Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
T hree days later and Sally is still here.
She is by turns frustrating and lovable, and I really need a crash course in how to train your twin sister.
We have not lived together since she went to university.
Once she was settled in Manchester, she rarely came back, not even for the holidays.
She preferred to spend her summers working in a chicken processing plant and sofa surfing, which tells you a lot about our home life.
I made my own way in the world, a little later, and we eventually both ended up in London.
Obviously, I’ve stayed at her place overnight, but it’s always been with the girls and Ollie around.
I’ve usually been there to provide childcare, which I was always pleased to do.
We were both permanently busy, and we’ve never been the kind of close to go on mini-breaks together.
Plus, as soon as the twins were born, Sally became a buy-one-get-two-free deal. I was more than happy with that.
Now, after spending such a solid chunk of time with her, my patience tank is almost empty.
Part of it might simply be that I feel like my territory has been invaded.
I’m used to living alone, and having her mess and her noise and her constant sniping around isn’t good for my sanity.
Some of it is tiny, like finding her hair-entangled bobbles everywhere, and some of it is just plain rude, like rearranging my kitchen cupboards because they ‘didn’t make sense’, or changing the passwords on my TV apps to ones that she could remember.
She also draws cartoonish penises in the steam on the bathroom mirror, though I have to admit that one makes me laugh.
The home invasion has also expanded to the Comfort Food Café, where she has launched a charm offensive on all of ‘my’ friends.
Sally is far more fun than I am, far easier to be around.
I can acknowledge how childish it is to be jealous, but watching her sit and laugh with the other ladies, immediately switching on to their wavelength when I had to work at it, definitely triggers something buried deep inside me.
It takes me back to our youth, to the school days when she was the popular kid and I was the shy nerd.
Maybe not that much has changed, now I come to think about it.
I’m still a shy nerd; it’s just that adult me is a lot more accepting of who I am.
Having Sally around is challenging that, and I need to get a grip.
She’s going through a tough spot, and this isn’t about me.
Today, Ollie has finally called her– after she’s been gone for two nights.
She predicted that he wouldn’t even notice she was gone, and it turns out she was right.
As soon as she mouthed the word ‘Ollie’ when her phone rang, I retreated to the kitchen.
I thought maybe she’d go upstairs to take the call, but I ended up trapped in there, trying not to listen.
Once the yelling started, I headed outside into the little patio garden to distance myself even further.
It’s lashing it down today, the first truly grim weather of October, a flood of torrential rain that is flattening the leaves of the plants and creating puddles on the courtyard.
Nice weather for ducks, as my mum would say.
I shelter as best I can by the doorway, but I still get wet very quickly.
I bob my head back inside and hear that she is finally silent. I rub my hair with a towel, and make us both coffee before nervously emerging into the living room. There is every possibility that I’ll get both barrels of her frustration.
Instead, she is curled up in a ball on the sofa, her phone on the floor, crying. It is like a thump to the heart seeing my vivacious sister so reduced. I sit down next to her, and pass her the coffee.
‘How did it go?’ I ask.
‘How did it sound?’
‘Umm… not great. But I couldn’t really hear you, I promise. What did he say?’
She laughs bitterly. ‘He said he’s been busy, and had assumed I was sleeping in the spare room– I mean, I do do that sometimes because he snores like a steam train, but never for two nights in a row! I think he only actually noticed because we ran out of milk…’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ I reply, not at all convinced that I’m right.
I’m very fond of Ollie, but he has always been on the self-obsessed side.
So has Sally, to be honest. I’ve always wondered how they made it work.
I think the girls have been their unifying bond, and now Sally is facing up to the reality of life without that human glue.
‘Well, whether it is or not, he doesn’t seem that bothered I’m gone. I told him I’d run away with my tennis coach and he just laughed and said: ‘I bet you’re with Sarah, aren’t you?’ Because apparently I’m predictable, as well as undesirable!’
I pat her hand and make soothing noises as she cries. Some of this sounds petty, but I can see how genuinely distressed she is. Sally would be the first to point out that I know nothing about marriage, but even I understand that no woman wants to feel superfluous to her husband’s needs.
‘You’re neither of those things, Sal,’ I reply. ‘You’re disturbingly unpredictable, and I bet you could have run away with your tennis coach if you’d wanted to. You’re still gorgeous?—’
‘He’s gay actually, but thanks for the vote of confidence. He– Ollie, not the tennis coach– didn’t sound bothered at all. He said I should just take a break if I needed to, and we’d talk about things when I get back.’
I nod and stay silent. Nothing I could say at this point will help.
I picked up on the yelling at her end, even if I didn’t get all the words.
At a guess, I’d say that Ollie didn’t follow her script and get dragged into the big dramatic fight that she was looking for.
She’s now interpreting that as him not being bothered. I have no idea if she’s right or not.
‘Do you want me to talk to him?’ I suggest tentatively. ‘Maybe it’s just a communication thing. You know how men can be. Ollie’s used to being the king of his ortho empire. Maybe he’s just struggling to explain himself…’
She looks up at me with tear-swollen eyes, and seems to consider it before finally shaking her head.
‘No. He can go screw himself. If he wants me to come home, he needs to convince me. I’m not willing to just trail back there with my tail between my legs and be taken for granted all over again.
I’m not even fifty, and fifty is the new forty these days.
I’m not old enough to be ignored! No, let him stew. I’ll just stay here.’
Oh goodie, I think, being very careful not to let that flash of ‘Please God, no’ show on my face. The last thing she needs is to feel rejected by me as well as by him.
‘That’s fine,’ I say. ‘Now give me a hug.’
She does, and wipes her face on my jumper at the same time. Then she immediately pulls away, and grimaces. ‘Why are you so wet?’ she asks.
