The Sisters Page 17

  Grace smiled at her. ‘You were always the strong one, Mommy used to say.’ She closed her eyes.

  Walking back into the lounge room, Violetta saw Carlotta and Jeff sitting on the sofa, having cleared a spot from the debris that Grace had created.

  ‘She OK?’ asked Carlotta.

  Violetta sunk into the chair. ‘I guess, under the circumstances.’ She thought about Grace and what she had said. She didn’t know if she should tell Carlotta or not, knowing how Carlotta would respond, she decided to wait until Grace was sober and then talk to her.

  ‘Does she drink like that often?’ Jeff asked.

  Violetta looked at him and decided to tell him a little of the truth. ‘My sister is an alcoholic. She has drunk on and off since she was about fifteen. She attends therapy and can usually control it, but sometimes things set her off.’

  Carlotta’s phone rang, ‘I have to take this,’ she said and walked into the next room.

  Jeff started to pick up shards of glass from the rug. Violetta helped him. ‘What did you say to her? To bring her down?’

  Jeff shrugged. ‘I just said there wasn’t a problem in the world that didn’t have a solution and whatever happened we could all work it out.’

  Violetta laughed. ‘That’s what I said!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Do you believe it?’ asked Jeff, as he took the rubbish bag that Violetta handed him.

  ‘I didn’t used to, but I am beginning to. You don’t have to stay and do this. I am so grateful you could come and help. I didn’t want to call an ambulance and run the risk of more drama.’

  ‘It’s fine. I’m not in today,’ said Jeff.

  ‘Oh shit, did I call you on your day off?’ asked Violetta, as she moved about the kitchen, binning the broken items.

  ‘All good, wasn’t doing anything,’ he said easily.

  When he saw Violetta’s number come up on his phone he answered it instantly. While they may not have been able to be together he would have done anything for her, and he hoped this showed her his feelings.

  Carlotta walked into the room. ‘I have to go and meet Spencer. Do these stupid tests.’

  ‘OK, I’ll let you know how she is,’ said Violetta, holding a dustpan and brush.

  Carlotta walked over to Jeff and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You are a lifesaver, Dr Carson.’

  Jeff blushed, which Violetta found endearing.

  ‘Anytime,’ he said.

  As Violetta walked Carlotta out to the elevator, Carlotta turned to her sister.

  ‘He likes you.’

  ‘Well, it’s not that easy.’

  ‘Nothing’s impossible,’ said Carlotta, repeating Chris’s words to her as she disappeared behind the elevator doors.

  Within an hour Jeff and Violetta had cleaned up the apartment. Grace was sleeping so soundly that not even the sound of the vacuum woke her. Violetta and Jeff stood surveying their work.

  ‘We did good work, doctor.’

  Jeff laughed. ‘Yes, we did.’

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Violetta suddenly. ‘I haven’t eaten today.’

  She rifled through the shopping bags. ‘Cheese, bacon, eggs, bread, butter, tomatoes, mayonnaise. I can make us a grilled cheese on toast. That’s about all I am able to create, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Me too. I am sadly lacking in the cooking department. Cheese on toast sounds great,’ he said and sat down.

  Violetta stood in the kitchen. ‘I am so fucking tired now.’

  ‘Emotional tiredness,’ said Jeff, as he moved into the kitchen and took over her tasks.

  ‘Go and sit down. I’ll do it,’ he said gently.

  Violetta sat on the sofa and thought about Grace’s confession in the bedroom. Was it true? Why would she make it up? Could she be imagining things?

  ‘Jeff,’ she called.

  He popped his head out and looked at her.

  ‘Do you think that when people are drunk they say things that aren’t true, they might make things up? Like they believe it?’

  Jeff looked down at the floor and then at Violetta. ‘Are you talking about Grace and the man claiming to be your brother?’

  ‘Did she tell you?’ asked Violetta, shocked.

  Jeff nodded.

  ‘I don’t know what to believe,’ said Violetta, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

  Jeff went back to the kitchen bench. ‘I guess it comes down to whether you want to believe it. If she hasn’t lied to you before, the story adds up. Her reaction was extreme, but that is due to the alcohol and built up stress over the past weeks. Do you think it could have happened?’

