Sister Sister(33)

‘Not too bad. I slept a bit better last night, although I was awake at five a.m. I came down to get a glass of water. I hope I didn’t disturb y’all.’

‘Not me,’ says Mum. ‘I don’t hear anything in my part of the house. Occasionally, I might hear Luke’s studio door open or close when he’s working during the night, but other than that, I’m dead to the world.’

‘Luke works at night?’ Alice looks over at me.

‘Sometimes – when the mood takes him. He goes through phases; depends how engrossed in his work he is.’

‘Like now,’ says Mum. ‘I thought I heard him in there the other night.’

‘You probably did.’ I take a sip of wine. ‘It’s one of those phases.’

‘It doesn’t bother you, that’s he’s in there all night?’ asks Alice.

‘Not really. He’s working,’ I reply.

‘I wouldn’t like it,’ says Alice. ‘I’d want him right next to me, so I knew exactly where he was.’

We laugh, despite the lack of humour I find in the statement. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ I ask.

Alice shakes her head. ‘No. I’ve had one or two, but nothing serious.’ She blinks hard and looks away for a moment.

‘You okay, Alice?’ asks Mum.

‘Yeah, sure. Sorry.’ Alice wipes under her eyes with the tip of her finger.

‘What is it, darling?’ Mum puts her glass of wine down and goes to sit beside Alice on the sofa. I straighten up in my chair, not sure what is about to unfold.

‘I never had a proper boyfriend, not one I really loved.’ She looks up at me and then Mum. ‘Daddy wouldn’t let me.’

I can see Mum physically jerk at the mention of Dad. I always knew it would be a tricky topic of conversation and I had hoped we could broach it tonight. Both Mum and I want to know about Alice’s childhood, but we had agreed not to rush her on her first couple of nights. Now, it seems Alice herself is willing to talk before we need to ask.

Mum puts a comforting arm around Alice. She glances over at me for what I assume is encouragement. I give a small nod. ‘Alice, darling, I didn’t want to rush you into talking about your father, but seeing as you’ve mentioned him, do you want to talk about it? I’ve always hoped that you were having a happy life and that your father was being good to you. I’m so sorry if that’s not the case.’

‘No, my Daddy was good to me,’ says Alice. ‘He loved me; he just wasn’t so keen on letting his little girl grow up, I guess. I just assumed all fathers were like that. I expect Luke will be the same with Hannah and Chloe.’

‘I think he’s already like that,’ I say. ‘He’s always joking with Hannah about no boyfriends until she’s thirty.’ I smile as I recall Hannah rolling her eyes at the suggestion, but then adding that boys were smelly anyway.

‘You know, I wrote to you so many times,’ says Mum. ‘But I had no address to send them to. I’ve kept them all in a box upstairs for you with gifts I’ve bought for you over the years. When your father took you to America, he promised me it was only for a holiday and that he would be back after a couple of weeks.’ I can see the pain in Mum’s eyes as she speaks; pain heavily coated with guilt. ‘I should never have agreed to him taking you. I should have known he wasn’t planning on coming back, despite what he said.’ Mum dabs at the tears that trickle from her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Alice.’

‘It’s okay. Please don’t cry. I know it wasn’t your fault,’ says Alice, softly.

‘I love you,’ says Mum. ‘I always have and never once have I stopped. Your father was a very persuasive man. I was a weak woman.’ She holds her hand to Alice’s face. ‘Please forgive me, my darling.’

Alice rests her hand on top of Mum’s. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. You’re my mother.’

I watch as Mum holds Alice tightly and I’m relieved Alice has been so compassionate. The burden of guilt may never lift from Mum, but at least now she has Alice’s forgiveness, the load will be lighter.

I top up our glasses with more wine. I think we all need it, Mum especially. She’s more composed now and while she remains on the sofa with Alice, I sit back in the chair.

‘You’re very understanding. Thank you, my darling,’ says Mum.

‘I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,’ says Alice. ‘I don’t know what really happened, Daddy never said. He didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘That first letter you wrote, when you told me the things you remembered, meant so much to me,’ says Mum. ‘Knowing you had still retained little snippets of your time here was like music to my ears. You hadn’t totally forgotten us. It gave me such comfort.’