Seven Days of Us(60)

Anyway, hope all this adds some interest to your convalescence. Probably seems like nothing to you, with your tribe of fifty-seven siblings (all of them 100 percent legitimate, of course). Next installment, coming soon.


Love you and miss you too much,

O x

Olivia pressed send. Writing her one-way e-mails to Sean came naturally now, but the thought that she might get something back this time was making her smile inanely, alone in bed. She nearly added a PS explaining that Phoebe had guessed their secret, but decided against it. Sean could be indiscreet—if he knew she’d told her sister, he might start telling people before it was safe. The news had taken her mind off the sick feeling she’d woken up with again. It wasn’t like she was actually about to vomit or anything. It was more like a clawing inside, as if her stomach was slowly turning inside out. She pushed away the thought that nausea was the major first Haag symptom. Besides, she’d felt fine yesterday, once she’d had breakfast. Most likely it was just another hangover—her father had been topping everyone up compulsively last night.

There was a knock on her door. It was her sister. She never usually came into Olivia’s room.

“Hey. What’cha doing?” said Phoebe.

“Writing an e-mail.”

“To Sean?”

“Yes. Nosy.”

“Is he OK?”

“Yeah, he tested negative—it’s all over the news!” Olivia was too relieved to berate her for knowing nothing. Or to grill her on how she’d “found out” about Emma’s diagnosis.

“Oh! Cool! So he’s better?”

“Not better better. But he’s not high risk anymore. They’ll be able to move him out of isolation.”

“Amazing. Yay,” said Phoebe, wanly. She sat on the edge of the bed, and sighed.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I just, I don’t like him. Jesse.”

“You don’t like him, or you don’t like the fact that he exists? What Andrew did?”

“Him, everything about him! And that. Both, I guess. It’s scary to have everything you believed in, just, shattered.” She flopped on her back, her hands behind her head, at Olivia’s feet. “To find out we were all living a lie.”

“We weren’t ‘living a lie.’ There were just things we didn’t know. That’s how it is in families.”

“Is it? Anyway, whatever, Daddy isn’t who we thought he was. Can’t believe he would do that to Mummy.”

“He made a mistake when he was young. I know it’s hard to think of him like that. But nobody’s perfect.”

“I’d never do that. I wouldn’t marry someone and not tell them I’d cheated.”

“But he probably knew it would just upset her. If something meant nothing, why make someone miserable by bringing it up years later? It’s not like he knew the woman got pregnant. And it sounds like he and Mum had only just met.”

“Doesn’t it make you wonder what else he’s done?”

“Not specially. He’s worked from home since you were born. When would he have had these torrid affairs?”

Phoebe examined a split end, not looking at her.

“Anyway, you can’t expect to understand other people’s relationships,” Olivia added. That was the thing with Phoebe. She thought she had a right to know everything about everyone.

“Liv! They’re not ‘other people’—they’re our parents!”

“Still. Everyone’s entitled to privacy. Just like Mum didn’t want to talk about her diagnosis until she was ready. She told me yesterday, by the way.”

She looked straight at Phoebe, wondering if she’d admit to lying about the way she’d found out. But Phoebe was on a roll.

“That’s different,” she said indignantly. “It’s got nothing to do with it. Anyway, she was always going to say, just not before she had to. She didn’t want to upset everyone before Christmas.”

“Isn’t that exactly what Andrew did? Why would he mention it until he had to, if it would only upset everyone?”

“So we could have all been prepared! I just think Mummy’s right, Daddy should have replied to Jesse’s e-mails. Then it wouldn’t have been such a shock. For us.”

“I get it. He didn’t want to rock the boat. Not until we were done with quarantine.”

She got out of bed, and as she did so felt another lurch of queasiness. Her stomach plummeted, as saliva pooled in her mouth. She’d confront Phoebe about her lie later.

“Are you OK?” said Phoebe, nervously.

“Fine. Just—it’s weird, I feel really hungover. I didn’t know I’d even drunk that much.”

Forming words felt like an enormous effort. She tamped down the nausea rising in her throat.

“Oh my god, I know what you mean. I’m such a lightweight. I can have literally one glass and feel like shit the next day. It’s probably ’cause you’re so skinny now.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” said Olivia, pulling on her dressing gown. Her hands felt clammy as she tried to knot it.

“Porridge always sorts me out,” said Phoebe, following her out of the room. It reminded Olivia of how she used to tag along everywhere when they were little.