Chapter Thirty-Four Jemma
Chapter Thirty-Four JEMMA
‘Whoops, Ange, look at the time!’ Mum leaps out of her chair, gesturing for Angela to join her. ‘We have to meet Gina in twenty minutes.’
‘Who is Gina?’ I ask through a forkful of mashed potato.
‘She’s our officiant!’ Angela beams at me, as she stands up, pulling on her coat. ‘She’s delightful.’
Salma leans in. ‘I love the name Gina. It’s so close to being Vagina.’
I snort at her immaturity and Harry – on the other side of me – joins in. Across the table, Buffy glares at the three of us.
We invited Mum, Angela and Buffy over to ours for dinner. I think we’re all feeling a little fragile and wanted to be together. It’s been four days since Clara flew back to America with Brandon. Five since our fight in Clara’s old bedroom – now Buffy’s room.
I haven’t heard anything.
‘Do you think the name Vagina will ever come into fashion?’ I ask, and Salma sits up straight.
‘One day I hope!’ she pronounces, and eyeballs Buffy.
‘Can you make it trend on TikTok?’ Buffy looks away, disgusted not so much by the question but by being spoken to at all.
Salma continues, ‘Our generation was taught to be repulsed by our vaginas! We all use stupid euphemisms like foof and lady bits because we can’t possibly be proud of our sexual organs.
’ She pauses, muttering again, ‘ Foof! We’re adult women, imagine how stupid it is!
’ She stops to shudder. ‘Wouldn’t it be brilliant if women got brave enough to actually call a kid Vagina!
’ She nods defiantly. ‘That’s it, I’m totally going to call my daughter Vagina. Or Vulva.’
‘Isn’t that a make of car?’ Buffy looks intrigued, despite herself.
‘That’s Volvo,’ Harry explains helpfully, then looks wistful. ‘Hey, Buffy, you and Clara should’ve got to know each other better. I feel like you guys would’ve had a lot in common.’
I stand up at this, taking my plate into the kitchen and dumping it loudly in the sink.
I don’t want to talk about my selfish sister.
Especially not in some sad, sappy, nostalgic way.
She’s let us all down! She’s disappeared just when I – when people – were getting used to having her around.
And even though Mum’s maintaining a brave face about it all, I know for sure that this has broken her heart.
I’m the one who had to tell her Clara was married.
I’m the one who had to tell her she’d only come back to us to avoid having a difficult conversation with her husband.
And I’m the one who had to tell Mum she’d gone back to him and was missing the wedding.
I’m the one who had to watch our mum’s bottom lip wobble and her eyes well up as she insisted it was fine and she understood.
I listen to her out in the hallway now, fretting to Angela about where her glasses are.
She was so excited about having the three of us as bridesmaids this Friday.
She was so thrilled about having her two daughters by her side for her big day.
It meant a lot to her, despite all her protestations tonight.
She keeps waving her hand and saying it’s completely fine that Clara’s gone and it’s just a small ceremony anyway, but I know she’s really devastated.
I’m so mad at Clara for doing this to her.
And I’m so mad at this lot, who already seem to have pre-forgiven her! She’s not even said sorry or begged for forgiveness. From what Salma’s said, she’s been ignoring all of their texts completely. And yet here they all are, being soppy and sad about her absence.
‘We’d better get going!’ Mum calls to Angela from the hallway, popping her head around the doorway. ‘I bought pudding, it’s in the kitchen. Enjoy. We’ll be back in a couple of hours to get Buffy. Thanks for having us, it’s been lovely.’ She smiles, but I can see the sadness underneath.
‘Have fun with Gina,’ I call, matching her bravado.
‘Give my best to Vagina!’ Salma echoes innocently as Harry laughs. Even Buffy breaks out a small smile.
‘I’ll get dessert,’ Buffy says, leaping up gracefully, and returning moments later with a Tupperware of brownies.
‘Found them!’ she says gleefully, yanking off the lid. We all dig in, shovelling in two each, before Salma breaks the brownie-induced silence.
‘You know…’ she sounds sad. ‘It really sucks that she’s gone.
