become. My sister’s husband.

  ‘Nice?’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Is that the best you can do? Do you remember that conversation we had once, about that word? Whether it was poetic enough for you?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Come on, Eve, you must do. It was the evening you whacked me round the head like you were fending off Jack the Ripper and ran off into the night! I never did really understand what that was all about.’

  ‘I have never whacked you round the head. And I honestly can’t see any point in dredging all that up again. Now, why don’t you pick up your mug and we’ll go out into the garden and you can meet Simon properly. You were far too busy with your own friends to pay him any attention at your party, and I don’t see why I should neglect my invited guest for the sake of my uninvited one, do you?’

  ‘Sometimes, Eve, I have no idea whether you’re joking or you’re actually telling me off.’

  ‘Good,’ I said, not knowing the answer myself. ‘I like to be an enigma. Keep you on your toes.’ I stood up and led the way back to the kitchen, where I’d left Simon’s coffee waiting on the side. ‘But if you behave yourself,’ I added, as I picked up the mug in my free hand and we stepped out into my small garden, ‘and act like a brother-in-law is supposed to, I might even let you stay for lunch.’

  I did try to keep the conversation flowing, but it wasn’t easy. Josh and Simon glared at each other across the garden table like a pair of stags squaring up for a fight, and although they both spoke easily enough to me, I don’t think they said more than a few words to each other.

  ‘I think I’ll be making a move now,’ Simon said eventually, stretching as he pulled himself up to his full height and rescued his paper from the lounger.

  ‘You sure? What about lunch?’ I stood, took a couple of steps around to the other side of the table and tugged him into a hug.

  ‘Think I might head off to the pub for one of those roasts you didn’t fancy. Watch the Formula One on their big-screen TV. Leave you two to talk …’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure. You’re welcome to stay, you know. My little telly can’t compete with theirs, but there’s plenty of food here.’

  ‘Not really in a salad mood. See you soon, eh?’ He kissed the top of my head and held out a hand, stiffly, towards Josh. ‘Don’t bother coming to the door, Eve. I can see myself out.’

  ‘Well, that was a bit awkward, wasn’t it?’ Josh said as soon as Simon had gone. ‘The man is so obviously jealous.’

  I laughed. ‘Jealous? What of? You?’

  ‘Well, I did come crashing in and wreck his plans, didn’t I?’

  ‘Plans?’

  ‘Oh, you know what I mean. A sit in the sun, a pub lunch, just the two of you. Very cosy. And he’s just a friend, you say? Looked more than that to me. Looked like he was settled in for the rest of the day, until I turned up. The night too, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘Josh! It’s not what you think. Not that it’s any of your business. Now, tell me why you’re really here. I don’t buy all the “just passing” nonsense.’

  ‘Don’t you?’ He reached across the small gap between our chairs and laid his hand on my bare arm. ‘I still think about you, Eve. What we used to have. I still care about you.’

  I knew I shouldn’t, knew I really didn’t want to, but I felt it anyway, as soon as he touched me. The same spark I had felt all those years ago, when we were young and free and single. I pulled my arm away from him, quickly. ‘No, Josh. Whatever it is you’re thinking, the answer is no. You’re not allowed to care about me anymore. Not in that way. You’re married. To my sister.’

  ‘I don’t need you to remind me of that, Eve. But it doesn’t stop what I feel, does it? Or what I remember? We had some good times, didn’t we? At uni. And then, when you came to the house that day, to the party, in that little shiny dress, and with him – that Simon – hanging on your arm, and on your every word …’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. Not like that at all. Simon and I … oh, never mind. No, it strikes me that you’re the one who’s jealous, not him.’

  ‘You could be right.’ He grabbed my hand and trapped it between his own. ‘I made a mistake, Eve. A big, bloody awful mistake, that I’m still paying for. Every day of my life. And I’ve never had the chance to tell you that. I thought that now, here, miles away from everybody, while it’s just us, I might be able to say a proper sorry, and maybe even …’

  ‘Maybe even what?’

  ‘I told you once that I loved you. Only once. Do you remember?’

  I nodded, the warmth of his hands seeping into my skin.

  ‘But you didn’t say it back.
Not then. Not ever. I suppose I just need to know whether you did. Love me, I mean.’

