The Sisters (19 page)

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Authors: Nadine Matheson

BOOK: The Sisters
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‘You’d think that they’d have had enough by now.’ Emma said.

‘Now Ems. You know better than that. They’re like new born babies, they always want feeding. Oh shit,’ Meghan said as she realised that Emma had suddenly gone quiet. ‘Ems. I didn’t think.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’m ok. You can’t keep walking on eggshells around me forever.’

‘I know but…I should have thought. Are you sure you’re ok?’ Emma nodded even though she could feel her eyes were starting to burn with tears.

‘It was the first thing that I thought about when I woke up. I can’t believe that it has already been a year.’

‘You should have taken the day off.’

‘God no. I couldn’t think of anything worse than to spend the day moping around my flat. Us LeSoeurs don’t do moping.’

‘Speaking of LeSoeurs, I think your sister has just arrived.’ They both leaned over to see the paparazzi swarm like bees as Jessica stepped out of a cab. She rushed through the crowd as they repeatedly called her name. They were used to Jessica standing boldly in front of them and reading out statements for her clients. It’d been a long time since they’d had to make do with a photograph of Jessica trying to hide her face.

 

 

You wouldn’t have thought that anything was wrong as she walked boldly through the office. Whilst she’d willed herself to shower and dress for work she’d made a decision. It wasn’t about what she was going to do with her life; that was too much to think about, it was about Phoenix PR. She was proud of what she’d built but she knew she couldn’t cope with everything that was going on and if she wasn’t on the ball there was a danger that she could lose it all.

‘You want me to do what?’ Emma asked as she sat in front of Jessica. An hour after Jessica had walked into the office the paparazzi had disappeared when they’d received news that Heather Stone, who was just 17-years-old and was being touted as Britain’s next big thing, was due to arrive at West End Police Station after being arrested for assaulting her own mother. Jessica should have been at the police station with her but had sent Meghan along in her place. The last thing Jessica felt like doing was acting as an appropriate adult to a moody teenager. She was hardly the best choice when she could hardly communicate with her own child. She’d pushed paper around her desk and made a call or two giving the appearance that she was a woman in control before dragging Emma out for a late lunch.

‘You heard what I said,’ Jessica replied as she swirled the ice around her tall glass of vodka and tonic.

‘I heard you but I think you’ve made a mistake.’

‘I haven’t made a mistake. Anyway, it’s wasn’t solely my decision.’

‘Well, in that case you’ve all made a mistake. I’m not ready for all of that responsibility.’

‘You’re more than ready.’

‘You actually want me to become a director of the company?’

‘Well not just you. Wendy has agreed to become a director also…’

‘Has this got anything to do with your divorce?’

‘Of course not. It’s a business decision. Nothing more than that.’

‘And you want me to be in charge of the reality TV and wags division.’

‘You really have to stop calling it that.’

‘But why now? I mean you’ve got Christopher and Wendy…’

‘And we can’t do it all. Do you have any idea how much the business has grown over the last five years? When I first started I had just two clients and then something happened. It was as if the bubble had burst and anyone who’d even just had five minutes let alone fifteen minutes of fame started knocking on my door. Emma, you’re level headed, smart and you know exactly how this business works. You’ve always known how it works.’

‘They’ll say that it’s nepotism. That I only got the job because you feel sorry for me.’

‘I’m giving you a promotion. It’s as simple as that. Look, if I had any doubts about you, you wouldn’t have got past the reception area. Wendy would have chucked your CV in the bin and I don’t feel sorry for you. Well, I do but…you know what I mean.’

Emma nodded as she thought about what her sister had just said. It was always playing in the back of her mind that her job was no more than a sympathy vote but she knew that wasn’t true. She’d been at Phoenix for over two years and had applied for the job with hundreds of other people. Any sympathy that had come afterwards had been brief.

‘So, I’ll be in charge of the wags…sorry Celebrity and Personal PR division?’

‘Yes.’

‘Complete control?’

Jessica downed her glass of vodka and tonic and started to pick at the Tuna Nicoise Salad that had remained untouched for the last half hour.

