Chapter 37
Bronagh and Hilary clutched one another, screaming as the lift went into free fall.
Somehow they managed to stay upright as it dropped three floors before slamming to a halt between the first and second floors.
Neither of them spoke. They simply stood there waiting for their stomachs to return to their rightful place, almost afraid to breathe in case the lift suddenly plunged to the ground floor. That didn't bear thinking about.
When nothing happened after a few interminable minutes, Bronagh slowly disentangled herself from Hilary's koala-like grip and pressed the alarm button.
'Hopefully whatever the problem is will be fixed quickly,' she said with forced brightness.
The lift suddenly seemed very small. The air felt close and she could feel beads of sweat prickling her brow.
Her legs felt as though they might give way at any moment, and she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor with her legs stretched out in front of her.
Then, undoing the top button of her blouse to loosen it around her neck first she shrugged off her coat.
Mobile. Bronagh rummaged through her handbag. She'd ring Maureen and make sure help was on the way. 'I've no signal.' She shoved the phone back into her bag in disgust.
Hilary stared uncertainly at her sister. 'Bronagh, there'll be all sorts of germs on that floor.'
'I don't care. My legs are shaking too badly to stand.' To Bronagh's surprise, Hilary slid down the wall beside her.
'Mine too.'
The brief moment of solidarity that passed between them was short-lived, however, because Hilary immediately launched into a high-pitched tirade about this not being good enough and whoever was responsible for lift maintenance receiving a strongly worded letter.
On and on she went.
The muscle in Bronagh’s jaw twitched. 'That's not helping, Hilary.'
'It's helping me. Heads will roll. Watch this space.'
Bronagh cocked her head. 'Shush. I heard something.'
'Hello? I'm from Security. Can you hear me?'
A man's muffled voice drifted up through the lift shaft.
'Yes!' Bronagh shouted, carefully crawling over to the doors.
'Get us out of here now!' Hilary's voice was shrill.
'How many of you are in there?'
'Two. Me and my sister,' Bronagh called back.
'Okay. Stay where you are.'
'Where does the eejit think we're going to go?' Bronagh muttered.
'How long before you get us out of here?' Hilary hollered.
'It's important that you stay calm.'
'I'll give you calm,' Bronagh muttered through gritted teeth. They were trapped inside a tiny metal box at the mercy of a set of dodgy lift cables. Easy for him to say.
'I'm going to ring the lift engineer, but in the meantime don't try to force the doors.'
Silence fell.
'Okay, so he's gone to get help. We'll be out of here in no time,' Bronagh said.
‘Well, he can expect a letter too,’ Hilary started up again.
She was like a lawnmower on a Sunday morning when you were trying to have a lie-in, Bronagh thought, rubbing her temples. The heat, the perfume, the closeness. It was suddenly all too much.
‘Oh, bloody well shut up, Hilary! We've just had a near-death experience and you're blathering on about writing letters.’
She was almost as taken aback by her own outburst as Hilary.
‘Don't talk to me like that.’
Being scared out of her wits, with no control over the situation she found herself in, saw something unfurl inside Bronagh. ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up! There. I've wanted to say that to you for a very long time.’
‘Well, I—’ Hilary spluttered. For once, she was completely lost for words. Not for long. ‘If you think I'm going to be your matron of honour after speaking to me like that, you've got another thing coming.’
‘It wasn't my choice to have you in the first place—or Erin as a bridesmaid, who I barely know, by the way. It was Mam who insisted.’
‘And why do you think you barely know Erin?’
There was something in Hilary's sarcastic tone that finally saw Bronagh pull her finger from the dam.
The flood of resentment burst free. ‘I'll tell you why.
Because you always thought you were better than us.
You, with your solicitor husband and your big house by the sea.
And your cleaning lady, and your gardener, and don't even get me started on that ridiculous posh voice of yours.
Just look at the way you turn your nose up every time you deign to make one of your rare visits home.
Poor Mam. I've watched her grovel around you for years, silently apologising for not being enough, or having enough for Madam Hilary. And as for your constant sniping and belittling of me, well—’
Hilary cut across her. ‘Oh, there she is. Bronagh the Martyr. Is it any wonder I barely visit when you're always so quick to remind me you were the one who stayed home to look after Mam?’
‘One of us had to.’
‘And you've never let me forget it.’
The lift creaked. Both women instantly fell silent, suddenly aware once more of the precarious situation they were in.
Perhaps it was that reminder of their own mortality that prompted Hilary to speak again.
‘I asked Mam to come and live with George and me when we got married.
We said we'd build an annexe for her—a granny flat, I suppose you'd call it—but she wouldn't come.
She chose to stay with you because, she said, you needed her.
She wouldn't leave you on your own in Dublin.’
