The Sisters (2 page)

‘Well, did you leave her a message?’

‘Mum, what sort of message did you expect me to leave? Hi sis. I know that we haven’t spoken to each other for five years but I just thought you’d like to know that Dad has probably got about 12 months to live.’

‘When you put it like that, it’s not the greatest message in the world,’ Richard said as he emptied the bottle of Chablis into his glass.

‘Your father does not have 12 months to live,’ Felicia said defiantly. ‘That’s just the opinion of one man. Nothing is definitive.’

‘Then why are you both sitting here getting pissed at two in the afternoon?’ Jessica replied as she finally sat down at the table with her parents. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.’

‘Why aren’t you at work?’ Richard asked, in a poor effort to change the subject.

‘I had to see a client. He doesn’t live far from here, so I thought…’ Jessica’s voice trailed off. ‘So what exactly did the doctor say?’

‘That the markers were there for pancreatic cancer but that they needed to book me in for a laparoscopy and get a biopsy.’

‘So mum’s right. Nothing is definitive. There’s no need for me or anyone else to be calling Lucinda and telling her anything.’

‘Your sister has a right to know what’s going on.’

‘But dad, I don’t understand the point of telling her. I mean when’s the last time that she called you just to say hello.’

‘That doesn’t mean she should be left in the dark,’ Richard said firmly. Felicia left the table, taking the empty wine bottle and glasses with her. She didn’t want to admit out loud that Jessica might have a point. There used to be a time where Lucinda would call every week. She’d mainly speak to her dad, but it’d been months since the last call.

‘I’m going to have to go back to work. I don’t think you should be saying anything to anyone until we know for sure.’

‘We’ll see,’ Richard replied. ‘Don’t work too hard.’

Jessica got up and kissed his forehead. ‘And you will do as you’re told. I love you.’ Jessica left her parents still sitting at the kitchen table and let out a deep breath as she closed the front door behind her. She checked her phone to make sure Lucinda hadn’t returned the missed call. She would have been more than content to never speak to her sister again as she deleted Lucinda’s number from her list of contacts.

‘Did we do something wrong?’ Felicia asked as she followed Richard into the garden, twisting the single gold band on her ring finger with her thumb. Richard looked down at his feet and noticed that Ares, the dog, had followed him outside and was looking at him expectedly. He picked up the scruffy tennis ball that was nestled amongst the rosebush and threw it across the garden. ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ Felicia said as she stood next to him. ‘Did we do something wrong with the girls?’

Richard sighed as he took the ball from Ares and threw it again. ‘No, we didn’t do anything wrong. We did the best that we could.’

‘I know, it’s just that Lucinda lives halfway across the world and she never visits.’

‘She visited when I was…’ Richard was hesitant to say the word. ‘She visited last time.’

‘That was just coincidence. She didn’t visit because you were ill.’

‘She still visited.’

‘You’re always so defensive of her,’ Felicia said. ‘She doesn’t always do the right thing.’

‘When does anyone always do the right thing?’ said Richard. ‘Look, this thing is happening to me. It’s in my body. It’s mine. It has nothing to do with you or the girls. It has nothing to do with how we chose to raise them or the fact that two of our daughters don’t talk to each other, or that our baby Ems is still…’ Richard’s voice broke. Felicia put her arm around her husband’s waist and allowed him to squeeze her into him. She could hear his heart beating through his chest.

‘Sometimes I think we got it wrong. That we should never have encouraged them.’

Richard shook his head. ‘But Fliss, we didn’t encourage them. We never pushed them to become…I don’t know. Can you imagine what would have happened to them if we had encouraged them?’

‘AS YOUR best friend I’m more than entitled to tell you that you’re infuriating. Have you been living in a bubble for the past 10 years?’ Harrie asked as she took the wine glass from Lucinda.

‘I’m not living in a bubble. I’m just not obsessed with social bloody media. If it’s not on Twitter then its Facebook. If it’s not Facebook, then it’s quickergram’

‘Instagram.’

‘Whatever.’

‘Lou, honey. Paul is flat broke. He has no money. Nothing. Not a penny,’ said Harrie.

‘I don’t accept that. Paul cannot be broke. He would have told me,’ Lucinda said as she poured the remainder of the Shiraz into her own glass and walked out onto the terrace. She took a deep inhale of the warm air, which was scented with the perfume of oriental lilies, and tried to slow down the racing thoughts in her head.

