Jamie never minded that.’
‘I wish Daddy wasn’t so loud. He makes Mummy cry when he tells her off. She thinks I don’t see her, but I know that she cries. Her face gets very white and her nose goes all red.’
It was one of those horrible moments when Mia hated that she was the grown-up and she would have to pick her way carefully through the minefield the conversation with her nephew had become. ‘Is Daddy loud a lot, Matty? Is he loud at you and Charlie or just Mummy?’ Mia clamped down on her anger, determined to let this poor little boy have a safe place to voice his worries and fears.
‘He gets loud if I’ve done something wrong, like if I don’t get top marks in a test or if I make too much noise when he is trying to work. He doesn’t like it if Charlie cries and he blames Mummy for not looking after her properly. I don’t get things wrong as often as Mummy does. She’s stupid. I don’t think she is stupid—she always helps me with my homework—but Daddy says she is stupid. That’s what he calls her, like it’s her name.’
Mia swallowed hard against the bile that suddenly burned in the back of her throat. She felt physically sick at the images that her nephew was painting of his life at home. He was only seven years old and already being damaged by Neil’s abhorrent behaviour. She placed her hand on the back of Matty’s head and urged him to settle back down against her. She stroked his soft, sweet hair lightly and tried not to let him see how angry she was.
‘Don’t worry about anything, sweet boy. I’m going to help your mummy tomorrow.’
Matty sighed and snuggled closer. Mia muttered under her breath: ‘And if your daddy thinks I’m a hairy dean, he ain’t seen nothing yet.’
Mia raised her hand to her sister’s front door, hesitated then knocked harder than she’d originally intended. There was nothing about today that she was looking forward to but delaying the inevitable was pointless. The door swung open and Mia flinched at her sister’s pale, pasty face. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen and her waist-length hair trailed lank and greasy down her back. Kiki attempted a watery smile, which got stuck somewhere along the way, and Mia stepped around her and inside the house, pushing the door gently shut before she gathered Kiki into her arms.
Kiki seemed to lose all ability to hold herself up as she melted into Mia’s arms, leaving her no choice but to lower them both to the floor. Kiki buried her head in Mia’s lap and sobbed. The wracking shudders of her body shattered Mia’s heart as she bent low over her sister’s head and stroked her back. She whispered quietly to Kiki, told her how much she loved her, how sorry she was that she had left her alone, that it would be okay now. In the end that was all she could repeat over and over: ‘It’ll be okay, now.’
The storm passed as quickly as a summer squall and Kiki soon quieted. Mia continued to soothe and stroke her sister until she finally raised her head and loosed an undignified sniff, which made them both giggle weakly. Mia pressed her forehead to Kiki’s and drew a deep breath. She’d always believed it was better to lance a wound than leave it to fester and she had a feeling these would not be the last of her sister’s tears that day.
She pulled back to clasp her sister’s face and stare into her eyes. ‘All right for a minute? Let’s get the kettle on and work out what needs to be done today.’
Kiki tried to draw a settling breath, coughed and made a second, better attempt. She nodded and pushed herself to her feet, clasping Mia’s hand and drawing her up. Kiki kept hold of her hand as they entered the kitchen and she sank into the nearest chair, as though that small effort had overwhelmed her again.
Mia patted her hand before freeing her own and bustling around the kitchen, putting on the kettle and brewing them both an industrial-strength cup of tea. There were days when Mia wished she had developed a taste for coffee but she had never accustomed her palate to the bitter brew. She plunked the cups down on the table and drew her notepad and a pen from the depths of her shoulder bag. She pushed one of the mugs up against Kiki’s fingers until she wrapped them around the hot mug and then nodded once.
‘Okay, let’s get started…’
‘The kids?’
‘They are okay. We had a sleepover in my bed and they are fine. Bill and Pat have taken them to the wildlife park and will keep them for the rest of the weekend.’ Mia raised her hand when Kiki sought to protest and her words died on her lips. ‘Matty and Charlie will stay with them for the rest of the weekend. The kids need some downtime too, Kiki. You need to pull yourself together before you see them again. Matty is worried sick about you. Charlie is confused but hopefully too young to understand what’s going on.’
Mia took a mouthful of hot tea and relished the burn as she pressed on. ‘Matty tells me that Neil has a nickname for you.’ Kiki flinched and Mia shook her head as her worst fears were realised. ‘Your husband calls you Stupid. In front of the children. And you let him.’ She paused between each statement, feeling awful at witnessing her sister’s pain but determined to have everything out in the open.
Kiki didn’t speak. She just kept her eyes lowered to the mug of tea in front of her and Mia wanted to shake her. How had she allowed herself to become so beaten down, so cowed by life? Even in the depths of her grief over Jamie’s death there had been an indomitable part of Mia’s spirit that had driven her forwards.
Kiki seemed to have no spark, no sense of purpose left, and it made Mia furious to behold it. She couldn’t honestly say whether her anger was aimed at her sister or Neil. Both probably, and her parents too for being such useless role models when they were growing up.
Kiki had always been the softest of them, the sweetest of hearts and therefore so easily damaged. Their mother took full advantage of it when they were older, pleading with Kiki to help her ease the pain of whatever non-existent ailment she was claiming. Just a little nip, just a small shot to help her sleep, and Kiki couldn’t refuse. She couldn’t or wouldn’t see the manipulative gleam in Vivian’s eye when she got her way and Kiki snuck her a drink.
Mia had tried to persuade her father to remove the alcohol from the house but he refused to acknowledge the problem, hiding from the truth in his study. Bloody coward. An unexpected wave of anger swamped her. If George had only stood up to Vivian, things might have been different.
Kiki had been prime fodder for the likes of Neil. A few years older, originally a protégé of their father’s, he had paid small flattering attentions to Kiki. A CD he thought she would enjoy, a ragged posy of flowers. All he could afford so he claimed and Kiki had swallowed every sweet thing that he said, desperate for affection and validation. Neil had seemed harmless enough at first and Mia had not discouraged his attentions towards her sister, as it was just a relief to see her smile and blossom a little.
Kiki was the prettiest of the three of them—it did no harm to Mia’s ego to acknowledge it. But Kiki had never been able to see it for herself. Her modesty and shyness had drawn Neil, who lapped it up every time Kiki looked at him with such devotion. Her desperation fed his ego and before anyone knew what was happening, the couple were away to the registry office and married.
Jamie had courted Mia whilst they were still at school and Mia had been too caught up in her own happiness to recognise that all was not well in her sister’s marriage until it was too late. Kiki was pregnant and Neil was furious at the extra expense on his modest salary. He had made it clear that he blamed Kiki for the problem.
After the baby had been born, Kiki had revelled in motherhood, finally able to connect with a being who would love her unconditionally and who she could love equally in return without fear of reprisal.
Neil,