Bronagh stared at her. She was completely flummoxed. ‘Mam never told me that.’
‘Well, she wouldn't, would she?’
Everything Bronagh thought she knew about the past suddenly shifted. ‘You never told me either. Why not?’
‘What was the point? You were always the favourite. Her decision only cemented that for me. She changed her mind when you met Kevin, but I told her it wouldn't work.'
‘Why?’
‘Because she’d made her choice Bronagh.’
Bronagh could hear the naked hurt in her sister’s voice. ‘I wasn’t the favourite Hilary. You were. Look at the way Mam falls all over herself whenever you're around.’
‘She doesn't.’
‘She flippin' well does. It makes me sick.’
Hilary gave a weary shake of her head. ‘That's not how I see it.
Whenever I ring, it's always Bronagh this and Bronagh that.
I was the changeling in the family. I never quite fitted because I wanted something different from you and Mam.
And how do you think it made me feel when she'd happily trot off to your grand new house with you and Lenny, but wouldn't even consider living with George, and me when I first offered?’
Bronagh wasn't sure what to say to that. For the first time in years, she found herself on the back foot. She'd also noticed Hilary's plummy voice had disappeared. When she finally spoke, her own voice was quiet. ‘I thought you looked down your nose at me.’
‘I did.’ Hilary gave a tiny shrug. ‘I don't mean that.' She sighed. 'Actually, I suppose I did. But only because I always thought you looked down your nose at me for not being content with my lot like you and Mam.’
‘What was wrong with our lot? Why was it never enough?’
Hilary shrugged again. ‘I'm older than you. I saw how hard Daddy worked and how Mam was always robbing Peter to pay Paul. I heard their constant arguments about money and I hated it, Bronagh. Everything was a grind and a struggle for them, and I didn't want my life to be like that.’
How had she never realised any of that? Then Bronagh remembered the Big House game. Had that been Hilary's way of escaping everything she'd just described?
She couldn’t shake the hurt she’d heard in her sister's voice over what she'd seen as rejection when their mam refused to move to Tramore with her and George.
Mam had said she need her more. Had she?
From Myrna's point of view, it probably had looked that way.
Yet, with Mam's illness, Bronagh had always believed it was the other way around.
She wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand.
If only Hilary had spoken about how she'd felt.
Then again the same could be said for her.
Perhaps their inability to express their feelings properly was something else, along with stubbornness, they'd inherited from their mam.
The words they'd spoken seemed to linger in the close air trapped inside the lift with them.
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Only the truth remained.
‘Do you think this is God's way of bringing us back together?’ Bronagh asked quietly after a while.
Hilary gave a rueful smile. ‘I'd rather He'd chosen a different way, if that's the case.’
Bronagh laughed softly. ‘Me too.’
Hilary looked across at her. ‘I'm sorry, Bronagh.’
‘I'm sorry too.’
‘I really would like things to be different.’
Bronagh nodded. ‘So would I.’
‘Do you think they can be?’
‘If we both try to be kinder to each other, yes.’
Hilary smiled. ‘Shall we try then?’
‘Yes, please.’
Silence settled between them once more before Hilary suddenly said, ‘I think we should do thumbs together to make it official. Like we used to.’
Bronagh's face softened. ‘I'd forgotten about that.’ She'd forgotten about a great many things. As children, they had always sealed a promise by pressing their thumbs together.
Hilary held up her thumb. Bronagh did the same. Their thumbs met. Together they closed their eyes, just as they had all those years ago.
It was the strangest feeling, Bronagh thought as the years seemed to melt away until, for a fleeting moment, they were little girls again and her big sister was her whole world. ‘I love you, Hilary.’ She always had. She'd simply buried it beneath years of misunderstanding and resentment.
‘I love you too, Bronagh.’ Hilary paused. ‘But I'm still writing a letter to your lift man.’
Bronagh opened her eyes and caught Hilary grinning. For just a second she saw the little girl who had loved playing the lady of the manor in Big House.
‘Hello in there! I'm the lift engineer. I'll have you out of there in no time.’
‘You'll still be getting a letter from me!’ Bronagh bellowed.
Then she and Hilary collapsed against one another in helpless laughter.
Outside the lift, the engineer looked at the security guard. ‘I think they're getting delirious. I'll get them out as quickly as I can.’
Behind them, a small crowd of curious shoppers had gathered. The little woman who kept insisting she was friends with one of the women trapped inside and demanding constant updates was proving especially difficult to keep back.
There was a mechanical whirr. Bronagh and Hilary stood up as the lift shuddered gently before beginning a smooth descent to the ground floor.
A solid clunk sounded as the locking mechanism disengaged.
The doors slid open and the sisters stepped out into the brightly lit department store to spontaneous applause.
Looking at one another, they instinctively raised their clasped hands in triumph.