Читать книгу My Sister’s Lies - S.D. Robertson - Страница 9

‘I think I’ll head to bed and read for a bit, Mum,’ Mia said after they’d finished eating. She looked across the dining table, first at Hannah and then Mark, adding: ‘Would it be all right for me to have a shower first?’

‘Of course,’ Hannah replied, even though the question hadn’t ultimately felt directed at her. ‘You know where the bathroom is. Help yourself to a towel from the pile in there and feel free to use whatever toiletries you need. The shower is pretty straightforward, but give me a shout if you need any help.’

She smiled at her niece, who pursed her lips and muttered, ‘Thanks,’ in response.

Mia still hadn’t shown much sign of coming out of her shell – at least not to Hannah. Mark, on the other hand, had had some success at getting the teenager to chat when he’d started asking her about what kinds of TV shows and films she liked. They’d both seen a lot of the Marvel superhero movies, apparently. Plus they shared an affection for this weird, nerdy cartoon about space, time travel and that kind of thing. Hannah had seen Mark watch it a few times and dismissed it as nonsense. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but it definitely wasn’t her cup of tea. Neither was the Marvel stuff, to be honest.

Her ears had pricked up, however, at Mia’s mention of reading. This was much more her field than Mark’s, who rarely found time to read anything but the paper these days. So before her niece disappeared from the dining room, she asked her what she was reading.

‘Oh, you wouldn’t have heard of it,’ Mia replied.

‘Try me,’ Hannah said, throwing Mark a glare designed to remind him not to say anything about the upcoming release of her own novel, which she’d warned him not to mention in front of Diane. It wasn’t something she was ready to share with her yet.

Mia let out a tiny, almost inaudible sigh. ‘Fine. It’s called Dust.’

‘Oh, you mean The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman?’

‘No. It’s called Dust.’

‘I see,’ Hannah replied, shaking her head. ‘You’re quite right, then. I don’t think I have heard of that. Who’s the author? Is it YA?’

Mia frowned. ‘He’s called Hugh Howey. It’s the third part of a post-apocalyptic sci-fi trilogy.’

‘She reads a lot,’ Diane explained after Mia had left the room. ‘She’s a proper bookworm, like you were at that age. A different kind of book, mind. She’s definitely not into the girly stuff. And it’s not only the arts that she does well in at school. She’s also really good at maths, computing and the sciences. She’s quite the all-rounder.’

‘Really?’ Mark said. ‘That’s interesting.’

Hannah said nothing. She knew the ‘girly stuff’ comment was a dig at the kinds of novels she used to tear through as a youngster: mainly love stories and classics by the likes of Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters, which Diane had regularly branded a waste of time. Such disparaging remarks were precisely the reason she didn’t want to mention her own book. Hannah was fiercely proud of her achievement; while a part of her wanted to boast about it, she also didn’t want to give her sister the chance to pooh-pooh it.

Diane had barely read at all as a child, so it was definitely interesting that Mia was a keen reader, especially with all the other distractions on offer these days.

Mark, obviously thinking along the same lines, continued: ‘I thought kids didn’t read books any more. That’s what you always hear in the news. They’re supposed to be permanently glued to their smartphones, right?’ He laughed, pulling his own phone out of his shirt pocket and giving it a little shake. ‘Just like the rest of us.’

‘Good point,’ Hannah added. ‘I haven’t seen Mia on a phone once. Doesn’t she have one?’

‘Oh, she has one all right,’ Diane replied. ‘She usually spends more than her fair share of time on it, believe me. She hasn’t today because I confiscated it.’

Hannah and Mark both looked at her expectantly after this, the implication being that she should elaborate, but no further explanation came.

Anyway, now Mia was on her way to bed – a move quite possibly pre-orchestrated by her mother – Hannah assumed the reason for their journey up north was soon to be revealed.

Part of her dreaded what was about to come. And yet, anticipating it would almost certainly involve Diane eating humble pie and asking for her help in some way, the competitive-sister streak in her was, in a warped way, slightly looking forward to it.