  Violetta nodded.

  ‘Then get her help. I can recommend a few doctors I work with who can help her with this trauma.’

  Violetta stood, looking at Jeff in his sister’s kitchen. In his casual jeans and his white T-shirt and blue sweat top, unzipped, looking so capable and kind, she felt overwhelmed with emotion.

  ‘What?’ he asked as he saw her staring at him.

  She walked over and took the bread from his hands and put it down on the bench.

  ‘What I am about to do will break every rule so just humour me until it’s over and then you can tell me it’s wrong and you feel nothing but I just want to.’ And she reached up and put her arms around him and looked into his eyes, which looked confused, and then she kissed him.

  She felt his body stiffen with surprise and his mouth freeze and her heart sank. Just as she was about to pull away she felt his tongue in her mouth and then they started to kiss passionately, frenzied and he lifted her easily onto the bench. She wrapped her legs around him and he pushed himself against her. She felt his hard-on through his jeans and it turned her on even more. His hands were everywhere and she thought she was going to faint with desire. She pulled at his sweat-shirt and he pulled away quickly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, breathing quickly.

  ‘Why did you stop?’ she asked, worried.

  ‘Because we can’t do this, we agreed, ’ he said, pulling on his top.

  ‘Yes we can.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Jeff.

  ‘Because I’m attracted to you.’

  ‘You would never even look at a man like me usually,’ said Jeff, feeling foolish.

  ‘I know, but I am now,’ said Violetta angrily.

  ‘Listen, I don’t want a quick fuck, Violetta. I don’t want you transferring your gratitude to me though sex. If you want to be with me then be with me but not like this,’ he said, not even believing he was saying it.

  ‘Fine then,’ she said, and jumped off the bench.

  Jeff walked over to her and just as he was about to speak, his beeper went off. ‘Excuse me.’ He pulled out his phone and walked into the lounge.

  Saved by the bell, thought Violetta, as she tried to ignore the throbbing between her thighs.

  Jeff walked into the kitchen. ‘Well, if there wasn’t enough drama today, I have more,’ he said, gathering his keys and coming towards her.

  ‘What?’ asked Violetta, panicked.

  ‘Your mom has woken up.’

  21

  Birdie, New York – December 1995

  She touched the bruise on her cheek tenderly. Arnica, someone had told her, would bring out the bruising faster and make it heal quickly. She struggled to open the bathroom cabinet and found the vial of the liquid. Both arms hurt from where Leon had grabbed her and she knew there would be bruises there also. Usually he stayed away from hitting her face, which people would notice, but today he was angrier than usual.

  ‘Mom, are you OK?’ asked Grace from outside the bathroom door. Grace was the only triplet home when she and Leon had fought. Violetta was at a friend’s house for the weekend and Carlotta was out on her horse, as usual.

  ‘I’m fine, darling,’ said Birdie brightly.

  Grace waited, unsure what to say, as Birdie applied a face mask to her skin. She winced as she rubbed it into her face. Opening the door, she pulled Grace into her arms. ‘Just a silly fight, mommi
es and daddies do that sometimes. Now, how about a facial? Would you like that?’

  Grace nodded, not because she wanted that white cream on her face but because it would make her mother happy, and that was what she wanted more than anything.

  As Birdie rubbed the cream into Grace’s ten-year-old skin that was like satin, she saw the resemblance between Grace and her father. She wondered if anyone else saw it as she did.

  ‘You are so beautiful,’ she said to Grace truthfully.

  Grace smiled at her mother, again to make her happy. She didn’t care about beauty; she wanted to be strong and smart like her sisters. Then she could stop her father yelling and hurting her mother.

  After Birdie had washed her daughter’s face and her own, she felt the bruise smarting. It would be visible soon under the red mark on her cheek. Hustling Grace from the bathroom, she applied the arnica and thought about her options. As long as her father was alive, then Leon would always have a hold over her. And she knew it; he reminded her of it whenever she looked like she was about to take control of her life. Like that morning, when she insisted she come to Pajaro with him. She was sick of being at home. She had started the company and then Leon had taken over. She wanted to be more than just a mother of her beloved girls. They were ten now, at school. Birdie wanted a life also. Leon, however, had other ideas and her idea of coming in one day a week had been met first with anger and then with a backhand across the face when she pushed it further.

