When I returned home that evening, I found a letter waiting on the mat that infuriated me. I read it carefully several times then forced myself to wait until the first rush of temper had passed before picking up the phone to call Rebecca.
‘I got your letter,’ I said without any preamble when she answered, trying to control the anger in my voice. ‘Or rather, your solicitor’s letter.’
‘Oh good,’ she said. ‘The sooner we get the ball rolling on this, the better. I was very lucky to get an early hearing. Some couple reconciled so an appointment opened up. Don’t you think these people should stop being so fickle? Anyway, their loss is my gain. I assume you’ll be able to make it?’
I held the phone away from my face for a moment and stared at it furiously, as if the handset were somehow responsible for my sister’s insufferable behaviour.
‘You don’t actually think I’m going to do this, do you?’ I asked.
There was a long pause. I wondered whether she was truly surprised by my response or simply pretending to be. ‘Of course I do,’ she said. ‘Why wouldn’t you?’
‘Let me just read out what your solicitor wrote,’ I said to her. ‘It is our contention that Robert Gelwood lacks the essential skills needed to be a father to the miners, Damien and Edward Gelwood. As you have been a witness to his erratic behaviour since the birth of both children, we are requesting that you testify to his fragile state of mind, his unpredictable temperament and his lack of parental responsibility. We further hope that you will support our position that the children be placed in the sole custody of their mother, Rebecca Camberley-Gelwood.’
‘It’s such legalese, isn’t it?’ said Rebecca, giggling a little. ‘Even you could write better than that.’
‘It’s not the wording that I object to,’ I said. ‘Although, by the way, you might want to tell your solicitor that minors is spelled with an o. As far as I know, Damien and Edward aren’t being sent a few miles underground every day to dig for coal.’
‘Oh, don’t be so pedantic, you know what he meant. Is that all that’s bothering you?’
‘No, it’s the fact that I don’t believe for a moment that Robert is an unfit father.’
‘Of course he isn’t,’ she agreed. ‘Actually, he’s a very good father.’
‘Then why on earth …？’ I paused and pinched the top of my nose to control my annoyance. ‘Seriously, Rebecca, if you think that, then why are you going to court to say otherwise? And why do you want my help?’
‘Because he won’t let me take the children,’ she said.
‘Take them where?’
‘To America.’
‘Why are you going to America? Do you mean on holiday?’
She gave an exasperated laugh, as if she couldn’t quite believe that she had to explain something so obvious to me. ‘No, we’re moving there.’
‘Who’s moving there? And why? And since when?’
‘Oh my God, Edith. So many questions! It’s like having a conversation with Miss Marple. Arjan, the boys and I are all moving there for his television show. To Los Angeles – can you believe it?’
‘Well, that’s good news for him, I suppose,’ I said. ‘But what about the boys? What about their schooling?’
‘They do have schools in America, as far as I understand.’
‘Yes, with metal detectors on every doorway to hold back the shooters.’
‘Oh, don’t exaggerate.’
‘And what about their friends?’
‘They’ll make new friends.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about any of this before?’
‘Sorry, I thought I had. Well, I told Mum, so I assumed she’d pass it on.’
‘Actually, no. This is the first I’m hearing of any of it. What did Mum say?’
‘She was very upset. She started going on about how much she was going to miss the boys growing up and blah, blah, blah. I told her, Mum, there are such things as aeroplanes! You can come and visit whenever you want! Although don’t get me wrong, Edith. I don’t literally mean whenever she wants. We’ll probably be quite busy with a new social circle so please don’t think that either of you can just show up unannounced.’
‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me personally. I’m going to miss the boys too. So will Maurice. You know how fond he is of the children.’
‘Well, you don’t have to worry too much. It’s not for a couple of months yet and there are so many things to be sorted out this end before we even think of booking flights. But, you see, Robert is being a complete pain about the whole thing. He’s refusing to let the boys go and, since we currently have joint custody, I’m not allowed to leave the country with them without his permission.’
‘That’s perfectly reasonable,’ I said. ‘What father would want to be separated from his sons?’
‘He’s so bloody selfish,’ said Rebecca. ‘He always has been. If you ever have children, I hope you’ll think twice before putting Maurice’s name on the birth certificate. It gives men all these rights that you could otherwise keep from them and, let’s face it, when have they ever put us first on anything? Not that that’s really something you’ll need to worry about. You’re career, career, career all the way, aren’t you? We’re so different in that respect. I’ve always had such a deep maternal streak.’
I almost laughed. Not just at the insensitive nature of her remarks – she knew about the miscarriages, after all, or at least about some of them – but at her assumption that our marriage would end in failure, just as hers had.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘You can’t expect me to testify that he’s a bad father when he’s not. I won’t do it.’
‘Why not? I don’t think it’s unreasonable for a person to offer her first loyalty to her sister.’
‘I think, in this situation, my first loyalty should be to the boys. And whether I think they should be separated from a loving and selfless father. What’s their view on this, anyway? I presume they don’t want to leave Robert behind?’
‘Oh no, they’re up in arms,’ she told me. ‘They don’t want to leave England. But that’s neither here nor there. I’m not going to be dictated to by a nine-year-old and a six-year-old.’
‘Edward is seven,’ I pointed out.
‘Oh, shut up, Edith,’ she said. ‘Look, all I need is for you to sit down opposite a judge and say that Robert has a terrible temper, that he’s called the boys a few beastly names and that he’s threatened to hit me on occasion, that sort of thing.’
‘I’m not going to do that!’ I cried.
‘It won’t take more than an hour or so. Then you can get back to your book or your students, or whatever it is you do to fill your days.’
‘Rebecca, I’m not going to lie in court. Especially about something so important. For one thing, it’s perjury. I could go to jail.’
‘Lots of people have written books in jail. Look at Jeffrey Archer.’