It’s the season finale of Book Boyfriend this week – we’ll finally see if George and Julianna get together.
Clara would’ve wanted to see that. And I’ve got that interview with Milo Samuels on Friday afternoon – after your mum’s ceremony – I was going to bring her along. ’
‘Not that she cares about Milo anymore,’ Harry says quickly. ‘She’s back with her husband, remember. She’s getting her happily ever after with him instead.’
‘Ughhh!’ I throw up my arms. ‘Why do you two keep bringing Clara up? She left! I was right about her all along. She’s selfish, secretive, narcissistic and just plain knobheady.
She lied to all of us about her life. She abandoned me, you guys, the house.
’ Another wave of anger floods me. ‘And do you know how embarrassing it is that she’s skipped out on the job at the library?
I haven’t even been able to face going back to see if there’s a note in Too Good to Be True waiting for me!
I told Mack Clara was the right person for the job and she wouldn’t let them down – but of course she did.
That’s all she does to people. She’s let us down, she’s let my mum down just before the wedding, and she’ll probably let down this guy Brandon that she married on a whim.
I can’t believe he’s willing to forgive her after what she did.
She’s disappeared on him – it’s awful!’ I shake my head, furious.
‘I told you how sad he was about it all? He looked so broken. And yet of course he’s forgiven her, like everyone always does!
She’s the most selfish person I ever met and I shouldn’t have to be nice to her just because we’re related.
I never want to see or speak to her again. ’
There is a quiet around the table, as Harry and Salma stare down at their laps.
My mouth flaps open, trying to find more words. The right words. I need them to understand that I’m right. I need them to comprehend that I’m the only one who truly knows Clara. Who knows what she’s like. I grew up with her. I know her.
‘Look—’ I begin, but I’m interrupted by a loud knock at the front door. Salma jumps in her seat as Harry sighs under his breath, reluctantly getting up to go answer it.
I look down, feeling both Buffy and Salma’s eyes burning into me. In the silence, we hear the low hum of Harry speaking to someone out in the hallway. The voices gradually get louder and we exchange curious looks, leaping up to see what’s happening.
The woman at the door is wild-eyed and frantic, her hair loose and messy around her shoulders.
‘Who the fuck is that?’ Buffy asks in a loud voice.
Salma answers in a murmur, ‘Clara’s mate, Amanda.’ She regards her with amusement. ‘Buffy, didn’t you go with them to get that furniture? You must’ve met her?’
Oh! This is the famous Chest of Drawers Amanda.
Buffy shrugs. ‘I have face blindness for anyone over the age of twenty-five.’ She shudders at the idea, then sneers at Salma. ‘Honestly, I don’t even know who you are.’
Across the hall, Amanda raises her voice. ‘I’m not going until you tell me where she is!’ Her voice is firm and Harry looks a little frightened.
‘I already told you, Clara’s not here!’ he replies, but she shakes her head.
‘Yes, but where is she?’ She holds her hand against the door even though Harry isn’t trying to close it, eyeing her old chest of drawers sitting in the hallway. ‘And why isn’t she replying to my messages? I’m worried about her! Has something happened?’
Harry glances helplessly over at me, Salma and Buffy. I don’t know why he’s trying to protect my sister; she doesn’t deserve it. I step forward, folding my arms across my chest crossly. ‘She went back to her husband .’
Amanda regards me blankly and I await the barrage of confused questions. Instead she frowns. ‘Brandon? No, you’re not serious?’
I gape at her, my chest tight. So Clara told this random woman she’s known for two sodding minutes about her secret husband. But not us. Not her flatmates, not her family, not her twin sister . Unbelievable.
I turn to head back into the living room, shouting over my shoulder, ‘Yep.’ I collapse onto the sofa, reaching for another brownie. Sugar is the only thing I can think of that might help right now.
After a few seconds, the group follow me in. Amanda is with them.
‘Sit down,’ Salma is saying nicely as Harry fetches Amanda a glass of water. ‘Would you like a brownie?’ She looks at me. ‘Jem, are there any left?’