  It had been like this between them for years and sometimes, when the bruises were bad enough, she took photos or went to the local police station. Once she even started to press charges but Leon had presented her with photos of her father lying on a bed somewhere, posing in leather. His erection being licked by a young man. Birdie dropped the charges and she knew she would have to drop her idea of working at her beloved Pajaro again.

  She had no close friends to confide in, Leon made sure of that, only social acquaintances that she met through charity events. She had met a lovely woman from Chicago, Frances Thurlow; they had worked on the Chicago and New York Neonatal Fund. But Chicago was so far away and Leon was so close. Birdie had eventually pushed away the friendship, citing her busyness with her daughters as her excuse, and so the phone calls with Frances stopped. Dina hadn’t spoken to her since her marriage to Leon and Spencer… well, Spencer was so far away now, she wondered if he ever existed in the first place. That was until she saw her daughters.

  She had tried to write to Spencer but never knew what to say, how to explain her choice. She knew she had broken his heart; she felt it as deeply as her own wounded soul. Spencer had never married, her mother had told her. Leon claimed it was because he was gay like her father, but Birdie knew no gay man could have made love to her the way Spencer had.

  Birdie finished tending to her wounds and walked down the immense staircase to where Grace was carefully leafing through one of her history books, the Ming dynasty her current fascination. Grace had Birdie’s father’s taste in fine art, thought Birdie, as she watched her youngest daughter treat the book as though it was an ancient text. She was so different to her sisters, fragile and scared. Birdie hoped she could become strong one day, that life would not treat her like it had her mother.

  A woman deserved choices and Birdie wondered if she would ever have a choice to make again in her lifetime.

  And rashly she made her first choice in a long time. Picking up the phone, she dialled a number that was burned into her memory.

  ‘Spencer, it’s Birdie.’

  22

  ‘Time to wake up properly, Mrs de Santoval.’

  Jeff watched as she stirred a little. He was anxious, unsure of what Birdie’s condition would be after so long in a coma. Slowly Birdie opened her eyes and tried to focus.

  ‘Spencer?’ she asked.

  ‘No, Spencer isn’t here. Do you know where you are?’ Jeff asked.

  ‘Where is Grace, she needs me,’ said Birdie tiredly.

  ‘She will come when I tell her you are OK,’ said Jeff firmly.

  He knew Grace was sleeping off her alcohol binge in the company of the family housekeeper, Thea, who Violetta had asked to drive down and sit with Grace.

  A nurse walked into the room. ‘Two of the daughters are here now,’ she said to Jeff, as she started to check Birdie’s vitals.

  Birdie waved her hand away. ‘Go away, I’m not sick.’ The nurse hid a smile and raised an eyebrow at Jeff. He knew this was a good sign for Birdie.

  ‘Would you like to see them now?’ asked Jeff.

  ‘Of course,’ said Birdie imperiously.

  Jeff opened the door and addressed Violetta, Carlotta and Spencer.

  ‘She’s awake but she is a little confused,’ he said quietly. ‘This is normal.’

  ‘I’m not confused at all,’ Carlotta heard from inside the room.

  As she walked inside, unsure of what to expect, she saw Birdie sitting up in bed, looking as though nothing had ever happened. ‘Carlotta, darling,’ Birdie said.

  Carlotta rushed to her side, took her hand and bent down and kissed her mother repeatedly on the cheek. Spencer stood in the doorway, overwhelmed at the sight of Birdie.

  ‘Well, come here and say hello to your wife then,’ said Birdie to Spencer.

  Carlotta and Spencer and Violetta glanced at each other and then at Jeff.

  ‘Mom, that’s Spencer, not Leon.’

  ‘Who’s Leon? That’s Spencer, my husband,’ she said crossly.

  The room was silent as Spencer approached. Jeff nodded for him to go along with it.

