CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
‘Hello?’ she called, shutting the door behind her, shrugging off her pale-pink trench and kicking off her heels.
‘Through here!’ came her father’s cheerful voice, almost drowned out by the thundering sound of two Labradors bounding down the stairs to greet her.
Raina hugged the two wriggling, panting creatures and smiled. It was the warmest welcome she was going to receive in this house, guaranteed.
She found her parents in the kitchen/dining room at the back of the small house.
‘Happy birthday,’ her dad said, waving awkwardly from behind the breakfast bar.
‘It’s tomorrow,’ another voice commented.
‘Thanks, Dad,’ Raina said. She glanced over at the woman dressed all in white with her long nails, in red shellac. She was making a salad. ‘Hi, Mum.’
Her mother looked her up and down and frowned a little. ‘Is your iron broken?’
Raina smiled tightly, almost thirty years of practice stepping up to the crease. ‘Nope.’
‘Oh. And that cleanser I called you about? Are you using it properly?’
‘Where’s Solana?’
‘At the gym,’ Meggie Lewis said, her lips twitching with pride as she tossed the croutons. ‘I told her not to rush home, but she’ll drop in before you go.’
‘Well,’ Raina’s father laughed and wagged a finger, ‘we’re not eating without her.’
‘She had breakfast, she’ll be fine,’ Meggie retorted.
Raina twisted her neck until it gave a little crack. It took a lot of adjusting to re-enter this house and behave as though no time had passed. ‘Fine.’
‘How’s London?’ asked her father.
Raina thought of her podcast, her sun-filled house and Tom Branimir’s big hands.
‘It’s great.’
She moved to the fridge and found the ever-reliable jug of iced water and cucumber. She poured a hefty glass and downed it in two long gulps.
‘What’s the news?’ she asked, addressing the question to her father, because Meggie was now occupying herself with a large glass of white wine.
‘Come over here,’ he said, moving to the kitchen window. Raina obediently followed.
‘What am I looking at, Dad?’
‘Look at next door’s bin sheds.’
‘Oh, Dad.’
‘No, look. Raina, look at them.’
‘I am.’
The two of them stared out of the double-glazed window at next door’s bin sheds and Raina exhaled.
‘What am I looking at?’ she finally asked.
‘I just want to know where they get the gall?’
‘Oh, Dad.’
‘Where do they get the audacity to do this to me?
‘They’re not deliberately doing anything.’
‘Those,’ her father cried, pointing at the bin sheds, ‘are the ugliest things to darken this street since Martin’s brown camper-van.’
‘Let it go, Peter,’ Meggie said from the other side of the kitchen, adding some more ice to her wine.
Raina nudged her father and laughed, knowing that he did genuinely care about matters like this, while also appreciating the fact that he was playing it up to make her laugh.
‘You should put it on the local bulletin,’ she said impishly.
‘Don’t encourage him,’ Meggie said, moving the salad bowl to the middle of the table and opening the fridge to select some cold cuts.
Raina topped up her glass and sat down at the table, the same table she ate at for the first twenty years of her life.
The linen napkins were the same, the salt and pepper shakers were the same.
The meals hadn’t progressed beyond salads, cold cuts and the occasional healthy pizza or grilled bit of fish.
As ever, Meggie Lewis measured the portions.
‘How’s the podcast?’ her father asked.
He asked because neither of them liked to listen. They’d never responded well to Raina getting a diagnosis and liked to pretend that it was something she’d ‘grown out of’ over the years.
‘We’re nominated for two awards,’ Raina said brightly.
The fans had been so incredible about the news. Raina had cried in her bathroom while scrolling through all of the beautiful messages. Win, lose or draw, they were adamant that this should be considered a breakthrough.
‘It’s going well,’ she added.
‘Good,’ her father said, also sitting down at the table. Meggie sat as well, bringing a fresh bottle of chardonnay with her.
‘How’s Pepper?’ she asked, daintily piercing a baby tomato with her fork.
The dogs trotted into the room, having sensed that everyone was sitting down to eat. The begging began, with wide eyes and low grumbling. Raina’s father quickly opened the door to the garden, ushering them out.
‘She’s great,’ Raina said.
‘I saw her picture in a magazine somewhere,’ Meggie remarked, letting her cutlery fall to her plate as she tried to recall where. ‘Where was it, Peter?’
‘Dentist?’
‘No. Well, anyway. Doesn’t matter where I saw it. She looked fabulous. So thin.’
‘Mm,’ Raina said in acknowledgement. ‘I’ll tell her.’
‘Do.’
A few moments of silent dining. Raina wondered if it was safe to add a little salad dressing to her portion. When she eventually summoned the courage, Meggie’s eyes followed the movement.
‘It’s homemade salad dressing,’ she said. ‘Less calories that way.’
‘Wow,’ Raina said, unsure of how else to respond. She took a bite of lettuce with the dressing and grimaced at the taste. It managed to be searingly bitter while also pretty tasteless. ‘Very good.’
‘A success,’ Peter said proudly, though Raina noticed he didn’t drizzle any over his own salad.
‘How’s work, Mum?’ Raina enquired, downing more water in the hope it would remove the aftertaste.
‘Fine,’ Meggie said offhandedly. ‘The same.’
‘Mm.’