‘Lou, Paul has no money. He has filed chapter 11. It’s all over Twitter. It was on E! News for crying out loud. How many times do I have to keep telling you to sign up to Twitter?’

‘Just because it’s on Twitter doesn’t make it true,’ said Lucinda.

‘Stop being a fool,’ Harrie said sharply. After being friends for 15 years, Harrie had more than earned her right to speak to Lucinda in this way without fear of retribution or social exclusion.

‘See it for yourself, Lou,’ Harrie said as she handed her the phone. Lucinda reluctantly took the phone. There was no way that Paul could be bankrupt. He had produced superstars. He had made millions. He had children and responsibilities. As Lucinda scrolled through the Twitter updates and opened the link to the bankruptcy order she had to accept that it was true. As flimsy as it was, her house of cards had fallen.

‘How can he owe the IRS $25 million Harrie?’ Lucinda asked. ‘How the hell does that happen to someone like him? How?’ Harrie kicked off her sandals and sat cross-legged on the sun lounger. With the benefit of hindsight Lucinda now wished that she’d followed in Harrie’s footsteps. Her husband, John, was a baseball player who knew that he only had about another five years left before he got benched, and when Harrie developed nodules on her vocal cords they both realised that they needed a back-up plan. John had retired early and was now a sports correspondent for ESPN and Harrie was now a respected realtor to New York City’s social elite.

‘What can I say? Shit happens,’ Harrie said.

‘Seriously, Harrie is that the best you can do?’

‘What is it that your mom says? He was stretching where his hand couldn’t reach.’

‘God, that’s exactly what she’d say. I just don’t get it. I don’t understand how this could happen to him. To us,’ Lucinda said, shaking her head.

‘He was living beyond his means. Hell, they all do it. When was the last time that you spoke to him?’

‘About three weeks ago but I wasn’t too bothered because the twins were still in touch with him until he went incommunicado about a week ago. It was his weekend to have the twins but he cancelled and since then nothing.’

‘You’ve got your own money though. It’s not as if you were relying on him to…Oh Lou. Please don’t tell me.’ Lucinda didn’t reply as she took a gulp of wine and looked everywhere instead of meeting her best friend’s eyes. ‘Lou, you do have your own money don’t you?’

‘I’ve been such a fool. I let Paul pay for everything. Even after we got divorced I just let him carry on.’

‘Lou, you can’t not have anything. That’s just…I don’t even know what it is. That isn’t like you.’

‘Harrie I haven’t worked since I got here. I mean I made the album and it sold but it wasn’t great. Then I just…I just stopped. All I know how to do is sing and I stopped doing that.’

‘Oh Lou,’ Harrie said softly.

‘Don’t say it. You don’t have to say it,’ Lucinda said as she put her glass down and put her head in her hands. Her fingers getting caught in her thick black curls.

‘You must have savings,’ Harrie said hopefully but Lucinda shook her head. Harrie sat back on the lounger and said nothing. The only sound was of music coming from the open window of Lucinda’s daughter’s bedroom.

‘You’re just going to have to go back to music,’ Harrie said once Lucinda had lifted her head.

‘That’s a ridiculous idea.’

‘Why? Lou, you’re a singer. Music is what you do. You were meant to be a star.’

Lucinda laughed bitterly. ‘Funny. That’s exactly the same thing Paul said to me when he first met me: “you were meant to be a star, angel. You don’t need your sisters. They need you.” What a load of bollocks.’

‘So you’re saying no?’

‘I’ve tried and we both know how that worked out.’

‘But, Lou you said it yourself. All you know how to do is sing.’

‘I’m too old.’

‘Please. You’re 43, not dead. You’re just scared of the hard work and the Lucinda that I know never used to be scared of hard work.’

‘Yeah, well this Lucinda can’t compete with 20-year-olds dancing in their knickers and shaking their arses on MTV. I can’t compete. No one wants me, for fucks sake, even my own husband didn’t want to work with me. I doubt that I could even get a job singing on Sesame Street.’

‘Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself. Things aren’t that bad. At least you’ve got a roof over your head.’ Lucinda didn’t say a word as she got up and walked back into the house. A few minutes later she returned with a letter in her hand and handed it to Harrie. There were now no more secrets.

‘He remortgaged the house a year before we got divorced,’ Lucinda said. ‘I didn’t think anything of it and he’d been making the repayments but now we’re behind, well I’m behind two months.’