  Birdie reached out her hand. ‘Oh Spence, are you all right?’ she asked.

  Spencer took her hand. ‘I’m fine darling, I’m fine.’

  Carlotta looked away as tears filled her eyes. Jeff and the nurse headed out of the room and Carlotta and Violetta followed them. ‘Why does she think she’s married to Spencer?’

  ‘Memory loss is normal after a head trauma like this,’ Jeff explained. ‘Normally the memory will return eventually.’

  ‘But what if it doesn’t?’ asked Violetta.

  ‘We will cross that bridge when we come to it. One day at a time, as you have been doing.’

  ‘What should we do?’ asked Carlotta.

  ‘Keep talking to her, she will get tired easily though, so don’t overdo it.’

  ‘I meant about Leon and Spencer and the whole marriage thing,’ said Carlotta impatiently.

  ‘At this stage I would not push her on it,’ said Jeff. ‘We need to ease into these things slowly. The last thing I want to see is her upset or agitated.’

  They watched as Jeff walked away and Spencer came out. ‘She told me to go away, that she was tired and wanted to sleep,’ he said. ‘She has no idea how long she’s been in a coma for.’

  Carlotta sat down in a chair in the hallway and felt exhausted.

  ‘I thought it would be this big moment, you know? We would all be around her bed and she would reach out and we would touch and hug and cry. I didn’t think she would be in a foul mood and have no memory of Leon.’

  Spencer laughed a little. ‘I think you have seen too many movies.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Do you want her to remember Leon?’ asked Spencer.

  ‘I’m not sure if I want her to remember him if he was the one who caused this,’ said Violetta.

  They all sat in silence. Then Carlotta stood up and kissed Spencer on the cheek. ‘I’m going to go for a walk. Let me know if anything changes.’

  Spencer smiled. ‘Go, it’s been a big day for you.’

  Carlotta left the hospital and walked out onto the busy street. Where could she go? She glanced at her wristwatch. Five o’clock. She stood on the street, wondering what to do when she heard a voice behind her. ‘Can I walk with you a while?’

  She smiled as she turned. ‘I am so fucking glad to see you,’ she said to Chris, in his large black overcoat.

  ‘I thought a girl might need a friend at a time like th
is.’

  Carlotta nodded and then started to cry and Chris held her tight as she sobbed. He held her as he ushered her towards his car, which he had double-parked at the front of the hospital.

  ‘Hop in,’ he ordered as he opened the door.

  ‘Home,’ he said.

  And Carlotta sat back as he drove them towards his house.

  *

  Grace awoke with a thumping headache. She tried to read the time on her phone, which was next to her bed. Seven o’clock in the morning? That can’t be right.

  Sitting up in bed, she felt violently ill and lay back down again. She took a deep breath, sat up again and closed her eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside.

  She stood up and walked to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Why was she sleeping in her clothes? She undressed carefully, each movement hurt her body and she stood shivering, waiting for the water to warm up. Stepping into the shower, she let the water run over her and she washed her head, feeling as though she had pins and needles in her scalp.

  A tentative knock at the door made her scream. ‘Who is it?’ she yelled.

  ‘It’s Thea.’

  Thea? Why was Thea in her apartment? She turned off the shower and pulled on her robe. Dripping wet, she opened the door.

  ‘What are you doing here, Thea?’ she asked.

  ‘Violetta asked me to come, to make sure you were all right,’ said Thea, looking at the floor. She had known Grace since she was a baby but from what Violetta had said about her behaviour, this was not the Grace she knew.

  ‘What? Why wouldn’t I be all right? What’s going on Thea?’ Grace asked, as she walked in past her and went to her kitchen. She opened her cupboards and then the dishwasher. ‘Where are all my glasses and cups?’ she demanded.

  Thea looked at her oddly. ‘They were broken, yesterday,’ she said, trying to remind Grace.

  ‘Broken? Who broke them?’ asked Grace furious.

  Thea frowned. Violetta hadn’t warned her about this type of behaviour.

  ‘Who broke them?’ asked Grace again.

  ‘You did.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You broke them yesterday. Violetta said so. She said you were angry about something that happened at work and had to come home.’