Rachel’s mouth nearly dropped open at this admission. Lily never helped with their mother; she avoided her as much as she could. To Lily, Janice Campbell had never been much of a mum. She’d just been a woman stuck in bed, draining their resources and time. It was awful to think, but Rachel recognized it as the truth. In those first few years after Janice’s accident, she’d been in and out of hospital, often doped up on painkillers. Rachel and her dad had taken care of Lily, and when he’d left it had just been Rachel.
“Really?” she said when she’d finally found her voice. “That’s very kind of you, but...”
“She’s my mum, Rachel. I know it doesn’t feel like it—you feel like my mum more than anyone else.” Lily gave her a lopsided smile. “But sitting with her just now, seeing her so helpless... it’s awful. No one deserves that. And I’ve hidden from the hard facts for long enough. I want to help.”
“But your exams . . .”
“I’m on study leave for the next two weeks. I can take care of Mum and study. You don’t need to do it all.”
“Okay,” Rachel said at last. She had more help than she knew what to do with now, and it felt strange. Uncomfortable. “Okay. And Meghan will help too.”
Lily didn’t reply, but she didn’t need to. Meghan wasn’t here, and Rachel had no idea when, or even if, she’d be back.
Not that she actually thought Meghan would abandon her son. Did she? Rachel mulled the question over as well as its impossible answer as Lily headed upstairs to study and she made chicken nuggets for Nathan. Would Meghan walk away one day like their father did? Rachel was half bracing herself for it, and yet she knew that was unfair. Meghan loved Nathan. She’d chosen to have him, after all. But her sister had always been unpredictable, from her six-year-old sulks to the silent retreat she’d beaten when Janice had fallen, to her choice to have a baby when there was no father in the picture and life was hard enough.
Rachel heard the front door open and then slow, quiet footsteps, like someone was trying hard not to be noticed. Rachel almost let her sister go upstairs undetected; she didn’t have the energy for a battle, and that’s what every conversation with Meghan ended up being. Besides, Nathan was happily watching the CBeebies channel in the other room; she didn’t need Meghan to step up right this second.
The stair creaked and Rachel couldn’t help herself. “Meghan.” Silence. “Meghan, I know you’re there. Can you come into the kitchen and tell me what the hell is going on with you?”
So it was going to be a battle, and Rachel had fired the opening shot. Meghan slunk into the kitchen, arms folded, face set in a sulk.
“Where have you been today?”
“Out.”
Rachel stared hard at Meghan, nearly twenty-five years old and acting like a stroppy teen. “Come on, Meghan. Give me a real answer. You dumped your son on me for the entire day while I was dealing with Mum. Don’t you think I deserve to know the truth?”
Meghan looked away, her greasy hair hiding her face. “I couldn’t face it,” she finally said, her voice low.
“It? You mean, Mum?”
Wordlessly, Meghan nodded, and Rachel held on to her temper. Just. “You think it’s easy for me, Meghan? Andrew and I had to carry Mum into the house like she was a sack of potatoes. And with the way her back is, it can’t have been fun for her, either.” Tears started in her eyes, and she brushed them back impatiently, too angry to waste time on crying. “It was hard enough when Mum was bedridden. But now she’s... Now she’s practically a vegetable. And you just scarper.”
“I’m sorry.” Meghan’s voice was so low Rachel almost couldn’t hear it. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I should have been here. But it was too hard.”
Exasperated, Rachel turned back to the tin of beans in tomato sauce she’d been opening, to go with the chicken nuggets she’d shoved in the oven. “Why can’t we eat proper food?” she said, and shoved the tin away, sending it spinning and spraying tomato sauce over the counter like drops of orange blood.
“You’re the one who does the Tesco order.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath, willing the excess emotion down. There was no point to it now; she didn’t have the luxury to indulge in tears or sulks the way Meghan did. She never had. “Look, Meghan. Something is going on with you. You don’t look well.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“I mean it. I know things haven’t been easy between us these last few years—”
“Don’t you mean ever?” Meghan interjected, and Rachel sighed.
“Fine, ever. I know we haven’t gotten along. I know I nag you about work and Mum and Nathan—”
“So basically everything.”
“Yes. Fine. But what I’m saying is we’ve managed. Mostly. But now I feel like it’s all starting to crumble and I need to know why. What I really need is to have you on board, ready to help, but if I can’t have that, at least let me know what is going on.” She lowered her voice. “And whether you’re going to leave me here with Nathan.”
“Leave?” Meghan stared at her, shocked. “You think I’d actually abandon my son?”
“What am I supposed to think? You abandoned him for the whole day without even telling me where you were—”
“That was one day. I’d never leave Nathan for good. Never.” Meghan’s chest heaved, and her eyes looked wild. Rachel held up a placating hand.
