The Stepmother(103)
And of course Scarlett’s not answered my texts. When I called her earlier, the response from my iPhone made me wonder if my number’s been blocked from her end.
On my hands and knees, pulling out old Disney and Harry Potter films, SpongeBob SquarePants and some Aston Villa highlights, I hear someone running overhead – I’m sure I do.
I start up – and then someone raps hard on the window, and I bang my head as I try to stand.
A red-haired woman is on the other side of the glass, staring at me, hands on hips as I rub my sore head.
‘And who the hell, may I ask’—the redhead raises her voice fiercely—‘are you?’
* * *
So. This is Alison, the woman Jeanie wasn’t sure about.
‘I’m a key holder,’ she explains on the doorstep. ‘The alarm company inform me if it goes off. I only live a few streets away, so I can check it out.’
My sleight of hand failed then. Good thing I didn’t follow the master into criminality.
‘I’m Marlena.’ I offer my hand, trying to pacify her. ‘Jeanie’s sister. I don’t know if you’ve heard about Jeanie…’
‘Heard what? That they’ve split up? Yes, I did. I’m sorry.’
I turn away from her and move into the house, grabbing my bag to find my cigarettes. Every time I have to say something about what’s happened to Jeanie, I feel like I’m going to start sobbing.
I catch my breath. Pull yourself together, you silly cow. I go back, fags in hand, and I explain briefly the course of events as I understand them.
‘Oh my God…’ Alison looks really shocked. ‘Poor Jeanie.’
‘I need a cigarette,’ I say. ‘Can we go outside?’
‘I wouldn’t mind one either.’ She indicates my Marlboro Lights. ‘If you can spare one…’
Side by side, we sit on the front step together, smoking in silence for a while. It’s a pleasant day, too pleasant for what’s going on.
‘I’m really sorry,’ she says eventually. ‘Jeanie seemed…’
‘What?’ I am suspicious. Overly so perhaps, but then none of this lot seemed welcoming to my poor sister.
‘I thought she seemed nice. Truly.’ Alison must have detected my tone. ‘Though we didn’t really get a chance to get to know each other. It was awful, that bloody dinner.’ She inhales deeply and then coughs. ‘God, sorry. Haven’t smoked for a while.’
‘The dinner when Jeanie got sick, you mean?’
‘Yes – only…’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. It was very odd. I’m a nurse you know – well I trained as one, a long time ago. Gave it up to go into gardening. Less blood.’ She shoots me a look. ‘Can I – is it okay to ask you something?’
I shrug to say go on.
‘I wondered,’ she says. ‘Did she – does she have a problem? With drink or drugs?’
‘No.’ I shake my head vehemently. ‘Never. Not Jeanie. She drinks very little.’
‘Really? Seems even more strange then.’
‘Why? I mean she had a stint on antidepressants, after she had a bit of a – problem at work, a few years ago. But she’s never been a party girl. Never a drinker.’
‘I see. Well she didn’t seem to have drunk much that night; I certainly didn’t notice if she had. But she was suddenly so out of it. Dramatically so. Like she’d been mixing drink and drugs, I thought, and it worried me. The signs were bad.’
‘I see.’ I chuck my cigarette butt into the flowerbed. ‘So you’re a friend of Kaye’s?’
‘Hardly. I mean I was, once, a long time ago. We went to school together. But…’ She pauses. ‘We grew apart I suppose.’
‘Why? Did something happen?’ I could rein it in, I guess, my customary rat-a-tat-tat questioning, but it serves a purpose. It disarms people I find.
‘I – I couldn’t have kids. And she just got – a bit weird when she had hers.’
‘Weird how?’
‘Oh maybe not weird then. Maybe just too wrapped up in them. Kind of – obsessive. Or maybe I was jealous. Probably was. Anyway I found it hard. I mean I was very fond of them, the kids; we saw a lot of each other when they were small. Matthew and Sean got on very well – though…’
‘What?’
‘Oh I don’t know. People change, don’t they?’