The Middle Child (23 page)

     She sat, flanked by her beautiful daughters, relishing the feel of them against her, holding her husband’s disbelieving gaze.  It wouldn’t be long until she was free from the ride but for now she was okay because she knew that once it finished she would be going home.

     She didn’t want to be away from her girls for another minute.

Chapter 18 – Alex

    
"It’s okay for you," Alex said, twirling the phone cord in between her fingers.  Her daily phone call with Catherine was about 10 minutes in.  "I mean you’ve had plenty of practice in apologising.  You could even give training on the art form.  You’ve had plenty to apologise for."

     Catherine’s throaty laugh confirmed to her that Catherine had taken the comment in good fun, just as she’d intended.

     "Just tell him the truth and be genuine."

    
"Jeez, I’m fucked on both counts."  She was only half joking.

    
"With your charm and magnetism you can’t lose.  You couldn’t possibly fail to win him over.  It’s in the bag."

    
"Okay, sis, what exactly are you after?  I have no money, no car, no jewellery except for the bar that’s gone septic in my belly button, so what do you want?"

     Catherine covered the phone but Alex still heard her telling Jess that there were no fizzy drinks before bedtime.  Alex recognised the tone from her own childhood.  She could imagine the firm set of Catherine’s mouth.  You’re onto a loser, kid, she thought, knowing from her own experience that Catherine would not relent.

     "Trust me, Alex, once Jay sees how hard you’re trying he’ll forgive you for being the selfish, brittle loud-mouthed bitch that we all know and love."

    
"Thanks."

    
"Oh bugger, gotta go.  Jess has scaled the breakfast bar to get the coke."

     Alex replaced the receiver laughing to herself.  She had a feeling she was going to like that child.  She could imagine the hours they might spend together dreaming up new cruel and unusual punishments for Catherine.  It was strange to realise that she might actually enjoy the thought of spending some time with her nieces.  Her only memory of them had been the day at their mother’s house when Catherine had struck the wrong child. 

     Alex still remembered the dense sickness that had overwhelmed her upon witnessing her sister inflict their mother’s sick sadistic practice of punishing the wrong child.  Even before the smack had reverberated around their past Alex had been struck by the two little girls and not for good reasons. 

     The oldest, fair child had seemed too old, too responsible.  Her eyes had always been watching Jess whatever she’d been doing, part of her attention had been focused on her younger sister, always in a state of alert, ready to diffuse any situation that the more spirited child might inflict, as though trying to protect her from anger.  Christ, how history repeats itself, she thought, wondering if Catherine saw how clearly her own children reflected themselves years ago.  Did Catherine have any idea how much she had in common with Lucy.

     The younger child had intrigued her.  Slightly smaller than her sister she was a ball of pent up anger which reflected in every single movement of her animated body.  She didn’t place anything.  Everything was slammed down or thrown.  Her legs didn’t move slowly, every step was a purposeful stride that had a reason, to take her to wherever she wanted to go but it was the eyes that had caught Alex.  The deep chocolate brown left almost no whites to tone down the rage that sparkled within.   

     Alex found herself hoping that Catherine had returned to her family in time to save it.  A couple more years of their behaviour going unchecked and they would be set for life, irreparably moulded like a model from the kiln.  She hoped Catherine could mend the cracks before her children fell through them.

     Alex was thrilled for her sister and although she had only spoken to her since the reunion she could hear something different in the voice at the other end of the phone.  Her tones undulated more as though her vocal chords had been liberated.  The intonation in her voice had warmed and an element of the secret joy never seemed to be far from the back of her throat.

     For her own part, for the time being she had to be satisfied with mending her own life.  She viewed it as an old rusted bucket full of holes that she was trying to fill with paper tissues.  Catherine’s voice floated into her mind like a gentle, reassuring mist 'But at least you’ve found the paper tissues,' the voice said.

     She wondered how many paper tissues she might need in about half an hour, boxes of the stuff, she suspected but one thing she’d learned in her last meeting was that she had to try. 

     Arthur, a GP in his late fifties, had informed the group that his relationship with his 22 year old son had been non-existent for four years.  He recounted the physical and psychological abuse that he’d put his son through during a period of fifteen years.  He had finally worked through the guilt and regret and found the courage to make contact.  Despite her affinity for the son and all that he had suffered Alex had been surprised at the depth of torture this man lived through daily and not for one moment as he laid himself bare before them had she doubted the sincerity of his regret.  Surprisingly, she had found herself hoping for a happy ending. 

     Unfortunately, his son had stated that although he was pleased his father was getting help for his problem he did not feel ready to re-establish a relationship.

    
"Don’t you feel rejected?" Alex had asked.