She doesn’t wait for an answer and immediately moves on.
Sally is like a shark in that respect– always forwards.
I know she is in an emotional crisis, but I also know that her way of dealing with that will be very different from what mine would be.
Mine would involve solitude, weepy music and possibly ice cream; hers will involve action.
‘So,’ she announces, ‘I think I’ll stay for this Halloween Ball of yours.
Edie has invited me– isn’t she marvellous?
– but I thought I’d be gone by then. I’d better get a costume sorted.
I wonder if I can still pull off sexy nurse…
Yeah, course I can! What are you and Aidan going as?
And where has he been the last few days anyway?
Laura was really surprised about you two, you know. Why did you keep it a secret?’
Oh my , I think, buying myself time by drinking some of the cooling coffee.
The webs we weave. Layers upon layers of not-quite-truths.
I haven’t told my sister that Aidan isn’t my actual boyfriend, and I haven’t been able to explain it all to Laura either.
We haven’t been alone together, and I feel like such an idiot I don’t know where to start.
I asked Cherie if she’d tell her, but she’d just laughed and said, ‘Oh no, my love– that’s very much your mess to sort out! ’
So now I have a fake boyfriend, a live-in twin sister, and a friend who is disappointed in me for not telling her that I had a boyfriend. Which I don’t. It’s getting as twisty as one of my plots, but hopefully without the murder and maiming.
‘Oh, you know me,’ I respond. ‘I like to keep myself to myself.’
‘That’s what I told her. I said you’d always been a bit of a hermit, an emotional hoarder.’
An emotional hoarder? Is that true? Will I die one day, buried beneath a pile of emotions that I’ve kept stacked on mental shelves and crammed into mind cupboards? Crushed by all my repressed feelings ?
‘Anyway, what are you going as? Are you doing a couple thing? You know, Bonnie and Clyde or whatever…’
I can honestly say that I haven’t given my Halloween costume much thought since Sally arrived.
She’s the kind of person who demands all your attention, and it was a lot for me to adjust to.
Between her and work, I haven’t had a lot of spare time.
What little I’ve had has been filled with taking deep breaths and counting to ten.
We met Aidan in the pub for a drink last night, but we didn’t really get the chance to talk.
There was a big group of us, and I was feeling like a huge fraud because we were behaving like a couple when we’re not.
I’m going to have such a lot of explaining to do once this whole mess is over.
I desperately hope that Ollie and Sal sort out their marital problems, because I really don’t think I can keep this up much longer.
I haven’t answered her question, and she fixes me with a stare, her head tilted to one side.
‘Or is going as a Halloween couple too much of a commitment for you, Sarah? Please don’t tell me you’re already running away from him, shutting him out like you always do!
I never even got to meet that last guy, Martin, you dumped him so quickly! ’
I get up so abruptly I slosh coffee on my legs. Sally doesn’t know what happened with Martin, and that is not her fault. But I still feel stung by the way she judges me so easily, and automatically assumes that it was me who was the problem.
‘That was a complicated situation, Sally. Anyway. You’re right, I really do need to sort out something for the ball. I’m going to go and see Aidan about it. Will you be all right on your own for a bit?’
‘Yes. I’m not a child. I’ll just pop over to see Auburn in the pharmacy if I get bored. She said she has a stack of Halloween face paints in. Maybe I could be a sexy corpse bride…’
Within seconds, my sister has flipped from sobbing about her failing marriage to planning world domination.
I’m not fooled for a moment– I know her pain is still there, just beneath the surface.
But I also know that if she is choosing to distract herself from it for now, then that is up to her. Besides, I really do need a break.
I grab my raincoat, and message Aidan from the hallway.
Halloween costume crisis. Help!
Within seconds he has replied.
Can you get away for a few hours?
Definitely yes!
I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.
I don’t even hesitate. I head outside into the rain. Even that has got to be better than staying in with Sally.
By the time he pulls up in his jeep, I’m both slightly soggy and slightly tense.
Why did I call him? Why did I reach out to Aidan, when I keep telling myself– and him– that we shouldn’t be together?
There are many answers to that question, but the one I keep coming back to is this: I’m an indecisive idiot.
I actually hesitate before getting into the car, and he gazes up at me as I hover between the pavement and the open door. ‘Yes or no? Staying or going?’ he asks. ‘Are you singing that Clash song in your head?’
‘I wasn’t,’ I reply, deciding on ‘yes’, ‘but I am now. Urgh… Sally was driving me mad. And I genuinely need a costume. But now I feel like I’m a horrible user calling you when I need you.’
He turns the engine off, turning to face me. His expression is a perfect blend of exasperation and amusement, his green eyes sparkling. He nods and says: ‘I see. Have I ever struck you as being an especially weak-minded person? Feeble, even? Without any thoughts of my own in my pretty little head?’
I bite my lip. ‘No. Quite the opposite. You have way too many thoughts.’
‘Okay then. So, would I be here if I didn’t want to be?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe you feel sorry for me?’
He runs his hands through his hair and laughs out loud.
‘My God, you really are impossible! How’s this for a deal?
We go shopping. We find Halloween outfits, because I’m also sadly lacking on that front.
We have an enjoyable day together, where we avoid discussing anything deeper and more meaningful than our upcoming social engagement.
Then I drop you off home, refreshed and ready to deal with your sister, and I go back to my dogs.
Who by the way are a lot less complicated. ’
I sneak a glance at him and see the way the rain has moulded his T-shirt to his body, slicked his hair against his neck. I tell myself off for noticing these things, and remind myself we are just friends. He is a good friend, helping me out. Nothing more.
‘It’s a deal,’ I reply.