‘Don’t get carried away. I’m still in charge, and yes you’ll have complete control. The same way that Wendy has control of the film, books and publishing division, and the same way that Christopher has control of the sport division. I’ll carry on with the corporate and media PR division and I’ve decided that we’ll have to recruit someone to head the music division.’

‘Why all the changes? Don’t tell me again that it has nothing to do with the divorce?’

‘I told you Ems, it’s just business. Nothing more than that.’

TWENTY-SIX

‘HE SHOULD have let us pick him up from the hospital,’ Emma said as she took the remainder of the shopping bags from the boot of her mother’s car. ‘He’s so stubborn.’

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He seems determined to do all of this on his own,’ Felicia said as they walked into the house. The sounds of cricket commentary escaped from the living room accompanied by Richard’s soft snoring. ‘He’s been sleeping a lot. A lot more than last time.’

Emma stood at the living room door watching her father stretched out on the sofa with a newspaper on his chest, gently sleeping. ‘Same ol’ same ol,’ she said under her breath before she followed her mum into the kitchen.

‘I made a cake this morning,’ Felicia said as she started putting things away. Emma dumped the bags on the kitchen counter and opened the ancient quality street tin that her mum used for a cake tin.

‘Mum, this is a fruit cake. I hate fruit cake.’

‘Not that one. That one’s for Beatrice. Open the other tin. I made you a carrot cake.’ Emma opened the tin and inhaled the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla as her mum handed her a knife and a plate. She watched Emma as she cut into the cake. She could clearly remember that day last year when she’d found her last daughter trying to make her way down the stairs but having to stop just under the photograph of her paternal grandfather as the pain tightened every muscle in its vice like grip.

‘Do you mind if I stay tonight?’ Emma asked as she carefully sliced the cake and placed a large piece on her plate.

‘What sort of question is that? Of course you can stay.’

‘I just didn’t fancy being on my own tonight. You know the funny thing is that I didn’t even want to get married and have babies. I know that I’m not supposed to say things like that but it’s the truth. Children weren’t even on my radar, mum. I’m a free spirit. I wasn’t ready to be tied down.’

‘It’s nothing to feel bad about. Children were the last things on my mind when I fell pregnant with Lucinda. I’d just graduated from LSE and I was enjoying my summer. The problem was, I enjoyed it a little too much because one month after starting my masters I found out I was pregnant…’

Felicia stopped talking as she diverted her attention to the kettle. Now wasn’t the time to tell her daughter that she’d been in denial about the pregnancy for nearly four months and it was only as she sat in the abortion clinic with a nurse explaining to her in detail what exactly they’d do to remove the unborn child from her womb that Felicia had walked out. She’d always fully advocated a woman’s choice to choose but at that point there was only one choice she could make. Richard had always told Lucinda that she was a lovechild but Felicia had never told her daughter that she’d never really wanted her.

‘Mum.’ Emma looked up from her plate to see her mother standing in front of the kitchen window, staring into the distance. ‘Mum, are you ok?’

‘Of course. I’m fine. So you were saying…’

‘I was just saying that it was different with you. You were excited about having a baby. I didn’t even know. There are days where I don’t think about it. It wasn’t as if I was picking nursery colours and test-driving prams but when I realised what was happening…well, I wanted him more than anything.’ Emma subconsciously moved her right hand to her stomach.

Felicia didn’t say anything because this was the first time in a year that Emma had begun to talk about it. She’d been so determined to get on with her life and had ignored any attempts to talk about it. Emma had even avoided Beatrice for a few months whilst she’d been pregnant with Sam.

‘Anyway, that was then and this is now and right now I’m worried about Jess.’

‘I’m sure that there’s nothing to worry about,’ Felicia said as she glanced at her watch. She didn’t like him to sleep for too long. It scared her.

‘She’s drinking again. A lot.’ Suddenly it was as if the world had stopped and everything had gone quiet. Even the fridge seemed to have dulled its monotonous hum.

‘Jess has always liked a drink. She’s like your father. … I’m sure that it’s not as bad as you think.’

‘Mum, it’s one thing having a glass of wine after work to wind down, but it’s another thing to knock back two double vodkas before I’ve had a chance to open a can of coke.’

