She heard the upstairs floorboards creak. Aidan’s room was directly above hers, but she was sure he’d be fast asleep by now. He had an early shift tomorrow, according to the Post-it notes stuck on the fridge. It sounded as if he was pacing his room, frantic. She’d lived in the ground-floor bedroom long enough to work out what every creak meant. Usually, it was the ones from Leilah’s room that she was most attuned to. She sneaked out of her bedroom, leaving the book face down on her bed, and wandered upstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. She didn’t want to be the one to wake Leilah up. She stood outside his bedroom door. She put one hand out, ready to knock, but she could hear the pacing clearly now, as well as a soft, choked sobbing. Her heart crashed to the pit of her stomach. Part of her wanted to rush in, envelop her brother in a hug. But the other part of her, the cowardly part, told her that he’d hate that, that he’d just want to be left alone. She let that second part win, and she tiptoed back down the stairs.
She shut the door to her room. She tried shoving her headphones in, forcing herself to listen to her music, to forget about her brother, but it was futile. Her mind was still on him.
She opened up Pride and Prejudice once more, wishing for some connection to the old school characters, their frills and dresses, even wishing Zac would pop up in his period outfit and whisk her imagination away, but her mind was still with Aidan, in his room. She shut the book with force and dumped it back beside her bed. It didn’t matter what she did, her house had become Manderley again, with ghosts creeping in the corners. She squeezed her eyes shut, the darkness swirling behind her eyes.
‘Hey, Leish.’ Her brother’s head popped round her bedroom door the next morning. The light was shining through the curtains already, but she could tell from the stillness of the house that it was early. She grumbled in response, rubbing her eyes awake.
‘I’ve swapped some shifts around so I’m working today but will be back home tonight,’ he paused. ‘So I’ll be here in time for you to go out. You know – for your barbecue.’ Aleisha desperately searched her brother’s face for stress, tension. But she only saw a brightness; his eyes had a twinkle to them, as if he was plotting something. It was the face he used to make when he was a child, planning to make her a mud pie in the garden for her birthday, or when he’d put clingfilm over the toilet seat … and then planted the clingfilm box in Aleisha’s room for Dean to find. She wondered how last night, whatever had been going on with him, was already forgotten this morning. Had she dreamt it all?
‘Aidan, all okay with you? Do you—’
‘Yeah good!’ he cut in. ‘So that barbecue, the one Mia mentioned. You should go, get out of here and enjoy the last few weeks of summer.’
‘No,’ Aleisha laughed, hollow, ‘I’m not going. I’ll stay here. I mean, you’ve not had a night off in ages.’ Aleisha swung her legs over the bed, sliding her feet into slippers. ‘We could chill.’
‘No, you’re going. I haven’t seen you hanging out with your mates for weeks. Mum and me think it’ll be good for you.’
‘You told Mum?’
‘Yeah.’
There it was again. Aidan and Leilah: the joint parental unit, dictating how Aleisha should live her life. It made her laugh how she was a child when they wanted her to be one, yet when Leilah needed her to be a grown-up, there was no room for Aleisha to even be a teenager.
‘Promise me you’ll think about it?’ Aidan asked, putting his little finger up in the air.
‘I promise,’ Aleisha grunted, watching his face for a momentary lapse, for anything. Aidan waggled his little finger so only his face and his hand were visible, the rest of his body was tucked behind the door. ‘Yeah, I promise!’ Aleisha snapped, waggling her little finger back.
‘Great. See you later. I’ve left some reminders on the fridge too.’
She observed Aidan’s every move as he marched off with his usual energy. She shook her mind free of the image, the story, she’d invented last night, the scene she’d pictured through his bedroom door.
If Aidan hadn’t made a special effort and swapped shifts just so she could go out, she would have been typing her excuse on WhatsApp right now. Saying she was sick. Feeling nauseous. Migraine. But his Post-it notes on the fridge saying Go out and Have fun and I’ll be here, so you don’t have to be made her feel guilty. So here she was, putting on shorts and a top she only really wore on nights out. She put her ‘going out’ pack of cigarettes in her back pocket. Her mum and Aidan didn’t know about those.