The Half Sister(7)
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ says Lauren.
‘It means that this would suit you, wouldn’t it?’ Kate glares at Lauren. ‘You’d love nothing more than to have Dad’s memory tarnished.’
‘Why would I want that?’ asks Lauren, fixing her sister with a cold hard stare.
‘Because then you’d feel justified for treating him with such contempt for all these years.’
‘Girls, girls, please,’ says Rose, who’s still visibly shaking and wringing her hands in her lap. ‘None of this is helping.’
‘So, what are we going to do?’ asks Lauren.
‘Nothing,’ says Kate.
‘Don’t you think she deserves to be heard?’ asks Lauren incredulously. ‘You can’t just dismiss what she said and ignore her.’
‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do,’ says Rose icily as she stares at her daughters.
4
Lauren
‘Well, what d’ya know?’ Simon smirks, as soon as Lauren has strapped all the children into the back seat of the car and gets into the front. She exhales, letting out the breath she feels she’s been holding in for an eternity. She doesn’t want to talk about it, but she doubts her husband will give her the choice. ‘Do you think there’s something to it?’ he asks.
Lauren turns to look out the window, watching the pavement fall away as Simon pulls off. Jess’s sudden appearance is hard enough for her to get her head around. She hasn’t got the energy to face an interrogation from her husband.
‘Who knows?’ she says quietly.
‘Who would have thought it?’ Simon says, chuckling to himself. ‘The man who spent his life dealing with everyone else’s infidelities was up to no good himself.’
‘It might not be all that it seems,’ she says. ‘We shouldn’t jump to conclusions until we know the facts.’
Simon snorts, and she knows he’s about to do exactly that. He’ll enjoy flying in the face of controversy, especially if it will give him a ringside seat.
‘All those times he spoke to me like I was a piece of dirt on the bottom of his shoe. All those times he tried to make me feel as if you were too good for me . . .’
Lauren bites down on her lip, to stop herself from saying, I am.
‘And all the while he was up there, in his ivory tower, he had a secret lovechild.’
Lauren takes a deep breath. It’s all very well having her own thoughts and feelings about her nearest and dearest, but she can’t bear to hear Simon saying them out loud. She’d never dream of airing her opinions on his own dysfunctional family, so she doesn’t expect, or want, to hear his views on hers. But she can sense he’s looking for a row, and she just doesn’t have the strength for another evening of arguments and sleeping on the sofa.
Although, if the truth be known, sleeping alone, even if it is on a second-hand couch, where no matter how she lies a spring sticks into her ribcage, is preferable to lying beside her husband right now. The admission saddens her, but these past few months it’s felt like every night has been a war zone which she’s had to navigate her way through, judiciously avoiding the grenades that Simon throws at her.
‘What is it you do all day exactly?’ he had tactlessly said when he came in from work the other night to find Lego on the living room floor and a pile of dirty laundry on the landing.
She used to wonder that herself, especially when she’d only had one baby to get up, change, feed and put back to sleep again. Some days, she’d not had time to shower, or even get dinner ready for when Simon got home.
But ironically, the more children they’d had, the more efficient Lauren had become with her time and Simon’s money, as she learnt to stretch both to their full capacity. She’d mastered multi-tasking, and had become a wise shopper, searching out the best deals on meat and vegetables and eking the most out of every meal.
When Simon was working, the pressure eased off a little, as Lauren didn’t need to worry so much about where the next penny was coming from. But on the occasions he was laid off, which as a labourer on a building site were often, both their purse strings and Simon’s moods, Lauren noticed, were more difficult to manage.
‘I cannot wait to see how this all plays out,’ says Simon, still grinning, although his eyes are fixed firmly on the road. ‘It’s almost a shame that he’s not here to repent his sins. I’d love to see how he’d wriggle his way out of this one.’
Lauren’s chest tightens. She’s not going to respond, but she doesn’t suppose that’s going to stop him saying what he wants to say.
‘Can you imagine your mum?’ he goes on. ‘She’s going to go fucking ballistic if this all turns out to be true.’
‘Don’t use that language in front of the children,’ says Lauren, although what she really wants to say is, Don’t you dare talk about my family as if we’re just some sideshow put on for your own amusement.
‘They’re asleep,’ snaps Simon, without checking.
A car pulls out in front of them. ‘Careful,’ calls out Lauren, dramatically slamming her hand onto the dashboard, hoping that the diversion will dispel the increasingly uneasy atmosphere. Simon honks his horn unnecessarily, but it doesn’t distract him from his train of thought.