Deciding to let them stay the night had been similar. If Hannah was totally honest with herself, the fact that Diane had seemed so desperate – like she had no other option – had appealed to her sense of one-upmanship, as well as her compassion.

It was hard to feel anything approaching love or affection for Diane now when Hannah considered the awful state she’d been left in by her departure and the resulting loss of contact with her niece. Gradually, with a lot of patience and support from Mark, she’d learned to cope. She’d grown numb. Once warm emotions had run colder and colder until they’d frozen solid; she’d finally accepted the harsh reality that, for all manners and purposes, she no longer had a sister.

Except suddenly here she was again … dining and soon to be sleeping in her home.

How was Hannah supposed to deal with that? No wonder she felt so confused and conflicted.

‘Well, who wants some coffee?’ Mark asked, clapping his hands together as he stood up from the table.

‘Good idea,’ Hannah added, also getting to her feet and starting to clear the plates. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’ She looked at her sister as she added: ‘Then we can all sit down and have a good chat, right?’

Diane nodded, her face looking very pale all of a sudden. ‘Of course. But could I be awkward and ask for tea instead of coffee?’

‘No problem,’ Mark replied.

She also made a move to get up and help clear the dishes, but Hannah told her it wasn’t necessary. ‘You go and grab a seat in the lounge,’ she said, keen to have a few moments alone with her husband before the big discussion.

‘So what do you think she’s going to say?’ Hannah asked Mark a few minutes later. She spoke in a low voice but was glad of the noise of the kettle and coffee maker to ensure they weren’t overheard.

He shook his head. ‘I really have no idea. She’s played her cards very close to her chest so far. It could well be money she’s after, I suppose. What kind of car has she got?’

‘I’ve not got a clue. I didn’t ask. Why would I? And I didn’t see them arrive in it. I don’t even know where she’s left it. A nearby car park, I suppose, although that won’t be cheap.’

‘Didn’t she ask if we had a space?’

‘Yes, when she first arrived, but I explained it was taken up with our own car and we didn’t discuss it further. I was too shell-shocked by her arrival at that point to even think about it. What’s her car got to do with anything anyway?’

Digging out some chocolates from the cupboard to serve with the drinks, Mark replied: ‘I thought if it was a battered old thing, that might be an indicator of money issues. Never mind. Most people buy cars on credit anyway.’

‘And if she does ask us for cash? She can see we’ve got plenty to spare, based on the apartment. So do we help her out or not?’

‘She’s your sister, darling. What do you think?’

Hannah peered at the coffee machine but saw it wasn’t quite finished yet. ‘Well, my first reaction would be to say no. She can’t just waltz in here after everything that’s happened and pretend like we’re still close. I’d send her to Dad, although I guess she’s already tried him first—’

‘Whoa, slow down, Han. You’re making a lot of assumptions here. Why don’t we wait and see what she has to say? It may not be what we think at all. And we don’t have to say yes or no to anything straight away. We can say we need a little time to discuss it with each other and think it over.’

Hannah let out a sigh. ‘The problem is Mia. I wouldn’t want her to suffer in any way, even though she doesn’t seem to like me very much.’

Standing behind his wife, Mark reached around and encircled her waist with a strong arm, planting a tender kiss on her neck. ‘What do you mean? Why do you think she doesn’t like you? You barely know each other. She’s a teenager, that’s all. They’re supposed to be grumpy. It’s in the job description.’

Mia popped her head into the lounge to say goodnight as they were serving up the hot drinks.

‘Sorry, you don’t want a tea or coffee at all, do you?’ Hannah asked her, feeling bad for not offering earlier, even though she was keen to get on with their adults-only conversation.

‘No, she’s fine,’ Diane answered. ‘You’ve already brushed your teeth, haven’t you, love?’

Mia nodded.

‘Enjoy Dust,’ Hannah added, immediately wishing she hadn’t, for fear of sounding like she was trying too hard.

Mia nodded again and, before disappearing off to her room, whispered something to her mum.

