Here We Lie (35 page)

I grit my teeth, now irritated by how patronizing he is being.

‘You’re missing the point, Jed. I’m sorry it’s not all sorted in my head. I just know I don’t want to be with you any more.’

Jed’s fist closes around the diamond ring in his outstretched hand. His knuckles are clenched so tightly they are white. In a stride he closes the gap between us. He looms over me,
gripping my chin with his free hand and forcing me round to look at him. He is so close I can feel his breath on my skin. I stare into his eyes. He raises his clenched fist.

‘Fuck you, Emily.’ For a moment I think he’s going to hit me. I flinch. But then he throws down the ring and storms out. I hear Rose murmur something as he walks through the
living room. A second later the front door closes. I sink into a chair.

Rose appears in the doorway. Her face is ashen. ‘I am so sorry,’ she says. ‘I didn’t think he would be so . . . so vicious. He must be really hurt.’

I turn on her, my whole body trembling. ‘I know that you want to protect me, Rose, and I can never repay all the looking after me that you’ve done but you shouldn’t have called
Jed. You
have
to stop thinking you can run my life for me. Jed was a mistake. But he was
my
mistake.
My
responsibility, for me to deal with in my own time.’

Our eyes meet. I can’t read Rose’s expression at all.

‘Okay,’ she says. ‘But I still think Jed is better for you than Dan Thackeray.’

‘And what makes
you
so super-qualified to run my relationships?’ I ask, my temper rising. ‘From what I hear, you’re not so great at managing your own. Simon more
or less told me that you dumped him because you’d had a fling with someone else. What makes you think you’re in any position to lecture me? At least I’ve made a decision about Jed
before
I’ve got involved with anyone else.’

‘How
dare
you say that.’ Rose’s face drains of colour. ‘And look, you’re admitting you
want
to get involved with Dan. Even when Jed is a million times
better for you.’

‘Shut up about it, this is none of your business.’

Rose gasps. Immediately I feel desperately guilty. I haven’t spoken like that to my sister since I was about sixteen.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have told you to shut—’ Rose cuts me off with a wave of her hand.

‘No,’ she says, drawing away and wrapping her dressing gown around her. ‘You’re right, this is none of my business. I just care about you.’

There’s a long pause. I don’t know how to explain to Rose that caring about me can’t mean telling me what to do. Not any more.

‘I’m going to bed,’ I say. I head upstairs and straight into my old room. I shut the door and sit on the bed. A few minutes later I hear the floorboards creak as Rose passes by
on the landing. I wait for the sound of her bedroom door closing, then crawl under the duvet. Breaking up with Jed is a sideshow. The real, awful drama is what Cameron is doing; the secret I have
to keep; the lies I must tell. I finger the gold bracelet on my wrist, then undo the clasp and take it off. I can’t wear it any more. It represents everything that is wrong: it’s a gift
bought with drug money from a man who lies for a living, who has lied to my brother and is now forcing me to conspire in that lie. And it’s the same gift that Dee Dee was wearing when she
lost her life in a brutal murder that can never now be revealed . . . that will never now be avenged.

‘All packed?’ Rose made sure there was a bright smile on her face. But inside she felt like crying.

‘Yeah, I’m done.’ Emily’s eyes sparkled with excitement. ‘There’s a pool on the grounds so I’ve taken one of your swimsuits, is that okay?’

‘Sure.’ Rose gulped. ‘But no late-night pool parties where you might drown and don’t get too drunk and never walk home after midnight on your own and don’t go on a
first date without—’

‘. . . without telling someone where you are, yeah, I
know
, Rosie.’ Emily rolled her eyes and danced away, pirouetting across the living room.

Rose watched her spin. God, but she was pretty: her perfectly proportioned oval face animated by a vivacious personality; Emily exuded innocence and fun in equal measure. Rose had no doubt but
that men would be all over her like a rash. And how was Rose supposed to protect her all the way from home? At least there probably wouldn’t be that many guys on the teacher-training course.
Why couldn’t Emily have stayed at home to do it? She had been content to stay home through university but Rose had sensed her restlessness over the past year and knew Emily was at long last
truly ready to leave.

Rose had dreaded this day for a long time but now it was here, it was far, far worse than she had expected.