I casually shove the Tupperware in their direction and Amanda takes a slab, that worried expression still plain on her face. ‘Do you really mean it? Clara’s back with Brandon? She got back with him? Why would she do that?’
‘I told her to,’ I say with a shrug, staring forward, eager for her to leave.
She squints at me. ‘You what ? Why the hell would you do that?’
I sit up straighter, feeling defensive under the heat of this stranger’s judgemental gaze.
‘Because it was the right thing to do,’ I reply.
‘They’re married and she left him without an explanation over in New York.
He was heartbroken and miserable. She’s a coward.
’ I sniff. ‘I can’t even believe we’re related.
I could never walk away from someone I love like that.
Letting them think I’m dead or injured. Letting them fear the worst like that, it’s so low.
She’s – there’s no other word for it! – she’s cruel . ’
Amanda looks alarmed. ‘ He’s the cruel one!
’ she cries. ‘She had to leave him like that.’ She sighs deeply.
‘Brandon had her under some kind of horrible spell, and believe me, I know.’ Her breath gets shuddery.
‘She confided in me because my ex was the same as Brandon: awful, mean, cheating constantly.’ She swallows and looks down in her lap.
‘When I tried to end things, he’d suddenly become charm personified, showering me with love and promises.
Brandon did the same to Clara. She couldn’t resist his manipulative pull. ’
There is silence in the room as horror dawns on me.
‘No.’ I start to shake my head. ‘No, he can’t be… that can’t be… she would’ve said something… he didn’t seem…’
Amanda laughs shortly. ‘Yeah, they never seem . That’s how they get you.
It’s how they keep you confused and controlled.
’ She stands up abruptly. ‘I’m sorry to barge in like this, I’ll go now.
But you need to know this is a bad guy. You should call her, tell her to come home. He’s not a good person.’
I look up at her. ‘She didn’t tell me,’ I say quietly, pleadingly, and Amanda nods.
‘I didn’t tell my family and friends either.
I think Clara was embarrassed to admit the truth.
’ She regards each of us in turn, taking in Harry, Salma, Buffy and me.
‘She felt so stupid about it all. Believe me, it’s humiliating.
It feels like it’s your fault. But she really loves you all. Really, really.’
There is a long silence before Harry stands up. ‘We have to go get her,’ he says with determination in his voice.
‘No,’ I say firmly, also standing.
‘Jemma!’ Salma shouts, furious. ‘This is not a competition between you!’ She sounds more exasperated than I’ve ever heard her.
‘She’s our friend, too. You can’t stop us caring about her.
Life was just better with her around. And yes, all the stuff you said earlier is true.
She is a selfish, immature nightmare, but she’s also a real person with a good heart.
We have to help her. We have to get her away from this bloke. ’
Harry nods, leaning closer. ‘It’s true, Jemma.
’ His eyes are wide and sincere. ‘I know Clara teases me all the time, but she’s all bluster.
Underneath it, she’s kind and sweet.’ He smiles fondly at me.
‘I see a lot of you in her actually.’ I automatically bristle at this as he continues, ‘The fact is, she’s just as insecure and scared as the rest of us.
She puts on this front because she’s afraid people will see the real her – and maybe won’t like what they find.
’ He eyeballs me. ‘And you know it! You were starting to warm to her, too, towards the end there. Don’t try and deny it! ’
Salma laughs dryly. ‘And you know what’s funny, Jem?
You chose me as a best friend, and I’m actually really like your sister!
You claim that you’ve wanted to get away from her your whole life, but you picked someone just like her to be in your life every day!
’ She and Salma both look at Buffy for her turn and she shrugs.
‘Don’t look at me,’ she says. ‘I thought Clara seemed like a loser pick me girl.’
I sigh. ‘I know all that. I didn’t mean no, we can’t help her ,’ I explain slowly, ‘I meant, no, this is not a we thing . I have to go get her myself. I have to see my sister and I have to help her get away from this dickwad. And, if it’s at all possible, I have to bring her home – where she belongs. ’
It’s all suddenly so obvious.