‘No, not now,’ Diane replied. ‘You can have it back in the morning, like we discussed. And don’t go rooting through my stuff for it, because you won’t find it.’

Hannah realised they were talking about Mia’s confiscated mobile and, although she left without saying anything more, it was clear from the stamp of the teenager’s feet that she wasn’t happy with the outcome.

They’d put her and Diane together in the larger of their two spare bedrooms, which contained twin singles. There was also a double bed in the third room, but it wasn’t made up and Hannah hadn’t felt like making the extra effort to do it.

Once they heard the bedroom door shut, Mark walked over to the lounge door and shut that too, signalling it was time to get down to business – whatever that meant.

Hannah was really glad he was here. Mark was her rock and she wouldn’t have wanted to do this without him. It helped that he knew all the ins and outs of what had gone on between the two sisters, having witnessed first-hand the detrimental effect it had had on his wife.

Mark could see her sister for what she was: an adept manipulator, who knew exactly how to wrap unsuspecting people – particularly men – around her little finger. Not that she’d shown much sign of that skill so far today. But why would she in the company of people already wise to her tricks?

Hannah was actually surprised how accommodating Mark was being. He’d made it clear long before the sisters’ falling-out that he neither liked nor trusted Diane – and the way things had ended up, he’d been proved right. Not that he’d ever said so. He wasn’t that kind of man. As for what was going through his head right now, she couldn’t be sure. Hannah didn’t even know what she thought about this weird, uncomfortable situation. It all hinged on what her sister was about to say.

‘So,’ Mark said, sitting back down next to Hannah on the couch and pouring some milk into his coffee.

From the armchair opposite, Diane cleared her throat before finally beginning to talk.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken so long for me to get to the point, but, as I mentioned earlier, I really wanted to wait for Mia to be out of the way. This isn’t a conversation for her ears.’

She paused to take a sip of her tea as the others watched in silence.

‘So you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here after all this time. You must think I have a right nerve turning up like this – I get that. But here I am anyway and, as you’ve probably guessed, I need to ask for your help.’

Diane stood up and walked over to the window. She stared out over the city and gave a dramatic sigh, leading Hannah and Mark to flash each other a confused sideways glance.

‘I’ve missed this place,’ she went on, continuing to gaze outside with her back to the others. ‘I didn’t think I would, but it’s true what they say: home is where the heart is. It’s been far too long …’

Diane paused again, running a hand through her short hair. Hannah could feel Mark getting edgy, his knee jumping up and down next to her. She was on the verge of saying something herself – telling Diane to stop messing around and get to the point – when her sister turned back to face them with tears running down her face.

Despite everything, seeing this instantly made Hannah want to jump up and give her a hug. It was instinctive, particularly because crying wasn’t something she’d witnessed Diane do many times as an adult. But Mark must have sensed what she was feeling; he pressed a firm hand on to her knee and whispered in the tiniest of voices: ‘Don’t.’

So she didn’t. She stayed put and told herself, even though her heart said otherwise, that they were probably crocodile tears. She waited for Diane to carry on, which, after taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes with one hand, she did.

‘So the reason I’ve come here isn’t to ask you to do something for me. Not directly anyway … It’s for Mia.’

These words sent Hannah’s mind racing, because they weren’t at all what she’d expected to hear. Maybe the visit wouldn’t turn out to be about money after all, she thought. Unless Diane wanted to enrol Mia in a private school or something and she needed help paying the fees. Was she being bullied perhaps? Gosh, it would be hard to say no if that was the case.

‘Would you like a tissue?’ Mark asked, as Diane’s emotions got the better of her again. He reached into a drawer under the coffee table, pulling out a box and handing it over.

‘Thank you,’ Diane replied, accepting it, then wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.’

Was this all for show? Hannah wondered. She knew what her sister was capable of, but this was very convincing. If it wasn’t for Mark’s hand, clamped back on her knee after getting the tissues, she’d have definitely got up to comfort her by now. ‘It’s okay, take your time,’ she said instead, not wanting to appear totally cold-hearted.