‘Okay, okay.’ Rose forced another smile across her lips. ‘Just remember you’re not too old, young lady.’

Emily giggled and scampered off back up to her bedroom. She was acting like a ten-year-old, Rose reflected. No one who looked at her would believe she was twenty-three. At that age Rose herself
had been working for five years, with sole responsibility for a truculent teenage girl. No, that wasn’t fair. Emily’s truculent years had been behind her by the time Rose had reached
her mid-twenties. Since the sixth form Emily had been a delight to have around the house, doing the chores Rose set without complaint, always letting her sister know where she was and working hard
to get through her A-levels and into uni.

‘Any more bags?’ Martin peered around the living-room door. He frowned as he caught sight of Rose, perched unhappily on the edge of the sofa. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

‘Nothing, I’m fine.’ She looked away, out of the window.

Martin sauntered over until he was standing directly in front of her. He was tall, now. And good-looking in a lean, rangy way. Since he’d got his marketing manager job two years ago
he’d started spending more money on clothes. Right now he was wearing jeans with a zig-zag designer label Rose didn’t recognize and a fine-knitted John Smedley jumper.

‘Rosie?’ Martin put his hands on his hips. ‘Are you okay?’

Her lips trembled slightly. ‘Course, it’s just I’ll miss her, that’s all.’

Martin gathered her into a hug. Rose let him, though her arms remained stiffly by her sides. Both her brother and her sister had always been more tactile than she was. Martin in particular had
become very affectionate in the past few years. They had been close since that time he was arrested at uni. Rose had driven up to see him and they’d talked for the first time about how
resentful Rose sometimes felt looking after Emily on her own. For a few minutes, Martin had seemed to be accusing her of
using
Emily as a way of not getting on with her own life. Which was
obviously nonsensical as proved by the fact that he had soon backed down and they’d ended up talking long into the night. Since then Martin had opened up about all sorts of things, mainly to
do with his love life which seemed to involve shocking (to Rose) amounts of casual sex. At least he’d stopped taking drugs.

‘Is it Mum and Dad?’ he asked. ‘I mean, does it bring back all that stuff?’

Rose shook her head though truthfully she knew that anticipating an Emily-sized hole in her life shone a light directly onto the loss of their parents.

‘It would make sense if it was,’ Martin continued, releasing her from the hug. ‘She gave you a reason for living after. Now she’s properly leaving home, maybe the grief
can come through.’

Rose felt the familiar twitch of irritation she always did when Martin insisted on analysing her. He’d done two years of therapy while he was a student and ever since then he had a
tendency to dissect people’s motives, which Rose felt was as intrusive as it was pointless.

‘I’m
fine,
’ she persisted. ‘It’s just what it is. Emily’s going and I have to adjust.’

‘I’m ready!’ Emily bounced into the living room. ‘Family hug!’ She bounded over and hurled herself between her siblings. For a second they stood there, each with
their arms around the others. Feeling the press of her brother and sister’s hands on her back, Rose suddenly wanted to cry. A huge sob grew inside her, but she pushed it back. She needed to
put on a brave face for Emily. Anyway, she was only feeling emotional because Martin insisted on raking up all that history about Mum and Dad.

They drew apart. ‘Mum would have been so proud of you, today, Flaky,’ Martin said, his eyes glistening as he pulled Emily back for another hug.

Emily looked up at him adoringly. ‘D’you really think so?’

‘Course, she thought teaching was a brilliant career. I remember her saying once she wished she’d trained herself.’

Rose pursed her lips. She was quite certain that their mother had never said any such thing. Still, she couldn’t fault Martin’s desire to make Emily happy.

‘Come on,’ Martin went on. ‘Let’s go now. Beat the traffic.’

Emily turned away from him and put her arms around her sister.

‘Bye, Rose.’

Rose’s eyes filled with tears and this time she couldn’t stop one from trickling down her cheek. She felt another twinge of irritation.
This
was why she hadn’t wanted to
go to Emily’s halls with her, because she’d known she would just get all emotional. Yet here it was, happening in her own home anyway.

She disentangled herself from her sister and wiped her cheek as if brushing off a speck of dirt. ‘Go on, get going. It’s a long drive.’

Emily gave her a final kiss then skipped out of the door. Martin patted his pockets to make sure he had his car keys. It was a gesture that reminded Rose sharply of their father. He followed
Emily to the door, turned and waved at Rose and disappeared.

