Chapter Ashleigh Brett and Remy Aller 1983 Aged 21 #3
It had been a huge shock to find out her sister was pregnant, an even bigger one to hear that she had – one lunchtime, her manner almost furtive, the news spilled from her narrowed mouth, eyes downcast – married the absolute dipstick that was Jamie Aller.
Ashleigh recalled the first time she’d met him, right here in this kitchen.
He was good-looking, if short men with big muscles, deep tans, floppy hair, and white teeth that were constantly masticating gum, was your thing.
It certainly wasn’t her thing, and she would, up until that point, have sworn that it wasn’t Remy’s either.
‘Two of you!’ He’d pointed at them with his index fingers, his expression one of perplexity.
‘Yup!’ Her grin had been deliberately brief and insincere; she wanted him to know she thought he was a dipstick, could never entertain ending up with someone who wasn’t her intellectual equal.
‘How does that happen then?’
‘Well, essentially there are monozygotic and dizygotic twins. One known as identical, the other as fraternal; we are of the monozygotic variety. One egg, one sperm that split in two . . .’ Ashleigh had looked at Archie, showing off, which she knew was mean, but who the hell was this meathead her sister had hooked up with?
It was infuriating and frustrating to see her stoop to this level, and it was nothing to do with money or class or status, nothing like that, but rather the fact that he was clearly a dunce.
A handsome dunce, but a dunce nonetheless.
And Remy was smart! So smart! But, like anyone else, would only properly thrive, only grow, with the right mental sparring partner.
She couldn’t stand the thought of it, Remy settling for this, as if he had trapped her when she was low .
. . She wanted more for her sister, so much more.
‘I suppose Mum called you.’ Remy lobbed teabags into the old brown earthenware teapot that had been hanging around the kitchen for donkey’s years.
‘She did, yes. She’s worried about you.’
‘I’m worried about me.’ Remy gave a wry smile.
‘What happened?’ Ashleigh took a seat at the kitchen table, thankful her mum was aware enough to give them this time alone.
‘Not sure how far to go back.’ Her sister abandoned the tea making and took the seat opposite her. Ashleigh noticed her grey, baggy T-shirt with a food stain on the front.
‘As far as you need to. You’ve kind of dropped off the radar, I hardly ever hear from you.’ She swallowed the emotion that threatened.
‘And I hardly hear from you.’
Touché.
To speak of their distance out loud was like peeling off a plaster, and she didn’t necessarily want either of them to have to face what lurked beneath. It felt a little shameful, the lack of contact, the ebbing of the closeness that had always been their foundation, until it wasn’t.
‘It’s felt easier to just’ – Remy looked skyward as if searching for the words, and she understood, knowing it was indeed easier to just – ‘deal with it all on my own.’ Remy rubbed her face in the way she did when she was tired.
‘Deal with what? Tell me.’ Ashleigh reached across the tabletop and took her sister’s hands into her own. The same hands. One egg . . . split in two . . .
‘Since the thing with Tony, I haven’t been myself.’ Remy spoke softly.
‘That’s understandable, it was terrible.’ Just to remember that night, the phone call, the fear leaping in her throat at all the awful possibilities.
‘It was.’ Her sister freed her hands and ran her fingers through her short hair.
‘Jamie was like, I don’t know how to phrase it, a staging post, a place to rest. It was like I was made of sand and a big, powerful wave had come along and flattened me and he scooped me up and saved me for a bit, or at least I thought he had. ’
Ashleigh bit her lip, not wanting to add her less than favourable commentary, staying silent to enable Remy to talk and to talk openly.
‘I was able to forget about what happened when I was with him, because we were either sloshed or laughing. He made me feel safe, physically safe. I knew if I was walking around with him then no one was going to hurt me.’
‘Oh, little dove.’ The admission of her sister’s state of fear was enough for her to feel the sting of tears at the back of her nose and throat.
‘I didn’t really mind where we lived, what we did or didn’t have, none of it.
And then getting pregnant, well,’ – Remy took a deep breath – ‘it felt like a sign. I didn’t exactly have a plan.
It was as if the universe was telling me this was how to lead my life; I was going to be a wife and mother and I was certain I could make a go of it. ’
‘But?’
‘But Jamie was bored, I could tell. Not his fault, not really, he’s just not, not ready. And he’s not, erm . . .’
‘Not for you?’ She finished the sentence.
‘Apparently not.’ Remy let this trail. ‘He went out most nights with his mates, like he always had, and I’m certain he was sleeping around. Which, funnily enough, meant I didn’t want to sleep with him at all. It was the opposite of making me feel secure.’
‘God.’ Ashleigh could barely hide her disgust. How dare he?
‘Actually, that wasn’t the worst thing. It was the lies; telling me he’d be home in an hour and then coming back after six hours.
Saying he would eat, so I’d cook, then announcing he’d already eaten.
Staring at me as if I was mad when I suggested he had been with other women, when I could see it, could sense it.
’ She swallowed. ‘And then, a couple of days ago, I just, I had enough. I felt like I was losing my mind. He was making me crazy! And being holed up in the flat with Sophie and no one to talk to. Arguing round and round in circles, never getting anywhere. Worrying about Tony, not seeing you, Jamie being a shit, it all just . . .’ – she paused – ‘I’m so tired. ’
‘Oh, Rem!’
