to get everything in the house straight? How difficult was it to make sure that there was a meal waiting for Neil when he got home? Why hadn’t she noticed that his suit needed dry-cleaning when he had an important meeting?
The more he undermined her, the more useless Kiki felt, and the last shreds of her confidence deserted her. Whilst Mia could understand and rationalise how things had ended up so bad, it was time to put a stop to it now that the children were starting to be affected by Neil’s behaviour. She would not allow history to continue repeating itself and she was damned if she would let Kiki be the victim any longer.
‘So I assume Neil has issued an edict on the food for tonight. Do you have everything we need or do I need to make a shopping list?’ Mia kept her voice brisk. There was too much to get sorted out so she would not press Kiki too hard for the minute.
Kiki didn’t speak, just continued to stare into her tea and Mia scrubbed at her hair to give her hands something to do other than reach across the table and shake her sister until she rattled. ‘Kiki!’ Her sister flinched so hard she spilled her tea across her hand and Mia grabbed a cloth to mop it up. ‘What’s wrong with you, darling? You’re like a zombie. I need you to focus for me, just for a little while. Can you do that? Can you help me so that I can help you?’
Mia held her sister’s face and forced her to meet her gaze, the naked pain she saw there was heartbreaking but she pressed on. ‘I need you with me, Kiki Dee. Okay?’
Her sister raised her hands to cover Mia’s and she nodded slightly. ‘Okay. Sorry, I’m okay, I’m okay.’ Perhaps if she said it enough times she might even begin to believe it. ‘I’ve got everything we need for the meal tonight. It’s all in Dad’s fridge already. I have a key so I was going to go over there this morning and prepare everything.’
Mia held her sigh of relief in as Kiki started to sound a little more with it and they reviewed the menu for the dinner party. Nothing too difficult or controversial, thank goodness. After a few protestations from Kiki, Mia persuaded her to go back to bed and sleep for a few hours whilst she would go to their parents’ house and get everything ready.
She would also make time to call into the hospital and see their mother in the hope she would be a little more present. She accompanied her sister upstairs to make sure she had an outfit selected for that evening and laid out the clothes on Matty’s bed. She wanted to give Kiki every chance to rest and gather herself together as it would be a difficult evening with her husband watching for any opportunity to pick fault.
Mia had already decided she would stay and serve the meal. It wouldn’t be much fun, but Kiki could focus on being a guest and not panic about the hosting. If anything went wrong then Neil could blame Mia, if he damn-well dared.
She pulled the hire car into the driveway and sat for a moment, staring at the familiar red-brick structure. The woodwork and garage had been painted since she was last there and they were now a bright white. The garden was immaculate but lacking in any kind of personality. Neatly weeded flower beds nestled on either side of a dark and light striped lawn. It looked like Centre Court at Wimbledon and Mia was filled with longing for the wild, untamed sprawl of the gardens of Butterfly Cove.
Her hands ached and she looked down to see her knuckles had turned white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Forcing her fingers to uncurl, she grabbed her bag and burst from the car in a sudden fit of motion. Sitting and dwelling would only give the ghosts of her past the chance to rise and haunt her. Keep moving. Keep active. That was the motto; that was the mantra that would get her through.
She wiped her feet on the external mat as she turned the key in the well-oiled lock. She wiped them again on the inside mat before toeing them off and placing them neatly against the skirting board. The ingrained habit gnawed at her belly and the devil on her shoulder wanted her to stomp through the flower beds and traipse dirt along the length of the beige hallway. The devil on her shoulder was a childish little shit sometimes and she would not give in to his suggestions.
The walls were the same off-white as before, bare except for a few impersonal generic prints that were available at any department store. Nothing that reflected the personality of the inhabitants, or perhaps the blankness was a perfect reflection. No family photos rioted across the walls as they did in Bill and Pat’s home, no stray coats or scarves lurked, escapees of the under-stairs cupboard. A place for everything and everything in its place. The strictures of her childhood came back full force.
With a little nod to the devil, Mia flung her coat over the bannister and dropped her bag untidily at the foot of the stairs. A minor rebellion, but one she could not resist. She drew in a breath and absorbed the scents of her past—furniture polish, a faint trace of her mother’s perfume and the slight musty trace of the books lining the walls of her father’s study. The door to the study stood ajar and Mia paused on the threshold. Her hand rested on the door as she contemplated pushing it wider and entering the inner sanctum that had always been off limits.
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