The Woman Who Lied(92)

I first met Kyle four years ago. Alice had introduced him to me and Aaron over sushi in some swanky Covent Garden restaurant and when he stood up to shake my hand it had felt like the breath had been knocked out of me. He was like a Greek God. A Greek God in trendy jeans and an expensive Tom Ford shirt. I could actually see the muscles rippling through the fabric. I had been speechless, actually speechless, for a few seconds until Aaron prodded me in the ribs. Three months later Alice married him in a Las Vegas ceremony while on holiday without any of her friends or family in attendance – something Mum has never quite forgiven her for.

I watch from the window as Aaron gets behind the wheel, Kyle leaning in to show him the gadgets. I can’t help but cringe at this excessive token of wealth on our modest street. What will the neighbours think? I’ll have to tell Alice to make sure the car is parked around the back by the garages so that it’s out of sight. Last week Mike from Number 42 had his Alfa Romeo stolen. It was found a week later burnt out near the woods.

I take a deep breath and leave the room just in time to see Alice walking into the hallway. ‘There you are!’ she exclaims and trots towards me in her high heels, pulling me into her arms and engulfing me in a cloud of perfume. Then she stands back, still holding onto me so that I’m at arm’s length, assessing me, and I immediately feel underdressed in my old Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and ripped jeans. I always am compared to Alice. ‘You look great. It’s been too long.’ It’s been nearly six months.

I want to say, ‘Well if you didn’t spend all your time galivanting around the globe,’ but I don’t as it would sound churlish and I don’t want to ruin this moment. Despite our differences, Alice and I have always been close. Less so since Kyle came on the scene, but that’s only because their lives are so busy we don’t get the chance to spend so much time together. ‘It’s lovely to see you. I love your jumpsuit,’ I say instead.

‘Bella Freud,’ she replies and I nod, pretending I know who she’s talking about. She follows me down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house and sits at the wooden table encrusted with dried paint courtesy of the twins.

‘Tea?’

‘Oh yes please. I’m parched. So, where’s Elsie Else and the Flossmyster? I’m desperate to see them.’ She’s always got special names for everyone, as though we are DJs or in a metal band. I was The Tashatron for years.

I click the kettle on. ‘Viv took them to the park this morning.’ I don’t say it was so I could thoroughly clean the house. ‘They’ll be back in a bit.’

‘I bet they’ve grown loads.’ Alice has always been great with them, although she’s adamant she doesn’t want any of her own. ‘I’ve missed the little munchkins. I bought them a gift.’ Alice’s gifts are always too expensive, purchased at posh little Hampstead boutiques and handed over in fancy gift bags and trussed up in tissue paper. ‘Kyle will bring them in from the car.’

I make her a strong cup of tea and place it on the table in front of her.

‘So,’ she says, as I pull out the chair opposite and sit down. ‘Are you excited?’

‘Excited?’

‘For Venice! We were at the apartment last week and it is such a lovely time of year to go. Quieter than August, but the weather still great … mostly! And the views. So romantic.’

Alice and Kyle bought the apartment last year to add to their portfolio: a huge double-fronted townhouse in London, a cottage in Cornwall which they rent out, and a ski lodge in Austria.

‘Um … yes, of course …’ I try to inject enthusiasm into my voice but Alice is far from stupid. And she knows me too well.

‘You don’t need to worry about the twins. Kyle and I will take excellent care of them. He’s great with his sister’s boys. And we have Viv down the road if there’s any problems. Which,’ she reaches out and brushes my fingers, ‘there won’t be!’ The implication being if Alice can hold down a job as a scientist at a top research facility then she can look after two little girls.

I swallow down my anxiety. ‘I’ve put the schedule on the fridge. What time nursery starts, what time to pick them up, I’ve got some meals I’ve already made in the freezer …’ I trail off at the look on my sister’s face. ‘What?’

‘Stop worrying. I won’t let them out of my sight.’

My eyes well up and it’s there, suspended in the air between us, always unvoiced but ever present. Our Family Tragedy. I blink away the tears, embarrassed. ‘You promise,’ I say, my voice sounding small.

Alice squeezes my hand. ‘On my life.’

I believe her and my anxiety ebbs away a little. I know really that the twins will be safe with Alice. She’s the only person that truly understands. I often wonder if the real reason my sister has never wanted children of her own is because of Holly.

Just then, Aaron strides into the kitchen closely followed by Kyle who’s clutching two pink gift bags, still talking about cars and mileage and top speeds. Alice releases my hand as Kyle squeezes in on the bench seat next to her and she smiles up at him as he tenderly cups her chin and reaches for her thigh under the table. They are always touching. Even in public their fingers find each other, or they sit so close their legs are pressed together. ‘You can tell they haven’t been married long,’ Aaron had said in the taxi back to the hotel the last time we’d met up, back in March and there was a bitterness to his tone, something accusatory, and I’d instigated sex that night as a way of proving to myself, and him, that things between us haven’t gone stale. That we could still be spontaneous and sexy.