32
Before Matt returned to the UK, I heard from HMP Peterborough that Violet had added me to her visitor list, and I could now go to visit her. The hire car had gone back, so I caught a train to Peterborough and walked from the station. When I reached the prison, I lined up to show my ID, got searched, and was taken with the other visitors to my allocated seat in the visiting room.
As I sat and waited for Vi to appear, I did my best to tune out other people’s conversations. It wasn’t easy. To my left an anxious mother was trying desperately to communicate with her monosyllabic daughter. To my right a wife was staring miserably down at the table while her husband told her their son had learnt to walk. In front of me two sisters were both crying so hard they could barely speak a coherent word to each other.
What would Vi be like? We’d been so angry with each other the last time we’d met, and I had no idea how hard it had been in here for her these past few weeks.
Suddenly the door at the back of the room opened, and there she was, dressed in a drab grey tracksuit, her face turned towards the floor.
“Hi,” I said when she took the seat opposite me, taking in the pallor of her skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. “How are you, Vi?”
That got her looking up. “Absolutely peachy, thanks,” she said sarcastically. “It’s like a flipping spa break in here.”
I sighed. “Don’t be like that, Vi.”
“Well, don’t ask stupid questions then,” she retorted. “What d’you think it’s like in here?”
The old Vi. Bitter. Wanting to hurt me. I could have said she’d brought this on herself. That if she hadn’t used and dealt drugs, she wouldn’t be in here. But what would be the point? It would do nothing to bring us closer.
So instead, I told her about my visit to see Mum, because she had to know, didn’t she? I described the farm, or what I’d seen of it. Told her about Callum. Mum’s request that we keep our existence a secret from him. I said Mum was selfish. That she’d always been selfish. And that I didn’t think it would be a good idea for Vi to ever try to see her, but that she must decide for herself whether or not she did.
Vi listened to all of it without interruption, picking at the skin at the side of her fingers. Then she said quietly, “It wasn’t her fault.”
I sighed. “I know. She told me about her difficult childhood. But even so ...”
“No,” Vi said. “I don’t mean that.” She broke off, looking suddenly emotional.
I leant towards her. “What is it, Vi? What d’you mean?”
Still that same quiet voice. “The fire. It wasn’t her fault.”
“Vi,” I said, “Mum went out and left candles burning.”
Vi shook her head. “Yes, but the candles would never have set the house ablaze if I hadn’t picked one up and held it against the curtains.” She looked at me, her eyes telling the truth. “I did it, Lil. I started the fire.”
I gaped at her. “What?”
Tears suddenly started to spill down Vi’s cheeks. She swiped them angrily away, starting to talk, the words flowing faster and faster as she went on. “I begged you not to go out that night, Lil. I begged you. But you wouldn’t listen to me. You could see how upset I was, but you went out anyway. I didn’t know Mum had gone out, but you know Mum; I’d have been alone even if she was there. You were walking up the hill to meet your friends. I could hardly see you anymore, you were so far away. But I knew you’d be able to see the lights in the house if you looked back. So I picked up one of the candles, and I ... I didn’t know curtains would go up so quickly. I thought you’d look back from the top of the hill. But ... you didn’t.”
Oh, my God. Horrified, I saw myself, all those years ago, walking away from my sister. Hardening my heart against her pleas. “ Please don’t go out, Lil! Please. ” Doing my very best to focus on the pleasures of the evening ahead and not to give in to the impulse to look back and wave. Afraid that if I did, if I saw Vi’s sad little face at the window, I’d be tempted to return home.
If I had looked back, Vi and I might never have been parted.
Now, in the bleak prison visitors’ room, my sister’s voice reached me as if from a long way away.
“I was so afraid, Lil. So fucking afraid.”
I took Vi’s hand across the table, heartbroken that she’d had to carry that guilt for all those years alone. How awful. How absolutely awful. No wonder she’d had to find a way to blot it out.
“It’s all right, Vi,” I said, as if she was eight years old all over again. “I promise you: everything will be all right.”
“You don’t hate me?” she asked, her eyes large and tear filled in her pale face.
“Of course not,” I said. Because it was true. I could never hate my sister. Even after what she’d just told me. Even if she turned back to drugs as soon as she got out of this place. I would always love her. Unconditionally. The way our mother had never loved either of us.
You could love someone if you didn’t agree with their choices, I knew that now. Loving someone unconditionally didn’t mean you had to let them drag you down, or that you had to accept unkindness from them. If necessary, you could love them from a distance. But you could still love them.
The way I loved Inga even though I’d always resented her for making me keep the abortion a secret. The way she loved me even though I’d meddled in her life. And, I hoped, the way Matt loved me even though I’d kept secrets from him for years.