35
I find Nancy exactly where I left her, although she’s no longer sitting upright but has rolled over on to her side, her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands knotted together across her shins. Instead of trying to move her, I simply sit down on the tiles by her head and gently run my fingers through her hair, just as my mum used to do to me when I had a nightmare or a tummy bug. It seems to soothe her, and it’s helping me to stay calm, too. There are so many things I need to ask her, but for now it’s enough just to be here for her, and I’m surprised at how good it feels to be her big sister.
That fear I experienced earlier tonight when I found her curled up in that sobbing ball will stay with me forever. It cut through all the other feelings I had towards Nancy and gripped me with an urgent yet simple realisation: I love my sister. I care about her wellbeing and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. Just knowing those things for a fact is a comfort, and for the first time ever I can picture a future relationship between us. Not just one of sibling rivalry, either, but one founded on real friendship.
Nancy used to try to cuddle up to me when we were still kids. My dad would put a film on and wrap us up together under a blanket on the sofa, one on each side of him. Nancy would always wriggle free, though, and come across to me. I can remember now how her sticky little hand felt as she slipped it into mine, and how I’d rest my cheek against the top of her glossy black head as she nodded off to sleep. It was all so simple then, but over time I’d let my resentments rule my heart. Nancy wasn’t the one who had changed her behaviour – I was.
I switched on the hallway light when I came back, but the main part of the apartment is still shrouded in darkness. I can see the white chocolate button of the moon through the glass doors of the balcony, the sky now so clear after the earlier rain. The crickets have fallen silent, so I know it must be late, and I pass the time by counting the scatter of stars thrown out like gems across velvet. I think about Elaine, and of Theo and fleetingly of Tom, although I don’t let my mind dwell there for very long. I think of Rachel, and wonder if my idiotic words are causing her to have a sleepless night. I hope they aren’t, and that she knows me well enough to realise how much of a fool I am. It was only a few hours ago that we spoke, but I feel as though a decade has passed. Everything that has happened has added years of wisdom and understanding to my weary mind, and I let those things percolate inside me as I sit on the floor.
It’s time, I think. It’s time for me to change and to grow up a bit. I’ll be leaving Mojácar a different person, and I’m thankful for that, even if the road up to this point has been a tough one. Whatever has happened to make Nancy react in such an erratic way, we’ll get to the bottom of it. There’s nothing we can’t deal with, nothing I’m not fully prepared to hear, and nothing that could possibly shock me more than the other things I’ve heard over the past twelve hours.
‘Hannah.’ It’s barely a whisper, and I blink before turning away from the stars.
‘Yes?’
Nancy lifts her head and rests it on my lap.
‘I need to tell you something.’
‘It can wait,’ I soothe, tucking her hair behind her ear so I can see her face. She’s stopped crying now, but her wet cheek gleams blue in the light from the moon. ‘You don’t have to worry. I spoke to Tom; I know what happened between you two and it’s okay.’
A tear snakes out.
‘No, it’s not.’
‘Nancy, it’s okay,’ I try again, lifting my knees until she has no choice but to sit up. ‘Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Nothing is worth all this,’ I say, gesturing towards the chaos all around us.
She makes a small noise, but doesn’t sound convinced or even comforted.
‘Come on,’ I say softly, getting to my feet and wincing slightly as all the blood rushes back into my legs. Reaching for her hand, I help her up and catch her as she staggers into me.
‘Steady on!’ I joke, my attempt to lighten the mood falling flatter than a pancake.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbles, her eyes wide beneath the dark sweep of her matted fringe as she takes in the smashed pieces of mirror.
‘It’s okay,’ I repeat, steering her firmly towards the bathroom. ‘Go and wash your face, then you’re going to get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning, okay?’
She nods but doesn’t smile, and a few seconds later I hear the water running. By the time she joins me in the bedroom, I’ve remade the bed and have fetched her a glass of water.
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ she murmurs as I pull the sheet up around her. She’s changed into a huge, baggy grey T-shirt with her university coat of arms printed on the front, and I wonder if it belongs to her ex-boyfriend.
‘I’m making up for lost time,’ I tell her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been such a crap sister.’
‘Half-sister,’ she replies with a hint of humour, and I laugh, relieved.
She closes her eyes but I don’t leave for a while, instead preferring to wait until I’m sure she’s asleep. Her eyelashes are thick and cast spiky shadows across her cheeks, and her breathing is slow and measured. Just as I’m about to tiptoe away, Nancy sneaks out a hand and grasps my wrist.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers, not opening her eyes. ‘Thank you for looking after us.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ I say, bending down to kiss her shiny head. ‘Now go to sleep.’
I spend the next few hours pottering around aimlessly and cleaning up the mess in the apartment as quietly as I can. Other than the big mirror and Nancy’s poor mobile phone, nothing else is actually broken. It’s a good thing I do pay a pittance for my shared room in the Acton house, though, because the bill for the ornate mirror isn’t going to be a small one. Still, I scold myself as I empty a dustpan full of broken glass into the kitchen bin, what matters is that Nancy is safe. Everything else can be sorted out with a polite apology and a generous PayPal transaction.