‘Right,’ Diane said, sitting back down after a long moment, placing a hand on each arm of the chair and slowly exhaling. ‘I can do this.’

Hannah wasn’t sure whether this was meant for herself or for them, but either way it appeared to work. Speaking slowly and steadily, her eyes darting between her two-strong audience and occasionally into the distance, Diane finally got to the point.

‘I’m in a big mess,’ she said. ‘As you can probably see. I’m afraid I’m not in a position to tell you why right now, for reasons that will become apparent later, but I’ve got some things I need to sort out: really important things. I can’t emphasise that enough.

‘Both of you must know deep down that I wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case. I mean, I could totally understand you thinking this to be some kind of bullshit, but it’s not. Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, it’s not. I’m backed into a corner and I’ve literally nowhere else to turn.

‘So what I’m here to ask you, to get to the point, is whether you could possibly look after Mia while I get this mess fixed. Above all else, I want her to be safe and, well, I can’t think of a safer place for her to be than here. I realise you hardly know her, or her you. I take full responsibility for that. But … you’re family.’

Diane continued talking, but Hannah didn’t listen to the rest. She was too busy trying to absorb what she’d just heard. It was almost an anticlimax after what she’d been expecting, and yet it was also huge.

Her long-lost sister was essentially begging them to take in her pride and joy: the child Hannah had always secretly envied her having; the niece she’d mourned the loss of; the teenager with whom she’d so far struggled to bond. Wow. She really hadn’t seen this coming.

It was actually flattering that Diane found this the safest place to leave her. But why here and not with their father or one of the friends she must have made during her time in self-imposed exile? And what was this trouble she’d got herself into that she couldn’t discuss?

‘You’re both very quiet,’ Diane said, pulling Hannah back into the moment. ‘What do you think?’

‘Um.’ She looked over at her husband. ‘I think it’s something we’ll need to discuss privately, right, Mark?’

He nodded. ‘Definitely. And I’m sure you have a few questions, Hannah, because I know I do. This has obviously come as quite a surprise.’

‘Sure,’ Hannah replied, her mind already a whirr of thoughts, examining the ins and outs of having her niece coming to holiday with them.

Although some of the practicalities were of concern, such as how she’d find a way to bond with Mia and whether it would affect her writing schedule, on balance she actually felt pretty excited about the idea.

Mark was staring at her, an expectant look upon his face, so she indicated that he should fire away with his own questions first.

‘Well,’ he said, appearing a bit thrown by this, ‘for a start I was wondering when you were thinking of. We were considering taking a couple of last-minute trips away this summer, so there’s that to bear in mind. Also, how long are we talking about: a few days; a week? Obviously, it would be nice to have some kind of idea about that.’

Mark cleared his throat. ‘And as for this mess you say you’ve got yourself into, it’s all very vague. It’s not going to result in any, er, problems landing at our door, is it?’ He blushed, hesitating before adding: ‘Um, don’t get me wrong, I’m not referring to Mia as a problem. What I mean is … I’m simply concerned one or both of you might be in some kind of danger.’

Mark nudged Hannah at this point – a gesture obviously meant as a request for her support. But all she could manage was to nod her head and say: ‘Yes, quite.’

Hannah wasn’t surprised by his questions. They were very practical and a far better reflection of his views on children than his successful chat with Mia earlier might have indicated. Clearly the idea of their niece staying alone with them for any amount of time concerned him. This was no surprise to Hannah. Mark wasn’t into kids. He’d been that way for as long as she’d known him. He wasn’t particularly interested in them and he’d never wanted one of his own.

To be fair, this was something he’d made clear to Hannah from an early stage in their relationship. At that point she had hoped to have a family one day and, naively perhaps, thought she’d eventually be able to persuade him otherwise. But as they’d got to know each other better and moved from dating to living together, with marriage becoming a possibility, Mark had re-emphasised that having children wasn’t something he ever wanted.

She still remembered what he’d said to her during one particularly intense conversation, which had proved to be a crossroads event in her life. She’d been twenty-four at the time. It was a frosty January night in Didsbury, south Manchester, where they’d been living then. They’d been out for dinner at an unremarkable Italian restaurant that no longer existed and, having shared a couple of bottles of red, their talk on the way home had turned serious.

