Annie Lyons - The Secrets Between Sisters

Joe moved to stand next to Lizzie. ‘He’s a good kid,’ he said.

‘I’m sure,’ she said.

‘It’s been really hard for him.’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s hard for all of us, but Sam’s just a child. He talks like a teenager, he’s got attitude like a teenager, but he’s still a child who’s lost his mother.’ Lizzie nodded. She hadn’t expected Joe to be this open and was starting to realise how little she really knew him. She had only met him a handful of times and if she was honest, had always dismissed him as Bea’s other half and no match for her perfect sister. ‘I’m glad you called, Lizzie. I think it will help, and Sam never stays grumpy for long. I was surprised to hear from you though.’

Lizzie was ready for this. ‘I decided it was time I got to know you properly.’ She didn’t want to mention the letters. She was still working them out in her own head.

‘Well I’m glad you did. You must miss her terribly.’

Lizzie looked at him. He was a washed-out version of the Joe she remembered from years ago. He had always been tall and thin but he looked as if he’d lost more weight than he needed to. He also seemed stooped as if grief was pushing him into the ground and his face was bristly with accidental stubble; the kind that sprouted due to lack of care.

She felt an unexpected wave of fondness. ‘I do. Probably just as much as you.’

He nodded. Lizzie could see how he was struggling to keep everything together. She surprised herself by reaching out a hand to touch him on the arm. ‘It’s okay. I understand.’

He smiled at her gratefully and it was as if those two words were the permission he needed to confide. ‘I still say good morning to her,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve got her photograph beside the bed and every morning I say, Morning you, still not here then .’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’ve never told anyone that.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘You know how she used to look at people with those cat-like eyes?’ Lizzie nodded. ‘It was like you were the only person in the room. She had such presence didn’t she? And energy. And enthusiasm for life. Sometimes I feel as if Sam and I are rattling around the house like the last two balls on a snooker table. She gave us direction, you know?’ Lizzie nodded again. She knew this only too well. ‘I mean I’ve always looked after Sam, played the house-husband and all that, but she always came back. I keep expecting her to come back. Like in the mornings when I wake up, I forget she’s gone. I half expect to hear the shower hissing like in the days when she went out to work. I can almost imagine her bursting back through the bedroom door, bustling round the room, getting ready. Sam would usually have got into bed next to me and nestled into Bea’s space. Bea would often stalk towards him, fingers ready for tickling and growl, Who’s been sleeping in my bed? ’ He grinned at the memory and it seemed to Lizzie as if he were lost, almost forgetting where he was. She noticed him bite his lip in an attempt to suppress the emotion. ‘Hark at me going on. Sorry, Lizzie. It’s just good to talk to someone who knew her,’ he said.

‘Don’t give it a second thought. It is good to have someone to talk to,’ said Lizzie. As soon as the words were out of her mouth Lizzie realised the truth behind them. Bea had been the only person Lizzie had ever confided in. She was the only one who really understood and yet here was Joe, opening up to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. She admired the way he could reveal the details of his grief to her and she understood what he was saying. She felt it too. She wouldn’t necessarily reciprocate but she found it comforting to be talking about her sister and gave him an encouraging smile.

Sam appeared between them now, his face a picture of delight. ‘Did you see them, Dad? They were so cool, like funny little men. They’re called Humboldt penguins and they can swim at 20 miles an hour!’

Joe grinned at Lizzie and wrapped an arm round his son. ‘I did, Sammy. They’re hilarious!’

‘Come on,’ said Sam. ‘Let’s go and see the monkeys!’

By lunchtime, Lizzie was still in two minds as to whether meeting Sam and Joe had been the right thing to do. It had been easier with Joe than she expected and she liked him more than she thought she would. Sam was a tougher nut to crack. She’d had little experience of kids but she’d presumed them to be straightforward beings with simple needs. She’d presumed wrong. It wasn’t that she’d expected him to collapse into her arms with a cry of, ‘I love you, Auntie Lizzie.’ She had played no real part in Sam’s life and was a relative stranger. Why would he be impressed or friendly towards her just because she was related to his mother? Still, she thought she’d seen a spark of something at the funeral but it was yet to ignite today. Once, Joe had suggested that he and Lizzie pose for a photograph in the butterfly house but Sam had shaken his head angrily and wandered off. Joe had given Lizzie a sheepish look of apology, which she had dismissed with a wave of her hand. She did enjoy watching Joe and Sam together though. They had a straightforward relationship, which she didn’t recognise from her own childhood. Parents seemed to form friendship-like relationships with their kids these days. She remembered her relationship with her parents as always being stilted and off-centre, like a badly hung picture. It was as if they had never quite understood each other.

They went to the cafe for lunch, Joe waving away Lizzie’s protestations by insisting on paying. Sam had opted for pizza whilst Lizzie asked for a sandwich and a coffee. Joe had told them to find a table while he went in search of food. Lizzie saw Sam hesitate as his father walked away so decided to lead the way towards a recently vacated table by the window. Lizzie cleared away the empty cartons and drinks containers whilst Sam plonked himself down, staring out towards the flamingos and pelicans. He didn’t speak or look at her when she sat next to him. She looked over to where Joe was queuing, hoping that he might be on his way over but she could see him waving from the end of a very long queue. She wracked her brains for an easy topic but Sam beat her to it.

‘Did you ever come to see me when I was little?’ he asked.

It was a fair question. ‘Once,’ she admitted.

‘When? I don’t remember.’

‘Your mum brought you over to see me when you were a baby.’

Sam nodded. ‘Why only once?’

Lizzie bit her lip. ‘Erm, it’s a bit complicated.’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘That’s what people say when they don’t want to tell you the truth.’

‘Is that right?’ she replied, amused once again by her nephew’s frankness.

‘Yep.’

‘Well have you ever considered that people sometimes don’t tell the truth in order to protect themselves?’ She surprised herself with this comment but there was something about Sam that gave her permission to speak plainly.

Sam thought about this. ‘Is that what you’ve done?’

Lizzie looked at his earnest face. It was like looking at a little boy version of Bea and she had to glance out of the window in order to compose herself. ‘Yes. I think it is.’

‘Is that why you don’t come over to see Granny and you didn’t see Grandpa before he died?’

Lizzie knew there was no wriggling out of this. ‘Partly because of that and partly because I was angry. Do you understand?’

‘Not really,’ admitted Sam.

Lizzie was relieved when Joe appeared with their food. ‘Here we are then. They only had pizza with olives, Sammy, so you’ll have to flick them at me or Auntie Lizzie,’ he grinned.

Sam and Lizzie ate in silence with Joe adding comments from time to time. Lizzie noticed he did this, probably to keep things moving and stop them dwelling on recent events. It must have been exhausting for him. After lunch, Sam wanted to look in the gift shop. Joe and Lizzie stood back whilst Sam browsed the shelves.