‘I am right.’ She chuckled, giving them a route out of the previous weighted conversation, as they both shifted in their chairs and emptied their glasses. Any lurking sadness whistled right out of the open sash window and disappeared over Capstone Hill.
‘Do you have siblings, someone you can talk to who knows what you’ve been through?’
‘No, just me. But I have Connie, who’s my cousin, but like a sister. She’s only a bit older than me and we were raised together. I can talk to her. I don’t always choose to, but I could.’
‘That’s nice. I’m one of six.’
‘Six? Wow!’ She couldn’t begin to imagine.
‘Yes, wow, and not always in a good way. I’ve got three sisters and two brothers.’
‘How do you keep track of what everyone’s up to?’ She pictured the comings and goings of Signal House and tried to imagine six kids running up and down the stairs.
‘You don’t really. I mean we all get on, but we’re not in each other’s pockets. I don’t see too much of a couple of my sisters. It’s complicated. My brothers are twins – a right handful, I find them hilarious.’
‘Where do you come in the pack, age wise?’
‘I’m the oldest. And therefore the most sensible and the most respected.’ He sat up straight.
‘Is that right?’ She liked the smile that played about his face.
‘No, absolutely not! That’d be my sister, who’s next in line. She’s sensible, studious. She’s the one who texts to remind about birthdays, arrangements and stuff; she’s pretty organised. Then I have one sister who lives with her mum in Wales, I think. One sister who is only a baby really, and the twins are teenagers.’
He stood and went to the blue free-standing fridge to retrieve the opened bottle of pink stuff. He topped up their glasses and she liked what this suggested; that they weren’t going anywhere.
‘Do you like Uno?’ he asked without a trace of irony as he put the bottle within reach.
‘Who doesn’t like Uno?’ It had been years since she and Connie had played it at her nan’s kitchen table one rainy afternoon in the school holidays.
‘No one I’d like to know.’ His eyes shone as he disappeared into the sitting room and she heard him ferreting in the cupboard of a dresser she’d noticed earlier, painted in a stunning Grecian blue. He reappeared with the Uno box in his hand.
‘I propose a tournament. And I should probably warn you that I’m very competitive.’
Tawrie rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles.
‘Do your worst.’ She narrowed her eyes, reached for a crisp and threw it into her mouth, before instantly reaching for another.
CHAPTER TEN
HARRIETSTRATTON
AUGUST2002
The two sisters sat at either end of the wide, comfy sofa in the sitting room in Corner Cottage with their legs curled beneath them, their bodies twisted to face each other. It was always this way – no matter how much time spent apart, within minutes they reverted to their teenage selves, utterly at ease and taking comfort from the mere presence of the other. Harriet took in her sister’s soft denim frock with its embroidered collar and skirt, and noted her mismatched socks, her style so very different from her own, which was conservative at best, practical and frumpy at worst.
An image of Wendy Peterson in her sparkly blue top on New Year’s Eve flashed in her mind. She’d thought the item gaudy, inappropriate for an early open-house drinks party with the neighbours and far more apt for a night club. Had she said as much to Hugo? Was this bitchy observation part of their post-event analysis while they cleaned their teeth or threw the spare pillows off the bed, readying for sleep? Had she inadvertentlyexpressed her distaste while all the while that sparkly blue top was exactly what he desired – or more accurately, what lurked within it? The familiar creep of cold rejection flooded her veins.
‘I love you, Hats.’ Her sister toyed with the handle of her dotty mug, filled with Earl Grey.
‘And I love you.’ It made her smile to hear the loving nickname.
‘It’s a bloody awful business all of this.’ Ellis kept her voice low, like her, aware that the kids might be within earshot and equally aware that this was Hugo’s house too. ‘How I feel about Hugo has changed, certainly for now and maybe forever.’ Ellis paused, letting this settle. ‘Only time will tell. I mean, I still love him; I can’t just switch it off. He’s my brother-in-law, Maisie’s uncle. I’ve known him since my teens and he’s been a big part of my life too, and I guess my anger is that I feel a little duped. I’m also mad because Mum was so fond of him and I can only imagine how she’d feel about all this.’
Harriet had thought similar; he was always good to their mother and she had adored him in return.
‘But I’m so goddam mad at him!’ She spoke quietly through gritted teeth. ‘Mad because he’s let us all down, done the unthinkable, but maddest of all because he has hurt you and you deserve only the best. I feel naïve in that I thought you guys were on the invincible list. I’m shocked! You two were like the gold standard! What we all aspire to – that chummy lover, best friend, comedy partner vibe that to the outside world made it seem like you were golden.’
Ellis’s words struck a chord, in that she knew this was how they had been perceived and also that there’d been no artifice in their actions; it was just how they were, how they lived: happily and in harmony. Or so she had believed.
