The Sisterhood (21 page)

I was giddy. This was Kathy, the woman who had told my sister to abort her baby. I was right inside Liz's life. I was paying her back for being mean to me. Kathy seemed nice, and I decided Liz was probably exaggerating. In fact, I felt a kinship with Kathy. We had both fallen out with the same person.

As I was about to step, with some trepidation, into the staffroom, the door flew open, and Liz stepped out. She was frowning, and staring straight ahead. I gasped, and hid behind Kathy, who stepped backwards and trod on my foot.

'Sorry,' she said, turning with raised eyebrows. She looked at Liz's departing back. Liz had not even glanced at either of us. Instantly, the danger was over. 'Some people.'

'Right.' I couldn't say anything about Liz, because I didn't want Kathy to know that I knew her, let alone that we were family. I couldn't even hint to Kathy that I knew everything that had happened between them.

'Still, the atmosphere tends to lighten in here when she's out. So, welcome to our happy haven.'

I followed her, almost on tiptoes. The big room was messy and busy. There were adults everywhere, some in suits, most of them dressed semi-formally. There were notices all over the walls, including five or six posters about the Iraq war, a row of mainly unhealthy pot plants along the window sill (though one was flourishing and had grown almost up to the ceiling), and chairs pulled into clusters. At first nobody seemed to notice me, and then, after a few seconds, I saw that some of the men were looking at my legs.

'Yeah,' said Kathy, as she pushed past a man in his twenties who was wearing a suit and a purple tie. 'She's got legs. She's French.'

He looked anxious. 'Not a sixth former?'

'No, you're safe. Ogle away.'

'Cheers.'

I smiled at him. He smiled back. A few people chuckled, and someone wolf whistled.

By the time we found Sandrine, sitting in a corner sending a text message, I had formulated my plan.

'Sandrine,' said Kathy. 'Hi, darling. Listen, this is ...' She turned to me. 'What was your name?'

I thought I had better lie. 'Isabelle.'

'Right. This is Isabelle. She's half French. She says you've got a friend in common or something. OK, chick? Must dash.'

Kathy left us. Sandrine was truly glamorous, in a way that I only pretended to be. Her hair was expensively cut and coloured, and her clothes and make-up were more grown up than mine. She was like Juliette Binoche.

'Tu es française?'
she asked, smiling. 'Do we share a friend?'

I nodded, and slipped into French. 'I'm not sure. Are you Sandrine Dupouy?'

She smiled and shook her head. 'Not quite. Sandrine La Salle.'

I put a hand to my mouth and looked mortified, which was not difficult. 'Oh, I'm so sorry,' I said quietly. 'I thought you were someone else. A friend of my sister's I was supposed to look up in London. Sorry.'

To my surprise, she believed me.

'Hey, don't worry about it. Have a seat, anyway. How long have you been over here?'

We chatted for a while, and I was pleased, because I knew that Sandrine was Liz's friend, and had stayed friendly with her after she fell out with Kathy. I was, however, extremely nervous. As we talked, I couldn't stop my leg jiggling about. After ten minutes, I could stand it no longer. I stood up.

'Thanks for being so friendly,' I said, politely. 'I'd better go now, and let you enjoy your hard-earned break.' I looked towards the door. Liz could come back at any moment. I was suddenly certain that she was on her way. There was no way I was going to be able to explain myself if she saw me.

'Sure. Here, this is my card. Give me a call or a text sometime if you like. I can't give you any paid work, but if you could come along sometime to chat to the kids ... ?'

I smiled. 'Of course. Thank you.' I couldn't wait to get out. For a second, I seriously considered leaping through a part-open window, landing in the playground, and running. Instead, I started to edge towards the door.

'Take care.'

'Bye.'

I looked down as I walked, longing to be out of this room. As I passed, the young man in the purple tie touched my arm.

'Hello,' he said.

I looked at him. 'Hi,' I replied, and carried on walking.

'Hi. I'm Ben,' he offered. He was smiling, and I knew we had an audience.

'Isabelle,' I told him. I wished I really was Isabelle.

'Are you working here, or what? I teach geography.'

'No, I'm not working. Sorry, but I have to go now.'

'That's a shame. Will you be back?'

'Probably.' I looked to the door, terrified. 'Nice to meet you, Ben. Sorry. Bye.'

