My Sister’s Lies. S.D. Robertson

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Название My Sister’s Lies
Автор произведения S.D. Robertson
Жанр Контркультура
Серия
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008223496



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take it with me if you like.’

      ‘No, Mum, please—’

      ‘Eat your breakfast then and drop it.’

      Mark was as surprised to see this work as he was about Diane not telling Mia in advance about the request she’d made of him and Hannah. Mia barely said another word for the rest of the meal and looked on the verge of tears.

      Hannah’s move to announce their decision this way, rather than speaking to Diane privately first, was – Mark assumed, even though they hadn’t discussed it – designed to unsettle her. He had to admit it was a decent way of emphasising the fact that Hannah was no pushover, despite agreeing to help. And yet seeing Diane baited in this way made him feel uncomfortable, as of course did Mia’s less than ecstatic reaction to the news.

      Later, after the pair had had their private discussion, from which mum and daughter had both emerged red-eyed but reconciled, the teenager seemed to have accepted what was happening. She still didn’t look over the moon about it, but why would she? She was essentially being left with two strangers. At least he and Hannah both remembered spending time with her as a toddler; she was unlikely to recall that now.

      Meanwhile, Diane hadn’t wasted any time in packing her things ready to leave. It was almost like she was keen to get out of there before they changed their minds. There was a stilted goodbye with Hannah, which focused on practicalities like the swapping of mobile numbers in the absence of affection. Then, in sharp contrast, Diane gave her daughter a tender, lingering hug with whispered final words and tears.

      As for Mark, he’d been tasked with accompanying his sister-in-law down to her car to pick up some further things for Mia and to give her directions on how best to drive out of the city.

      It started to feel awkward as soon as the metal doors slid shut and the two of them were standing next to each other in the lift. Staring at the red LED level indicator, Mark willed it to move faster or even to stop at another floor so someone else could get in and break the tension. Neither of these things happened and not a word passed between them.

      It was Diane who’d suggested he should be the one to accompany her to the car, and this bothered him. She’d conveyed it as being down to his strength and a presumed familiarity with the best routes in and out of the city centre, which looked very different to the last time she’d been here. However, Mark suspected it was more to do with her wanting a word with him in private, which was precisely the reason why he wasn’t facilitating a conversation by making small talk.

      There was only one subject he and Diane had ever needed to talk about in private – and just thinking about that made him very nervous, particularly after she’d been out of his and Hannah’s lives for so long now.

      Thankfully, she gave no indication of wanting to say anything as they left the apartment block and stepped out into a pleasant summer’s morning: warm but with a fresh breeze. Mark was dressed in khaki shorts and a red polo shirt; Diane was in the same navy leggings as yesterday but with a fresh sky-blue T-shirt. Speaking only for functional purposes, such as to discuss which car park they were heading to and the quickest way to get there, they walked at a brisk pace. He had offered to carry her backpack for her, but she had politely declined, saying it weighed very little.

      The multistorey NCP where Diane had parked was only a couple of streets away. When they got there, it was already chock-a-block with cars, presumably belonging to early-bird Saturday shoppers or, like Diane, people who’d spent the previous night staying nearby. Her car was a white Vauxhall Astra, a couple of years old and in decent nick. This didn’t give much away about her financial status, although, as she hadn’t asked them for money, that wasn’t particularly relevant now.

      Diane opened the boot to reveal two suitcases: one black, one navy. She indicated that the black one was Mia’s, so Mark lifted it out. Feeling its considerable weight, he was relieved to note it had a set of wheels and a telescopic handle. He certainly wouldn’t have fancied carrying it back to the apartment.

      ‘Is this all Mia’s stuff?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘It’s heavy. Does she really need so much for a couple of days?’

      ‘Teenage girls have a lot of stuff. Trust me: she’ll be happier this way than not having enough.’

      Trust her, Mark thought. That was something he would never do.

      ‘Right, well, I’d better get going anyway,’ Diane said, to Mark’s considerable relief. ‘What’s the best way to the M60?’

      He gave her quick directions back to the motorway ring road around Manchester, from which she claimed to know the way. ‘It would be easiest with a satnav,’ he said. ‘Don’t you have one?’

      ‘I do, but it’s a bit temperamental and several years out of date,’ she replied. ‘I prefer not to rely …’

      At this point, standing at the side of the car next to him, looking at a map he’d printed out from the computer to help her, Diane’s voice faded out.

      ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, looking over and seeing she’d closed her eyes and that her hands were tightly gripping the roof of the car. It was hard to tell for sure in the artificial light, but he could swear she looked paler than before. ‘Is there anything I can—’

      ‘I’m fine,’ she replied through gritted teeth. ‘It’s just stomach cramps: time of the month. It’ll pass in a minute.’

      ‘Oh, right.’ Mark felt more awkward than ever now. He didn’t know whether to look at her or away from her, so instead he found himself staring at the map and hoping his face hadn’t turned bright red.

      Sure enough, a few moments later Diane declared that she was ‘all right now’. She unlocked the driver’s door and sat down behind the wheel, accepting the map as Mark handed it to her. To his relief, she made no effort to kiss or hug him or shake his hand as they said their goodbyes, with her remaining seated and him stooped at her side, peering into the car through the open window.

      ‘Thank you for taking in Mia,’ his sister-in-law said. ‘She really means everything to me.’

      Mark was surprised to hear her voice waver as the words came out. There were fresh tears in the corners of her eyes too.

      ‘No problem,’ he said, wondering for the umpteenth time what kind of trouble she’d got herself into. ‘Take care. We’ll keep her safe for you, so no need to worry. You concentrate on sorting out whatever it is you need to do and get yourself back here in one piece. See you in a few days.’

      He stood back from the vehicle, wheeling Mia’s case with him. As Diane pulled the Astra out of the parking space, he thought he must have misjudged her reason for bringing him here. Perhaps she’d changed over the years she’d been away. But it would take much more than this to convince him – and he really struggled to picture a future in which the sisters got along again and were back in regular contact. However, there was a reason time was said to be a great healer. A couple of days ago he could hardly have imagined the possibility of her and Mia staying the night at their flat. Never mind Mia staying on alone for a short while.

      Before driving off, Diane called him over. He assumed she wanted to check something to do with the directions he’d given her, but instead she reached out and handed him a white envelope with his name handwritten on the front.

      ‘What’s this?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she replied, driving off without saying another word.

      Mark was dumbstruck. He wanted to shout after her. He even considered chasing her on foot to the exit. But instead he stood there, open-mouthed, alone in the middle of the car park, one hand on Mia’s suitcase and the other holding the letter-sized envelope.

      What the hell was this all about? What was Diane up to? Why bother to get him alone only to hand him this message, or whatever it was? Surely she could have slipped it to him at some point while they were in the apartment?

      He