When the sound of the front door opening caused the dogs in the garden to go wild, Raina exhaled and relaxed just a molecule.
Solana was home.
She could hear the music pumping through her sister’s headphones before the young woman appeared. She was wearing athletic clothes but had clearly showered at the gym.
‘Rai,’ she cried, leaning down to plant a wet kiss on Raina’s cheek. ‘Good to see you at this table again. Happy birthday for tomorrow.’
‘How was the workout?’ Meggie asked, staring up at her youngest daughter expectantly.
‘Good, until some guys started offering unsolicited advice on my technique,’ Solana replied.
She helped herself to what little food was left and then sat down beside her elder sister.
‘I’ve been looking at flats in London,’ she said excitedly.
‘Oh, really?’ Raina asked, around a mouthful of croutons – the closest she would get to proper carbohydrates in their house. ‘Why is that?’
‘I want to move there when I’m finished with Oxford.’
‘Now, you have plenty of time left before you graduate,’ Peter said evenly, and Meggie made a noise of agreement. ‘Besides, you might want to go for your Masters.’
‘Yeah,’ Solana said slowly, sharing a look with her sister. ‘In. London.’
Raina smiled to herself and nudged her sister’s foot underneath the table.
She knew exactly why Solana wanted to leave Oxfordshire.
She was the kind of person who rinsed life out of every single rag she could find, and this county was all dried out.
She needed new diversions and amusements, and London looked like one giant smorgasbord.
‘Well, we hardly need to talk about that now,’ Meggie said, though there wasn’t much of a reprimand in her voice.
‘Pour us some wine, please, Mum,’ said Solana, pushing her empty glass towards the middle of the table.
Meggie did so without comment and Raina stuffed a little more salad into her mouth.
‘I’ve been hearing gossip online,’ Solana said, crunching on a bit of rocket and smiling innocently at Raina.
‘Have you?’ Raina asked, amused. ‘Not about me, surely.’
‘Definitely about you.’
Raina arched an eyebrow and waited expectantly for this alleged gossip.
‘Raina’s been seen around town with Tom Branimir. As in, @OfficialTomBranimir.’
Raina’s mouth dropped open. ‘Who’s your source?’
‘Not telling.’
‘Tell!’
‘Girls,’ Meggie said swiftly. ‘You know your father and I hate all the internet talk at the table.’
By ‘your father and I’, she meant her and her alone.
‘I’ll tell you after lunch,’ Solana murmured, sipping her wine with a smug expression.
‘I’m heading back to catch the train home right after we eat,’ said Raina, matter-of-factly. She knew there wouldn’t be any dedicated time for opening presents after lunch. Presents were, in her family’s sensible view, only for children. ‘So, you might as well tell me now.’
‘Who runs the podcast’s socials?’ Solana demanded.
‘Pepper,’ Raina answered. ‘She’s really good at that stuff and she enjoys it. I don’t like going on there. What have I missed online?’ she asked Solana, dreading the answer.
Solana swished the wine in her glass. ‘Were you at a posh pub with Tom Branimir and that gross blonde couple from True Love Summer?’
‘And Pepper. Yes.’
Solana whipped out her phone with a triumphant flourish. Their parents grumbled, but as it was Solana, nothing was said. Raina pretended to be nonchalant, but she watched her little sister scroll through the timeline with curiosity.
‘Here!’
Solana held her smartphone out and Raina peered at the selected comment on the screen.
It was a slightly blurry and faraway picture of her, Pepper, Seb, Ottie and Tom, all huddled around their table at the White Horse pub, the night she’d heard about her Monday nominations.
The caption said, The girl with the pink and blonde hair literally just saved me from the biggest weapon.
Absolute creep and she got rid of him. Waiting for @lizzieandblessed like a loner now.
Raina made a small noise of concession. ‘Pretty innocuous.’
‘Oh, that’s just the start,’ Solana said. ‘Once we scroll through the comments calling you a queen, there’s this.’
Raina obediently looked once again. That’s @OfficialTomBranimir and what I wouldn’t give to have him look at me like that. I send him a DM after every appearance he does on Question Time and he never even reads them.
Raina had to smile at that, picturing Tom’s face in her head.
Scrolling through his message requests, while the disdain got deeper and deeper.
She read some more comments and then her eyes stopped on one in particular.
I saw them outside the pub. He put the pink-haired girl in a cab. They’re definitely together.
‘Was everyone at the pub with us then?’ Raina gasped, unable to believe she was the subject of some strange online gossip thread.
‘So?’
‘So what?’
‘Is it true?’
‘Of course it’s not true. We didn’t leave together.’
‘No smoke without fire.’
‘Yeah, that’s what the witch burners said. No, there is no smoke. Or fire. Tom Branimir may be writing a piece about me. Which, if you’ve read his previous stuff, is not good. He’s not to be trusted.’
‘I didn’t ask if he was to be trusted. I asked if you’re sleeping with him.’
‘For God’s sake,’ barked Meggie, her bracelets jangling in distaste. ‘Don’t use that language at this table. Go into the garden with Bear and Blue if you want to talk filth.’
Both sisters clammed up, but Solana kept kicking Raina under the table, her silent and slightly aggressive way of telling her older sister that the conversation was not in any way over.