I walked away, ignoring him. I caught a few smiles between other teachers, but I tried not to look at anyone in case they spoke to me. When I was nearly at the door, it opened.

Elizabeth Greene came in. This time, she scanned the room. I turned quickly to the wall and pretended I was reading a poster.

'NOT IN MY NAME,' it said. 'Come and demonstrate against the WAR CRIMINAL Bliar. HANDS OFF IRAQI OIL.' 'Don't attack Iran,' read the one next to it. My heart thumped. I clenched my hands. She was less than a metre behind me. I was paralysed. I couldn't breathe. I heard her footsteps passing. She hesitated. I tried to think of a plausible explanation, but my mind was blank. I could hear her breathing. I clenched my teeth, my stomach, everything. I closed my eyes.

When I thought she had gone, I looked cautiously to where she had been, then walked straight out of the door, and closed it gently behind me. I had never felt this excited before. The whole experience had been strangely exhilarating.

8 May

When the buzzer sounded, I surprised myself by being ready, and surprised myself more by being in unusually good spirits. I lolloped downstairs.

Dad and Sue were on the doorstep. Dad's eyebrows were raised: this was their default position. He was always ready to be mildly surprised by something, and I had no idea what it was this time. Possibly, my visibly pregnant stomach. Sue was beaming at me, and holding a bunch of gerberas.

I stared across the road, distracted, briefly, by a figure over there. When I looked, though, there was no one. That had happened a few times lately. I shook my head. Then I noticed that Julie was standing behind Sue, trying to look as if she wasn't there. She looked as if she wanted to see me about as much as I wanted to see her.

'Hello!' I said gruffly, pushing back my hair. I had not invited Julie. I didn't want her in my house. My mood swung abruptly from sunny to stormy. I was livid at the idea that Sue wanted me to be friends with her just because we were both having babies. I almost said as much, but bit it back.

'Hi, Dad,' I said instead, giving him a kiss. He hugged me close, which was unusual for him, and I was touched. 'Hello, Sue!' I continued, knowing that I sounded too enthusiastic. 'Wow, those are gorgeous flowers. Come on in. Oh,' I added. 'Julie! This is a nice surprise.' I glared. At least I had my own home, precarious though it might be. At least I wasn't sponging off my in-laws, and not just because I didn't have any. I radiated that fact to her through the medium of the scowl as I ushered her past me, into the hallway, and watched her back follow Dad and Sue through the door to my flat and up my stairs. She was waddling. I hoped I didn't waddle. I did my best to walk elegantly, like a model.

When I caught up, closing doors behind me, I found the three of them standing in the kitchen. Dad was nodding to himself and looking around. Sue had already found a vase for the flowers; it was my only vase, a purple and pink striped one that she gave me years ago. Julie was sitting down. I gave her a hard stare, and she avoided my eye. She looked as miserable as she always did. I looked at her middle, critically. Her bump was bigger than mine, though she was due three weeks later. Her hair was loose and lank and, while her nose was red, her face was pale. I was pleased to see that she wasn't blooming either. Anna was in full, lustrous bloom, and that was quite bad enough.

'Well, you look absolutely lovely, Lizzy.' Sue knew she had to be the one to speak, because nobody else was ready to say anything. Suddenly, I wished that it was just Dad and me here. We would have been able to talk. He had always reassured me.

Sue continued. 'In fact, you're blooming. Don't you think, darling?' she added, nudging Dad. Sue was wearing purple glittery eye shadow. She took a candle from her handbag and lit it. 'For peace and concentration,' she said quietly. She put it on the table, next to the vase. A sickly smell instantly permeated the room.

'Well, very much so,' Dad muttered, looking around the room for someone who might rescue him from pregnancy talk.

'We brought Julie with us,' Sue added. 'Because the two of you have so much in common. It's wonderful, these two little souls arriving in the family at the same time. And of course you two girls don't really know each other yet, but the babies will be cousins. It's about time you had a good old natter.'

I wondered why Sue was doing this. I knew she had mixed feelings about Julie. No woman in the world could ever be good enough for Roberto. I looked hard into her face, narrowing my eyes until she half smiled and turned away.

'Liz!' she said.

I drew in a breath. I knew I was horrible, but I couldn't help it.

'I wanted to see my dad,' I said rudely. 'If I'd wanted to be friends with Julie, I'd have rung her up and said so. If she wanted to see me, she could have done the same.'