‘Sell the house and go home,’ Harrie said as she handed the letter back to Lucinda.

‘What? I can’t sell this house. It’s my home and it’s my children’s home.’

‘Lucinda I’m your friend and I’m telling you that you can’t afford to live here. You can’t keep up with this lifestyle. Sell the house.’

‘And go where?’

‘Go back to London…’

‘London! You must be out of your mind. I can’t just up and leave.’

‘Why not? You did it before.’

‘That was different. For starters, I was single and I didn’t have two children. What sort of life would I be giving them if I just upped and left?’

‘What life will you be giving them if you stayed? Life has got to be a lot easier for you over there and at least you have your family.’

‘Family? That’s a joke. I can’t go back, Harrie. What will they think? God, I can see Jessica’s face right now.’

‘Who gives a shit what they think? What’s worse? Going home to family and giving yourself the opportunity to start again or staying here broke and being ridiculed by these people that we call friends? You know what they’re like. They’ll pounce on you. Vivienne has already called me twice wanting to know if I’d spoken to you because she was
concerned
.’ ‘Concerned my arse. Vivienne makes Cruella De Ville look like a spokesperson for Peta,’ said Lucinda.

Harrie suddenly got up and began to walk down the terrace stairs and into the garden. The sound of laughter and the smoke from a dying barbeque drifted over from Lucinda’s neighbours garden. Neighbours that Lucinda had never spoken to.

‘The market isn’t great but it’s getting better,’ Harrie said as Lucinda followed her. Both of them walked in the grass in their bare feet.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Last month I sold a house down the street for $3.8 million and that house had been remodelled.’

‘Harrie, this house is worth at least $5 million.’

‘Honey, you will not get $5 million. The market is getting better but it’s not that good. Hell, even I’m not that good.’

Lucinda said nothing as she began to consider her dwindling options and then surprised herself with how quickly her brain started working towards an escape plan.

‘The car is leased. I could just hand that back over.’

‘How much did Paul remortgage the house for?’

‘I’m not sure. Two and a half, maybe three million. I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even ask why. I just signed the bloody paperwork.’ Lucinda stopped walking and sat down on the grass.

Harrie sat down next to her friend and put an arm around her. What she really wanted to do was shake her. She’d seen it happen to women before, including her own mother. They relinquished financial responsibility and settled into their roles not giving a second thought about what they’d do if they were ever left on their own.

‘Lou, let me sell this house and go home. I won’t even take a commission. What do you call that at home, mate’s rates?’

Lucinda laughed at Harrie’s feeble attempt at a cockney accent. She could never get it right, no matter how many times she’d taught her.

‘I can’t ask you to do that. It’s your job.’

‘You’re not asking me. I’m telling you that I’m not taking a commission. Look, if I sell it for 3 and a half that means you can leave here with at least 500 grand in your hands and you’ve still got the house in London, right? I don’t remember you ever saying that you’d sold it.’

‘It’s in Notting Hill but it’s being rented out.’

‘That’s good news, Lou. At least you’ve got some money coming in.’

‘Harrie, I don’t even notice when it comes into my account. I just spend it.’

‘Jesus Christ, Lou. You just spend it. What’s wrong with you?’

‘Harrie, in all seriousness, when you’re married to a multi-millionaire you don’t really notice the small change anymore and you can’t sit there and tell me that’s not true.’ Harrie didn’t reply.

‘Well, at least you have somewhere to go when you return home,’ Harrie said.

‘If I decide to go back home,’ Lucinda said stubbornly. ‘Half a million dollars is only about three hundred grand in pounds. That’s hardly anything.’

‘Lou, three hundred grand is better than a kick in the teeth or the alternative. Do you really want to lose your home to the bank and be homeless on the streets? Believe me, it’s not so easy to walk these streets when you’re wearing five inch Louboutins and dragging a Louis Vuitton luggage set behind you.’

JESSICA COULDN’T sleep, which was why she found herself downstairs in the living room watching Moonstruck for the hundredth time at two o’clock in the morning. Her husband, Andrew, hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t in bed because he still hadn’t made it home himself. The last time she’d seen him was when he left the house on Friday morning and shouted over his shoulder that he may be out with clients tonight. To anyone else, the words
“out with clients”
meant dinner or a few drinks but Jessica knew that Andrew was either entertaining in a member’s only strip club or in the casino spending her money.