‘You know how much I love you, don’t you?’ Mark had said, squeezing her hand through her leather glove.

‘Of course,’ she’d replied, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘Me too.’

‘Well, because of that I need to say something, before it’s too late.’

These words had made Hannah’s heart stand still. She’d felt a sudden sense of panic rise up in her chest. ‘That sounds scary,’ she’d replied in a small voice, fearing that Mark was about to break up with her.

‘Sorry. It’s about kids. It’s been on my mind for a while. I’ve told you already I don’t want to have them, but before we take things to the next level, I need you to understand that I absolutely mean it. It’s just … I don’t really get children and I don’t want to be responsible for bringing another life into this world. I’m one hundred per cent serious – and I’m afraid that’s never going to change.

‘The thing is, Han, that I know you would like a family. And because I love you so much, I can’t let you stay with me thinking I’ll be able to give you that. I won’t. So as much as it would break my heart to lose you, I’m giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card. I don’t want to be the one who stops you getting what you want out of life.’

The conversation had continued for a while, and much soul-searching on Hannah’s part had followed it. During this difficult period, she focused on the fact that she’d never felt anything close to the love she did for Mark for anyone else before. She simply couldn’t imagine a life without him, as her recent panic at the prospect of being dumped had demonstrated. Plus there were solid reasons for Mark’s standpoint, rooted in his past and a tragedy that had ripped his family apart. So ultimately Hannah had decided their relationship was worth the sacrifice.

A few days after she’d told him this, he proposed, and the following year they were married.

Since then, there had been a few private regrets along the way – particularly when, out of the blue and with no father on the scene, Diane had announced she was pregnant with Mia. However, for the most part, Hannah hadn’t looked back. She and Mark still had a wonderful relationship; they enjoyed the kind of varied, glamorous, spontaneous lifestyle that only a childless couple of their age could.

It was this her husband was keen to protect, she assumed, with his queries about the details of Diane’s request. But despite her antagonism towards her sister, Hannah was feeling increasingly excited at the prospect of Mia coming to stay. What could be the harm in it?

Diane was just about holding things together. In answer to Mark’s questions, after wiping her eyes again and then blowing her nose, she said: ‘I, um, was hoping you might be able to take Mia right away. It shouldn’t be too long until I get things sorted: hopefully only a few days. And, no, there’s no chance of any danger, as you put it, following us here. You’ve nothing to be concerned about.’

‘What about you?’ Hannah asked her. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

‘I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, but please don’t push for any details because I can’t provide them. It’s better that you don’t know anyway.’

‘And Dad? Why did you come to us rather than him? Or did you try him first and we were second choice?’

‘Dad’s about to go away on a cruise around the Med. But even if he wasn’t, I couldn’t bear the idea of bloody Joan getting her claws into Mia. Believe it or not, you two were always first choice.’

Well, at least we still agree on something, Hannah thought. Joan was their father’s second wife, who’d appeared on the scene far too soon after their mother’s death for her liking. Hannah had always thought of Joan, who was nine years younger than sixty-seven-year-old Frank, as a gold-digger. And despite the fact they’d been together for a long time now, she’d never taken to her. Joan had been a widowed neighbour of her parents, who’d rather quickly turned into something else after Maggie’s death. Once she and Frank had got married, she’d convinced him to move to a village near Cambridge to be close to her family yet far from his northern roots. That said, he was at least living much closer to Diane and Mia in Bournemouth than he had been previously.

Hannah could understand why Diane wouldn’t want Joan manipulating her daughter like she had their father, who was a different man now than he had been with their mother. He was henpecked, basically, living the life she wanted him to lead and never daring to contradict her.

After a few more quickfire questions and answers, Diane said she’d give them some time alone to discuss the situation and followed Mia off to bed.

‘So,’ Hannah said to Mark once it was just the two of them in the lounge, ‘what do you think?’