'Oh, how tempting,' Julie muttered. I ignored her.

'But you just have to interfere, don't you? You can't let me do anything my way. My baby's going to come second to your grandchild, and to add insult to injury you're trying to turn us into the fucking Waltons. Now that Julie's here, she'll have to stay, but for Christ's sake, Sue, why do you always have to do things like this? You're not even my mother.' I said it quite calmly, and was pleased that I was managing not to shout. All the same, I was incensed.

Sue had been waiting for me to finish. 'Oh, for heaven's sake, Lizzy! Listen to yourself!' She looked at Julie. 'This is what I had to put up with when she was a teenager. All the time, I tell you. Look, we know you don't mean it. You can say what you like to me. It's water off a duck's back. But you owe Julie an apology.'

I huffed a bit. I looked at Dad. He rolled his eyes at me, which meant that he agreed with Sue.

'Don't mind me,' Julie said quickly. She stood up. 'I'll just go. That would be the best. I'm not going to stay where I'm not bloody welcome. I'll see you at home.'

Sue and Dad both looked at me. I sighed.

'Don't go, Julie,' I said. Then I tried to say it again, as if I meant it. 'Sorry. Please don't go. I'm horrible at the moment. I'm so moody. I made three children cry at school last week. I've lost all my friends. I lost one the other week by going off on one when she hadn't done anything. I didn't mean to be nasty. Look, sit down. Have a drink.'

She didn't look at me. 'I'd really rather leave,' she said, in her usual monotone. 'I'm not some stupid charity case, you know. I don't actually want to be Liz's friend.'

Sue shook her head. 'No. You're staying,' she said. 'Let's get everyone a drink. Have you got any incense? The right incense would calm us all down.'

I looked at Julie, and caught her trying not to laugh. That was good enough. I sat down next to her.

'There's some nice lemonade in the fridge,' I said

'Good for growing babies,' Dad said hurriedly. He busied himself getting drinks. Dad had always been surprisingly skilled in the kitchen when he put his mind to it. He used to impress my schoolfriends by whipping up bananas, ice cream and chocolate powder into everyone's favourite milkshakes. When he remembered, he would cook dinner for the two of us and it would be better than anything we had at restaurants. When he forgot, I fetched myself a bowl of cereal.

'Two glasses of lemonade,' he said, passing them to Sue, and he looked around to see what else he could do.

'Thanks,' I said, addressing him, beyond Sue. 'Sorry,' I added, talking to Julie. I swallowed my pride. 'Sorry, Sue,' I added. I hated apologising to her. I was thirteen all over again. I reminded myself that I needed to apologise to Helen, too. Anna thought I shouldn't bother, because she said 'she sounds like baggage and no good', but I knew that I had been in the wrong. If Helen had just turned up on the doorstep or something, I would have been reasonably pleased to see her, but then again, I supposed she didn't know where I lived.

'That's OK,' said Julie, with a little tut. 'Hormones, I guess. We've all got them.' She was being distant, and all of a sudden I wanted to be her friend, after all.

'How are you doing, Julie?' I asked, as brightly as I could.

She leaned back. 'Bollocks, really,' she said, in her usual monotone. 'I don't know about you, but I've got piles like you wouldn't believe.'

I was taken aback. 'Oh,' I said. 'I've escaped those, so far. Lucky me. How did your twenty-week scan go?'

'Yeah, s'all right,' she said. 'Everything in the right place, they said.' She looked up and raised her eyebrows. 'Saw a willy.'

'You're having a boy! That's great.'

'What about you?'

'I didn't find out. The scan went fine though.' I had to leave it at that. The second scan had broken my heart. I looked at my baby, and was felled by a sudden deep longing for my own mother. The glimpse into the abyss of my loss — the loss of the only person who would have looked at me and felt like I felt, seeing my baby — had knocked me out, and I was not sure I would ever recover. It had also confirmed the dates. There was no chance that Steve had fathered this baby.

I decided not to share any of this with Julie.

'So, what do you think you're having?' asked Julie, without much interest.

'Umm. A baby?' I felt years away from giving birth. 'Dad, are you all right over there? There's pasta in the fridge and a tomato sauce in the pan. Not very original, I'm afraid.'

'Fine,' he said, with a cheery smile. 'Never better. Leave it to us.'