  ‘And what possible good would it do, to either of us, for me to tell you that now? It’s been seven years. Seven years too late. And it wouldn’t matter how many times you said it to me back then, would it? Not if it was just words. You clearly didn’t love me for real. Not enough, anyway, because you made your choice, and it wasn’t me. We can’t go back. No matter how much …’

  ‘What? No matter how much you might want to?’

  I didn’t answer.

  ‘I’d go back in a heartbeat if I could,’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper. ‘To be with you, stay with you, have you still in my life.’

  ‘But aren’t you forgetting something, Josh? Like why you cheated on me in the first place. I wouldn’t sleep with you, remember? Is that why you’re here? Unfinished business? Hurt pride?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. And we were working on all of that, weren’t we? I knew you had your reservations, your anxieties. Inhibitions, even. I can’t say I understood them, but I always thought we’d get there, that things would change. We were taking it slowly, taking our time …’

  ‘But time ran out, didn’t it? You couldn’t wait any longer. And along came Sarah.’

  He closed his eyes and tightened his hold on my fingers. ‘I know. Bloody stupid of me. And I’m sorry. I wish I could go back, start again, but I suppose it’s too late now, isn’t it? There’s Sarah to think about, and Janey. And now you’ve got Simon. Lucky sod’s got the one thing I never had.’ There was a bitterness in his voice I had never heard there before. He opened his eyes again and stared into mine. ‘Good, is he? In bed?’

  I pulled away from him. ‘You can’t ask me that!’

  ‘I just did. Do you love him, Eve? The way you loved me? More than you loved me?’

  ‘I never said I loved you.’

  ‘You may not have said it, but you did. I know you did. Why else would you have been so hurt, so angry, that you’d leave home, move right down here and not come back? You loved me and you couldn’t bear to see me and Sarah together. You still can’t!’

  ‘God, you are so arrogant, so bloody sure of yourself. And, no, I don’t love Simon. Not in that way. I’ve told you, he’s a friend. My best friend. But I have no idea what he’s like in bed. What anyone’s like in bed—’ I shouldn’t have said it, blurted it out like that, but now I had I couldn’t take it back.

  ‘Anyone? What do you mean? That you still haven’t …?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to make us some lunch.’ I stood up and headed for the kitchen, but he was up immediately and right behind me, reaching for my waist, stopping me in my tracks, turning me round to face him.

  ‘Yes, I’m still a virgin, okay?’ I could feel my face flaming. ‘Is that what you wanted to hear?’

  ‘But you’re almost twenty-six, Eve.’ He looked confused, his brow furrowing. ‘A beautiful, sexy, grown woman. Why on earth …?’

  There were tears now, rushing up into my eyes, and nothing I could do to stop them. ‘Why do you think?’

  ‘Tell me.’ His face was close now, his eyes searching mine for answers.

  ‘Okay, have it your way. Make me say it. It’s because of you, okay? You. I didn’t want to be – couldn’t be – with anyone else. It’s only ever been you.’

  He pulled me into him, my wet face pressed against his shirt, his fingers moving up from my waist and curling into my hair. ‘Oh, Eve.’

  My arms went around him as if a magnet had pulled them in, and I clung to him as I cried.

  ‘And what about Simon?’

  ‘Simon’s gay, you numpty.’ And that was when I lifted my head away from him and laughed, and suddenly Josh was laughing with me.

  ‘Got that wrong then, didn’t I?’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘But not the rest of it? Because you did love me? And you still do? I didn’t imagine that bit?’

  ‘Of course I love you. I was angry with you, so angry, and I couldn’t forgive you, but that didn’t stop me loving you.’

  ‘So, what are we going to do about it?’

  ‘Well, I’m going to make lunch, and you’re going to sit here in the sun and wait for me to come back. You can read my newspaper, watch the bees, even wear the hat if you want to. And after that … I don’t know, Josh. I really don’t know.’

  I took my time in the kitchen, letting my breathing slow and my thoughts start to clear. When I came back, we picked at our food, leaving as much as we managed to eat.

  ‘It’s because I’m only hungry for you,’ Josh said, taking my hand in his, and we both laughed at what a corny line that was, but I knew what he meant because I felt it too. Somehow I wasn’t afraid anymore. Maybe it was the passage of time, or the heat of the moment, or just knowing that this was it, finally, my chance to take back what I had lost, and that I couldn’t let it pass by, couldn’t waste it.