‘So here I am, and I’m not sure what comes next, but I’ll figure it out.’ She sat up straight.
‘Of course you will! You are the smartest, the most beautiful, you will figure it out, and I know that it must feel like you’ve veered off course right now—’
‘Just a bit.’
‘But it won’t always feel that way. I promise.
’ She hoped this wasn’t a lie. ‘We need to keep in closer contact. I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re holed up with no one to talk to, not ever.
I’m always there for you. Or I want to be.
’ This she added, aware of how little they had seen of each other.
‘Thanks.’ Remy held her eyeline. ‘It’s tricky, though, isn’t it, when you’re in London and doing so much and are busy. I don’t feel like I want to disturb you, and I don’t feel like, like you get it a lot of the time.’
It was an accusation that stung, partly because there was truth in it. Ashleigh was always so busy and didn’t really get it, but this was not the time to defend her position. Remy was raw, vulnerable and any discourse could wait.
‘I want to get it. I do. You need to tell me, and you are never disturbing me. You’re my twin sister.’
On cue, the sound of sweet murmuring came from the baby monitor.
‘I’ll go grab her.’ Remy left the table, and Ashleigh poured the hot water into the teapot, letting the bags steep.
Her sister returned not minutes later, and she was smiling. Her face momentarily one she recognised. With her baby girl in her arms, gone was the hardened frown of unhappiness, the clenched jaw of dissatisfaction, even the heavy eyelids of fatigue. All of it gone, for a few seconds.
‘There she is!’ Reaching out, Ashleigh scooped Sophie into her arms. To feel the trusting weight of her was something quite beautiful. ‘Hello, cutie! Hello, littlest dove!’
‘Don’t drop her,’ Remy instructed as she grabbed a baby bottle from the cumbersome sterilising unit that took up a large chunk of her parents’ countertop.
‘I won’t drop her! God, give me some credit!
’ She stared at the face of her baby niece and felt the tug of love.
She and Archie had spoken about kids, of course they had, and both agreed that it would happen, or not, when the time was right; they were far too busy being busy and having fun to consider it yet, and while she might not have said it outright, she would be just as happy if it was ‘not’, unsure if she’d be any good at it.
Another paper cut of self-doubt that came as a result of living and feeling like a fraud.
‘How long are you staying?’
‘Bloody hell, Rem, I’ve only just got here!’
‘I was just thinking about the sleeping arrangements, that’s all. Archie not coming?’
‘No, he’s got a work thing. Hector, his boss, is a nightmare, working him into the ground. He’s actually a friend of Dickie’s, and so Archie can hardly complain, poor love.’
‘Yes, poor love.’
Ashleigh didn’t like her sister’s tone but reminded herself again that Remy was having a hard time right now; the sole reason for her return home.
‘And what about you, Ash? You’ve heard the delights of my life right now, what about you? How’s things in the big smoke?’
‘Well, you remember Guy Gallow, my uni mate?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re thinking of going into business together.’
‘I thought you liked your job, getting to nose in all those pricey houses around town?’
‘I do, but I’d like it a whole lot more if we had our very own estate agency.
We’ve looked at the numbers and we think we can do it.
A small loan from the bank, guaranteed by Guy’s mother, cheap premises to start with, no other staff, no wages, but luckily Archie has said he’ll look after everything at home, financially, until I’m on my feet.
’ She felt the swell of pride in her stomach, a rare thing for a girl who had always felt like an imposter, but school was over, this was the real world, and she was sure she could make her mark.
‘It sounds fancy.’ Remy smiled at her.
‘It would be fancy.’
‘Come to your nana!’ Ruthie marched into the kitchen and reached for Sophie.
‘I’ve only just got her!’ Ashleigh pulled the baby towards her.
‘We never had this problem. There was always two of you to hold, to feed, to sit with. Everyone got their fair share.’
‘I can’t imagine having two, Mum. Looking after one is hard enough.’ Remy beamed again at her little girl.
‘It gets easier, love.’ Her mum smiled and ran her fingers over her granddaughter’s head. ‘She’s not got your curly hair.’
‘Lucky thing!’ Ashleigh laughed, having never made a secret of her preference for more manageable locks. ‘You don’t regret cutting yours?’ She was curious, the first time she’d ever seen her sister with hair this short.
‘Not really. It’s easier with her.’
She was confused. ‘I don’t get it. Why does having a baby mean it’s easier to have short hair? I don’t follow!’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ Remy rolled her eyes and Ruthie laughed, leaving her feeling left out. ‘But there are days when I don’t even get to piss without holding her on my lap, I don’t have time to shower, and so it felt easier to have short dirty hair than long dirty hair.’
‘That’s . . .’ She was gobsmacked.
‘What, Ash? What is it?’ Remy stared at her.
‘Gross!’
‘Yes, love, that’s definitely been the grossest thing about giving birth and becoming a mother, having to cut my hair short!’
Ashleigh watched as she and Ruthie laughed again, as if in on the joke that again left her feeling like an outsider.
It was a moment of realisation that no matter how much she loved her sister, her parents, and coming home, Archie Oxton Fitch was her life now, her future, her other half.
She looked at the clock on the wall and decided to give him a call in a bit, knowing just the sound of his voice, the man she trusted never to lie to her, never to make her crazy, would make everything feel just a little bit better.