Every time I hear even the smallest sound, I fear it’s Claudette returning with Carlos, but thankfully the hours pass and there’s no sign of her. For someone who pretends to be so blasé about her Spanish holiday fling, she doesn’t half spend a lot of time with him – and I’m glad, too. If a broken hairdryer can cause her to erupt like a tiny volcano, then God knows how she’ll react when she sees what’s happened in here.
I’m in the bathroom washing my face in preparation for bed when the nagging thought that’s been lingering in my mind since Nancy went to sleep suddenly crashes through my subconscious like a drum kit down a metal stairway.
What. The. Hell?
‘Looking after us,’ Nancy said to me. ‘Us!’ Who the hell is ‘us’?
‘Nancy! Nancy, wake up!’
There’s a groan from under the sheet.
‘Come on, up you get!’ I order, switching on the overhead light. She must sense my urgency through all those heavy layers of sleep, because I feel her shoulders tense up under my hands.
She sighs then, defeated.
‘Give me a minute to get dressed.’
‘I’ve wanted to tell you so many times.’
Nancy is looking down at the ground as she speaks, pushing the soles of her trainers through the jumble of sand and dust at her feet. After she got up, I hardly said a word to her, instead just gathered up my bag and led her out of the door and down the hill to the beach. I knew she would need the walk to get her thoughts in order, and I needed the air.
‘I know we haven’t been the best of friends, but as soon as I found out about the baby, I thought of you straight away – I was too scared to tell Mum and Dad and I thought you’d know what to do. I kept promising myself that I would just come out and say it,’ she continues. ‘But every day it got harder. After a while, I think I started to believe that if I ignored it, if I just kept quiet and tried to forget it was happening … Well, that it might just vanish, you know?’
I nod.
There’s a thin shaft of light appearing now from behind the thick carpet of sea.
Dawn. A new day, a fresh start.
‘So, you hadn’t fallen out with Dad?’ I guess, and she shakes her head.
‘No, not at all – but I have been ignoring his messages and calls since I got here.’
‘That makes two of us,’ I tell her, and we share a small smile.
‘Does your ex know you’re pregnant?’ I ask her.
She moves her head a fraction and looks up to show me fresh tears.
‘I told James as soon as I’d had it confirmed by the doctor.’
‘And he didn’t take it too well?’ I guess, feeling a wave of fresh pity.
Nancy’s nodding now, through her tears. She takes a deep breath and gets her sobs back under control.
‘He accused me of doing it on purpose,’ she says, disbelief in her voice. ‘I’ll never forget it. He went so pale, like I’d told him I was dying or something.’ She shrugs and turns to look at me, to gauge my reaction.
‘It must have been a shock,’ I allow, careful not to give in to the torrent of disdain that is sitting like barbed wire in my mouth, ready to curse this stupid boy, this wimp who was supposed to love my sister.
‘I thought he would calm down after a few days, once he’d got over the initial shock,’ Nancy continues. ‘But he just seemed to get worse. He was ignoring all my calls and messages, and none of his friends would tell me where he was.’
My blood is definitely boiling now and I reach across and place my hand on top of hers. The Mojácar wind chooses that moment to sneak up alongside us and blow sand across our bare legs, but neither one of us reacts.
‘Eventually, he turned up,’ she says, her words weighted with sadness. ‘It was a week after I had first told him.’
She’s starting to struggle again, and I close my eyes in preparation to hear the next part of the story.
‘He was so cold, Han. I tried to hug him and he was just rigid. He wouldn’t even look at me. It was as if he’d prepared a stupid speech, because he just stood there and recited words at me like a robot. He said we were too young, that he would borrow some money from his parents and that we would deal with it.’
‘Arsehole,’ I mutter.
‘I knew what would happen, though,’ Nancy says, gazing straight ahead to where the sun is now rearing the top of its fiery head. ‘I knew he didn’t want me any more. I could feel it. I used to be able to feel how much he loved me, you know, but that day there was nothing. I guess I thought …’ She stops again, steeling herself, and I squeeze her shoulder encouragingly.
‘I thought that if I kept the baby, then at least I would always have a connection to him. He would have to see me, and perhaps in time he would love me again.’
It makes sense, of course, but it’s also completely nonsensical. I think of my own parents, and how my arrival clearly did nothing to change the way my dad felt about my mum.
‘It doesn’t always work that way,’ I tell Nancy now, and I know she understands why I’ve said it.
‘I know.’ She shakes her head sadly. ‘But it’s all I have. I know you think James is horrible, but I still love him. I can’t help it.’
‘And Tom?’ I enquire, unable to help myself.
She looks uncomfortable, and I almost tell her that it’s okay, but she starts talking again before I get the chance.
‘He was kind to me,’ she says simply, and I’m immediately shamed. ‘I was getting no replies from James, and I suppose I just needed to feel wanted by someone. Does that sound pathetic?’
‘No,’ I assure her, thinking of myself turning up at Theo’s front door. ‘It really doesn’t.’