‘Emma…’

‘She’s been late for work and you know what she’s like, Mum. Jess has never been late for work since that place opened, not even when she first started out and she was running it from her front room. Lena hasn’t even been staying at home.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘She’s been staying with her dad. The only reason that she’s back at home is because Christopher is in Italy with his new girlfriend.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Lena phoned and asked if she could stay with me for a couple of days.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything? She’s sixteen, she’s on holidays.’

‘Mum. Stop it. There’s something going on and it’s not just this thing with Andrew. Ever since Lucinda came back, Jessica has been acting weird.’

‘Well, you know what those two are like. Look, your sister is just going through a bad time, that’s all. I don’t think there’s any need to panic.’

‘Mum, I remember what she was like the last time she was going through a bad time.’

‘That was entirely different.’ They stopped talking as they heard the sound of the downstairs toilet being flushed. ‘Don’t you mention a word of this to your father. You hear me.’

‘Mum, we can’t ignore it.’

‘Emma, there’s nothing going on with Jessica. You’re making a big thing out of nothing.’

Emma shook her head, every instinct in her body telling her that her mother was wrong.

‘What’s done in the dark will always come to light. Isn’t that what you always say, mum?’

* * * *

‘Are you going on a date?’ Katelyn asked as she stood in front of her mother’s open wardrobe and started going through her clothes.

‘It is not a date,’ Lucinda replied as she picked up the white sleeveless chiffon blouse from the wardrobe door and held it up against herself whilst staring at her image in the mirror.

‘Well, if it’s not a date why have you changed three times?’

‘I haven’t changed three times. The first dress had a stain on it.’

‘I don’t mind you going on dates. In fact I think you should go on dates. I mean if I have to wait until I’m 16 the least you can do is go out and enjoy yourself.’

Lucinda stopped midway from removing her shorts and stared at her daughter as she took a pair of hologramic Jimmy Choos from their box and placed her feet in them. ‘Hey, they fit,’ Katelyn said as she begun to strut up and her down her mother’s bedroom.

‘You’re mad.’

‘Like mother like daughter. So what’s he like? Your date?’

‘For the umpteenth time it’s not a date. Its just dinner. To …well…to apologise and he’s, I don’t know. He’s just a man.’

‘Who has asked you to dinner. I think the blouse with this skirt.’ Katelyn handed over a pale blue pleated midi skirt. ‘Ooh, and definitely these shoes.’

‘I’ve told you this isn’t a date.’

‘That doesn’t mean you can’t look nice. Isn’t that what you always say? Always look your best.’

 

Half an hour later, Lucinda was finally ready as she put the finishing touches to her outfit with a spritz of her favourite Chanel perfume. She actually felt resentful for leaving Katelyn as she’d really enjoyed spending the time with her daughter whilst she’d got ready for her
‘not a date’
date. That was one of the blessings of moving from New York. She’d spent so much time trying to keep up with the New York Jones that she’d forgotten to keep up with her own children. She silently said a prayer and thanked God for allowing her the time to get to know them.

‘So, whilst you’re on your date,’ Reece said as he sat on the bottom step near the front door watching his mother step into her ballet flats.

‘It’s not a date,” Katelyn said as she sat down on the step behind him. ‘It’s an apology dinner.’

‘Yeah right. Mom is going on a date.’

‘I give up with you two,’ Lucinda said as she picked up her keys from the hallway table.

‘Anyway, whilst you’re on your date,’ Reece continued. ‘Eating in a nice restaurant, what are we supposed to do? I mean you don’t expect us to fend for ourselves do you?’

‘So what you can’t put pot on fire?’ Lucinda replied in a Grenadian accent reminiscent of what her mother would tell their father when he’d bang around the kitchen saying there was nothing to eat. ‘I’ve already made your dinner. The chicken curry is on the cooker and the roti is on the side covered with a tea towel.’

‘Ah, you made roti,’ Reece replied as his eyes widened. ‘Did you make that pumpkin and shrimp thing?’

‘Everything is there Reece. Now only give the roti skins 30 seconds in the microwave otherwise it’ll just turn into concrete.’

‘Cool, enjoy your date,’ Reece said as he ran into the kitchen.

‘You know, mom if the singing thing doesn’t work out you can always become a chef,’ Katelyn said.

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