  We left the plates, the flapping parasol, the solitary straw hat, and walked back into the flat, my hand still cradled inside his as I led him through the hall and into my bedroom. The bed creaked as we sat on it, and I felt myself shiver as Josh very gently removed my clothes, his fingers lingering on my skin, taking his time, making sure I was with him, willing, wanting this as much as he did. No rush, no panic, no fear, just a warmth that crept over me and a feeling of coming home, of being where I had always belonged.

  If only I had allowed this to happen the first time around. If only I hadn’t let thoughts of that scumbag Arnie hold me back, colour my judgement, ruin my life …

  But none of that mattered now. I was older. Wiser, perhaps. No, not wiser. This was far from wise. But I was certainly more confident, and more accepting. The past couldn’t be undone, but this was now, and Josh was here, where I had so badly wanted him to be. I didn’t stop to think, to question, to let common sense in. I went with my heart, and we made love, slowly, tenderly, his hands guiding me, showing me where to go, what to do, while he took me to places, sensations, heights I had had no idea existed. And not for one moment did I think of Arnie, or of Sarah. Or even Janey, and what this could do to her. Just Josh. Only Josh.

  Later, when I woke from a warm, wet, wonderful sleep to find Josh gone, there was one of those small plastic bags that the banks use, full of fifty pence pieces – maybe twenty or thirty of them – lying next to my face on the pillow, with a scribbled note beside it. I held it up to the fading evening light coming in from the window, and read the words:

  More sorry than I can say.

  I had almost forgotten our rule about not saying sorry and having to pay up if we did. I held the note against my chest and smiled, all the old memories flooding back. I just wished I knew, this time, what it was he was so sorry about. Was it the afternoon we had just spent together? Oh, God, I hoped not. I didn’t regret a single moment of it. Or did he just mean he was sorry for the mistakes of the past? For abandoning me for my conniving, back-stabbing, teenaged sister?

  It was only as I reluctantly got out of bed and headed for the shower that I realised he must have brought the coins with him, that the apology had already been planned before he even arrived. I might never know whether what had just happened between us had been planned too, but that wasn’t what he was saying sorry for. And, rapidly pushing aside the image of Sarah that had suddenly popped into my head, I knew I wasn’t sorry about it either. After all, she was the one who had stolen him from me. All I was doing, in some small secret way, was reclaiming what was rightfully mine.

  Chapter 16

  SARAH

  There was no doubt that Janey was the invisible glue that held our little family together. We had wanted a baby so badly. Not to replace the one we had lost exactly, but to give some sort of meaning to our situation, to justify our marriage, not only to everybody else but to ourselves too. We had married so young, and so quickly, and for one reason only, yet the baby we lost had left an emptiness I had never expected to feel. Trying a
gain seemed like the only way to make things right.

  It had taken us so long to make baby number two that I had started to worry there was something wrong. I knew I was okay. I must be. I had already been pregnant, and without even trying, but what if it was Josh? What if he wasn’t producing good enough sperm, or any sperm at all? If he was ever to be told something like that by some well-meaning doctor he would inevitably start asking questions about my first pregnancy. How it had happened so easily then, when now it wasn’t happening at all. But, in the end, we were lucky and Janey came along before we had reached the dreaded infertility investigations stage, and before we decided to give up and go our separate ways, which I had started to believe was a real possibility.

  I often wondered why he had stayed with me so long, when it was obvious he didn’t love me. Not deep-down love me, anyway, the way I had come to love him. But Josh took his responsibilities seriously. It must have been his Catholic upbringing, or perhaps just that he had no real reason to rock the boat, but it was his career that so clearly mattered the most. Not me. His job at the bank gave him status, fulfilment, ambition, and if he looked to his own parents for a role model marriage, then that was the kind of marriage we ended up with too. Practical, comfortable, functional. He worked and earned. I cooked and cleaned and lay on my back a couple of times a week, enjoying what he gave me but always desperately hoping for a level of passion that never quite materialised. The cracks had definitely started to form, like those tiny hairlines that appear on a ceiling and gradually get wider, while you’re not even looking, until one day the whole lot comes falling down. But Janey turned up just in time, and changed things.

  Janey became the reason Josh came home at night. He doted on her, right from day one. It didn’t hurt that she looked so much like him either. Two peas in a pod, the absolute image, apples not falling far from the tree, and all those other silly phrases people kept coming up with as soon as they saw them together. For the first time, I saw true love in his eyes, but it wasn’t directed at me.