‘Diego, Ignacio, Tom – they were all just about me feeling better for a few hours. I wanted to feel desirable in the way I used to with James, and I knew that Tom liked me. When I was with him, it helped me to forget. I’m so sorry,’ she says, her face crumpling. ‘I’m such a stupid cow. All those men deserve better than me.’
I watch as a napkin dances up to us on the breeze, executes a strange sort of wiggly performance by our feet, then hurries off again.
‘I don’t think you need to worry about Diego,’ I say lightly. ‘I think you made his summer with that kiss.’
‘I can’t believe I did that,’ she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face.
‘Ignacio clearly thinks you’re more than desirable,’ I add, putting on my best male Spanish voice and declaring, ‘I love her more than nothing in the world!’
‘Oh stop!’ she laughs, and I give her a gentle nudge with my elbow.
‘And Tom will be fine,’ I add. ‘Once he knows about … Well, the whole story, then he’ll understand.’
‘I can’t bear what I did to him last night,’ she says then, putting her face in her hands. ‘He was so sweet to me and I just went wild. I don’t even know what set me off, I just all of a sudden couldn’t deal with what was happening. After he left, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and hated what I saw. I tried to call James again and he didn’t answer, so I just threw my phone. I didn’t even think about what I was doing until I’d done it.’
‘It’s okay,’ I say again. ‘It’s only a mirror, and we can arrange another phone. And don’t fret about Tom, either. He’s a good person – he cares about you.’
‘I can’t stop thinking about the baby,’ Nancy admits. ‘Turns out that being pregnant is quite a hard thing to ignore.’
‘Have you been getting sick?’ I ask. ‘Or was the other night really because of the booze?’
‘No,’ she says, digging her trainer in a little deeper. ‘That day we got drunk together at the beach, I was actually drinking non-alcoholic cocktails. I felt like we were getting on for the first time in forever and I didn’t want you to think I was a bore.’
‘Well, you convinced me,’ I exclaim, and she gives me the benefit of a smile. How stupid and self-involved I’ve been. I simply didn’t notice all these clues staring me in the face – the reluctance to wear a bikini, the floaty clothes and her almost constant state of nausea. What Tom had taken to be an eating disorder and I had assumed was merely attention-seeking was, in fact, symptoms of another life beginning.
‘How far along are you?’ I ask.
‘I think about four months,’ she says, her hand instinctively going to her belly. She’s still wearing the oversized T-shirt that she wore to sleep in, and it’s so baggy that it’s impossible to see if there’s any bump at all.
‘I’m barely even showing yet,’ she says then, reading my mind. ‘But in my head, I am. I feel so bloated and tired all the time. I know I should be eating more, but everything seems to smell like old socks. This baby is clearly going to be a very picky eater, unlike me.’
There’s renewed colour in her cheeks when she talks about the baby which makes me feel warm, and the beginnings of an idea start to take shape in my mind.
‘Who else have you told?’ I want to know, but she shakes her head.
‘Aside from James and the GP, nobody knows. You’re the first person I’ve told. Well, in fact, you guessed.’
‘I’m a bit slow on the uptake,’ I admit, and am gratified to see the corners of her mouth go up.
‘In my head, I planned to walk straight up to you and tell you the minute I got here,’ she says now, and again I’m aware of that creep of shame. I’d been so obviously annoyed when Nancy turned up – no wonder she’d retreated inside herself. She’d come here to me looking for help and support, and all I’d offered her was hostility. I have never been more ashamed of myself.
‘But then I just couldn’t tell you,’ she finishes. ‘You seemed so cool and together, and I didn’t want you to be disgusted with me like James was.’
‘Cool and together?’ I repeat, laughing out loud. ‘Are we talking about the same person?’
‘You are!’ she insists, refusing to play along. ‘You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted to be just like you. I hate that you look like a supermodel and I look like a pug.’
‘What?’ I cry, still spluttering with mirth. ‘I think pregnancy has addled your brain!’
She looks momentarily hurt, and I quickly apologise.
‘Too soon?’ I guess, and she nods.
‘Sorry. I guess I’m still getting my head around the idea. This is the first time it’s actually felt real – you know?’
‘It’s amazing,’ I tell her, realising as I do so that I should have said it ages ago. Because it is, isn’t it? The idea of a new life, a new member of our strange little family, is amazing. Rather than being appalled, I’m really excited, and I tell Nancy so.
‘You think I should keep it, then?’ she asks.
‘That’s your decision,’ I assure her. ‘But I want you to know that whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you. I plan on being a far better sister from now on.’
‘I’ve always thought you were a great sister,’ she argues. ‘I was just jealous of you – I always have been.’
‘Me, too!’ I exclaim, and then we’re both laughing. How silly we’ve both been, and for so long, too. Now that I have Nancy back, I can’t believe I ever let her go.
‘What do we do next?’ she says eventually, and I pause to watch another wave scatter polished pebbles across the shore. There are so many things we need to do, and boxes we need to tick, but before all that I want to go through with the plan that has been formulating in my mind.
‘I think there’s a few calls we have to make,’ I tell her, picking up a stone and throwing it into the surf. ‘But first there’s someone that I’d really like you to meet.’