The front door shut. Rose could hear Emily chattering down the path. Then silence. Terrible, oppressive, overwhelming silence. It filled the house. Rose’s whole body tensed with fear. She
shook herself. There was nothing to be afraid of. She was free to do whatever she liked. Maybe go to the shops or take in a movie. It was only Saturday morning. She had the whole weekend to fill
and no plans.

She wandered over to the sofa. The cushions were both to one side on an arm, where Emily always put them when she was sitting there, legs tucked under her, elbow resting on the top cushion. Rose
put the cushions in their proper places, separated and leaning against the back of the sofa. Then immediately changed them back to their Emily positions.

She sat at the other end of the sofa and stared at the cushions and the empty space beside them. A wave of desolation swept over her. She could call one of her friends, except most of
Rose’s friends were really just work acquaintances; her old friends had either dropped her years ago or were themselves now busy with young families. She could go on the internet and check
out those uni courses she’d been thinking about, except she wasn’t properly interested in any of them.

She glanced at the coffee table where her phone rested on top of one of Emily’s magazines. This one was called
Heat
and carried the headline: ‘2004’s Most Embarrassing
Beach Pictures’. Rose occasionally flicked through its pages but she couldn’t be bothered even to look at it today.

She picked up her phone instead. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t spoken to Brian in more than a month. She’d told him after their weekend in Paris that it was over. They’d met
when he came into the shop. She’d known he was married right from the start because his wife and two daughters had been in the shop with him. As they’d examined the novelty bakeware,
Brian had fixed Rose with the most intense, most sexual stare she’d ever seen in her life. Never mind that at forty-three he was many years older than her and that his muscles were soft and
his belly more than a little flabby. He was a successful businessman who took her and her work seriously. He admired her, he said. And he fancied her rotten. If she called him, Rose was in no doubt
that he would find a time to come over – either tonight or tomorrow. He would bring flowers and adoring words. They would have sex which would go on forever thanks to the Viagra she knew he
would have popped beforehand.

Brian liked it best when she was on top, thrusting her breasts in his face. Ugh. Frankly the thought of the sex left Rose cold, but she liked performing for him, he was just so appreciative, so
full of wonder at her body, so delighted at her attention.

Rose put down the phone. No, she shouldn’t call. She didn’t want to start all that up again.

On the other hand, the prospect of spending the entire weekend alone was more than she could bear. After all, it was a special case, this weekend, what with Emily leaving home. And her brother
and sister need never know about the affair.
Would
never know.

It was a secret. Rose’s secret. And afterwards, because no one else knew, she would be able to convince herself that it hadn’t really happened at all.

Comforted by this thought, Rose picked up her phone again and made the call. Brian didn’t answer so she left a brief, carefully casual message asking if he was around. She imagined him
seeing her call, then making an excuse to his wife and creeping outside to call her back. Her phone rang and a smile curled around her lips. There he was.

‘Hi there, lover boy,’ she purred.

‘God, I’ve been thinking about you
all the time
,’ Brian said.

‘Have you?’

‘Can I see you later?’ He let out a soft groan. ‘God, I’ve missed you, sexy girl.’

Rose hesitated. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘When are you free?’

‘I could get away early evening for a bit. Can’t stay over, but I . . . I’ll say I have to drop something off at the office, that’ll give me a good few hours.’ He
paused. ‘If I had had some notice I could get away for longer.’

Rose settled back on the sofa. Part of her hated the idea she was being fitted into Brian’s busy life. On the other hand, Brian did tend to talk a lot about himself. A few hours of his
company was, if she was honest, the perfect amount.

‘That’s fine, darling,’ she said. ‘That’s just fine.’

Martin parked his car feeling satisfied with his day. Emily was safely settled in her lodgings. Unlike Rose, he had no doubt that she would sail through teacher-training
college. She would certainly soon make friends, she was too bubbly and confident for any other outcome. Rose worried too much. The girl was twenty-three, for goodness’ sake. Okay, she’d
never lived away from home before, but that childlike manner of hers belied a genuine toughness. It was his older sister he fretted about. She had always over-protected Emily but the truth was that
she probably needed Emily now far more than Emily needed her.