Faith is three years older than Heather. She has the same gradually darkening blonde hair that won’t keep a wave, no matter how deft she is with the curling tongs, the same grey eyes. They are exactly the same height, but her sister has always seemed taller. Heather has never quite been able to work out why.
Heather follows Faith inside. Her brother-in-law, Matthew, wanders into the hallway from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a tea towel, and gives Heather a proper smile. ‘I keep wanting to do a roast, but there’s never enough time after church, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with slow-cooker casserole again,’ he says with a smile.
Heather nods and smiles back. She likes Matthew. He always treats her as if she’s just another one of the family. Normal, in other words. Lots of people would shrug off that label, thinking it boring, but Heather would love to embrace it. For a couple of hours a month, Matthew makes it seem as if that might be possible.
But then Heather thinks of the chest of drawers in her spare room, the one containing all her dirty secrets in pastel colours, and she starts to doubt herself again. She doesn’t let Faith or Matthew see it, though. She keeps smiling, she says the right greetings and asks after the children, whom she can hear stampeding in another part of the house. They’re the only reason she keeps this monthly ‘duty’ date with her sister. She can feel her heart thudding in anticipation of seeing them again.
As if on cue, they come thundering down the stairs at the sound of an unfamiliar voice in the hall and then stop short, staring at her shyly, as they always do at the beginning of a visit. Alice is six and Barney is three. She wants to go and hug them so much. She yearns to feel their tiny arms around her. She wants to rest her chin on their soft hair and just breathe them in, but now they’re all standing there staring at each other and the moment to lean in naturally for a cuddle has passed.
Thankfully, Alice saves Heather with one of her usual blunt questions. ‘Did you bring any presents for us? Aunty Sarah always brings presents.’
Barney nods seriously as his sister watches on.
‘Barney wants to know if you’ve brought chocolate,’ Alice adds, translating her little brother’s gesture.
Heather shakes her head, silently disgruntled with Matthew’s beneficent sister. ‘Sorry, no chocolate today, or toys.’ She risks a glance at Faith. ‘Mummy says you already have lots and lots of toys.’
It happens then – one of those moments that rarely flashes between the two sisters. Just like Alice, Heather is able to translate the look her sibling gives her, an expression on Faith’s face, both knowing and grateful, that for once acknowledges their shared past, their shared hatred of extraneous stuff.
‘But I will play any game you want after dinner,’ Heather adds, hoping that the gift of quality time – something she would have killed for when she was younger – has not gone out of fashion in this era of brightly coloured electronic worlds accessed with the swipe of a chubby finger.
Barney looks blank, but Alice pipes up. ‘I get to pick what game?’ she asks brightly, and Heather nods. Alice is pleased with this response. She smiles to herself and skips off towards the living room, leaving Heather to wonder if it’s right that a six-year-old should look quite so much as if she’s cooking up a plan.
Heather follows her sister and brother-in-law into the kitchen, where pans are boiling on the hob and delicious smells are wafting from a large slow cooker. She watches her sister as she and Matthew bustle round each other, putting the finishing touches to the meal. When he puts an easy hand on Faith’s hip as he reaches past her for a wooden spoon, Heather looks away. It seems too intimate. Too much. Too much to watch, anyway. It’s been so long since someone of the opposite sex touched Heather that she can’t even remember if a man’s fingers have ever rested on her hip that way.
Faith doesn’t even notice the affectionate touch, and that makes Heather sad. And maybe a little bit angry. She’s reminded of her mother, who amassed so much stuff that even her treasures were lost in the sheer volume of her possessions. This seems to be the same kind of wastefulness. Faith has also amassed much – but it comes in the shape of love and people, not things, so now the moments that would be treasured by Heather if she were in Faith’s place are buried and lost in the fullness of her sister’s life.
Once again, it causes Heather to wonder how they turned out so differently. Is it just that she’s broken, damaged, in a way that Faith never was? And how could that be, after the childhood that they both endured?
She waits for Faith’s mask to slip, prods the robustness of her sister’s smile each time it appears. But either Faith is much, much better at this game than Heather is, or her sister has attained the thing that has eluded Heather all her life: she’s moved on. She’s over it.
If that’s the case, Heather isn’t sure whether to worship her or hate her. Faith knows, you see. She knows what’s behind Heather’s façade. She has an understanding that can never be gained from a distance, by studying and logical analysis. This is knowledge that comes from experience, from being flung in the mess and the chaos and struggling through it to come out the other side. Even though they frequently think to themselves that they would rather just cut each other loose so they no longer have to deal with each other, it is this shared struggle that binds the two sisters together. Another thing to blame their mother for.
As the aroma of the cooking chicken intensifies, wrapping the country kitchen in a herby fog, Faith marshals her troops. ‘Come on, you lot! Time to lay the table.’ They snap to attention and set to work without a word of communication. Matthew grabs the crockery out of the cupboard and Alice helps with the knives and forks, although Matthew has to switch them all around when she’s finished. Even Barney has been given a job, and he carefully puts coasters next to each setting.
The table looks lovely, with Faith’s blue and white Calico china and a jug full of flowers from the garden in the centre. Faith’s family are lovely too – the kids are just naughty enough to still be adorable as they whine about the casserole having mushrooms and refuse to eat their peas, and Matthew sometimes looks across at his wife and smiles. Not for any reason that Heather can see. Just because.
It makes her feel as if there’s a gaping hole in her chest, one that is only lightly papered over by her summer blouse and, as she eats the buttery mashed potatoes and creamy sauce, she imagines what it would be like if this were her dining table, if it were her husband sitting at the head, smiling at her. She wants it so much it almost makes her gasp.
Unbidden, a picture of Jason pops into her head. She wants to swipe it away again, because it feels foolish to have him there, even though it’s only within the private confines of her own mind, but she can’t quite bring herself to do it when she sees the way he’s smiling at her. However, her imagination falls down when it comes to filling Alice and Barney’s seats. It seems, even in her fantasies, she can’t allow herself to hope quite that much. She snaps back into the real world to find Faith looking at her, weighing her up, and Heather starts to resent her sister just a little bit more.
How did you do it? she wants to yell. How did you manage all this? It’s just not fair.
And why hasn’t she whispered her secrets to Heather? Why has she guarded them so closely, so jealously? Surely sisters are supposed to share? Only maybe they don’t, Heather thinks bitterly, when you grew up in a home where everything was defined by what you possessed.
When they’ve finished the main course, Heather tells Matthew to sit as she clears and stacks the plates and takes them into the kitchen. Heather always finds this part of the afternoon wearying. Faith will be cross if she doesn’t offer to help, but when she does, Faith just shoos her back into the dining room.
Alice is showing off a bracelet made of neon plastic beads she made at a friend’s party, and is insisting her aunt has a better look, so Heather slides into her sister’s empty seat to do just that. It’s nice, being there, Matthew on one side, Alice next to her and Barney opposite and, as she listens to her niece chattering away, a warm feeling spreads through her chest.