    
"Absolutely, but I’ll keep trying anyway.  He has every right to his anger but if I keep trying then I live in hope that one day he’ll relent."

     That night Alex had lain awake working up the courage to call Jay.  She desperately wanted him to know that she was deeply sorry for hurting him.  On the other hand she was terrified of the rejection she would be facing if he refused to see her.  Before she made the phone call she wondered if she was strong enough to survive the rejection or would it send her to the nearest bar?

     "Well, I’ll know in about ten minutes," she mumbled to herself as she entered the kitchen.

     The familiar knock at the door sounded all too quickly.  A rush of panic tore through her.  She wasn’t ready.  She hadn’t rehearsed her words enough to get in as much as she wanted to say before he simply turned around and walked back out the door. 

     She froze in the kitchen as the door sounded again, louder.  A vision of Catherine came into her mind.  As did the knowledge that her sister would call to check on her progress.  Damn you, Alex cursed, as she moved slowly towards the door.  She was incapable of admitting to her sister that she had failed at anything.

     She opened the door and for a moment their eyes locked and suddenly Alex didn’t know what to say.  She didn’t have to wait for long before Jay elaborately threw his free arm around her and hugged her closely.  His other hand held a chocolate cheesecake from the patisserie on the corner.  Her favourite.  She returned the embrace, gratefully.

     "Fuck, darling, I love what you’ve done with the place," he said, moving past her into the flat. 

    
"I tidied up."

     He nodded approvingly and handed her the dessert. 
"Pop it in the fridge, and it will be perfectly chilled after the abomination that is your cooking."

     Alex chuckled.  Her inability to so much as boil an egg had always been a source of amusement to him.

     "Coffee?" she asked, eager to be focused on doing something.  He was acting as though nothing had ever happened between them.

     He shook his head and produced a handful of teabags from his pocket. 
"I’ll have one of these, sweetie.  They’re camomile and better for the skin than all that caffeine.  Try one, you need it."

    
"Cheers, mate," she said, putting instant granules into her own cup.  Her skin was the least of her problems.  In the absence of alcohol, caffeine seemed the least price to pay.

    
"It really does look bigger," Jay said, as he perched at the breakfast bar that was nothing more than a counter top separating the tiny kitchen from the rest of the room.  It had become the place they always sat and chatted.

    
"It’s surprising how much floor there was beneath the beer cans and bottles," she said, edging the subject towards the reason for him being here.

    
"There’s still not much of you here though, is there?  Are you moving in sometime soon?"

     Alex cast her eyes over the bare magnolia walls and the uncluttered surfaces.  Her mind never registered this as home.  One day she would either move out completely or personalise it somehow but not yet.  It took all her time just to function somewhere near normal.

     Alex poured the water into the cups and concentrated as a light brown caramel colour oozed from the tea bag.  Jay was being his normal self.  She realised that it would be quite easy to simply fall into step beside him and pretend that nothing had ever happened.  There would be no awkward silences or scrambling around for words that would show how sincere she was.  It could all simply go away.  The colour continued swirling, away from the teabag and filling the cup. 

     The teabag was becoming lost in the colour of it’s own making.  The tea-bag was destroying itself.  That had been her, she realised. 

     "Listen, Jay, I asked you here tonight because…"

    
"Oh, you’ll never guess who that tart Letitia is sleeping with this week."

     Normally, Alex would have loved to hear the community gossip but she understood what Jay was trying to do and although it warmed her she couldn’t allow him to do it.

     "Jay, don’t make this easy for me," she said with a knowing smile.  "It’s important that you listen."

    
"But Nikki has told me how hard you’re trying.  You don’t need to…"

    
"Even so, I have to do this for me."

    
"Oh gawd," he said, rolling his eyes, dramatically.  "It’s always about you."

     Alex relaxed into his chuckle.  It was something he’s said to her often.

     "Before you say anything I have an apology of my own.  I heard about the beating when I came back.  I was away, otherwise I would have come to see you."

    
"Away where?" she asked, seeing the twinkle in his eyes.

    
"A few days of sun, sex and shagging with Nicolas."

    
"Nicolas?"

    
"Yes, darling, he returned to me with armfuls of guilt presents."  He inspected his nails.  "Of course, I had to take him back."  He sobered.  "But seriously, I didn’t know until you’d left the hospital and I really would have come to visit."

    
"Despite the way I treated you?"  It had occurred to Alex that she had hurt Jay so much that his absence from her bedside had signalled the fate of their friendship for good.

    
"For goodness sake, darling, I wouldn’t have allowed a little tiff like that to come between me and my Florence Nightingale impression.  Wouldn’t I just be gorgeous in green scrubs?"

    
"Of course you would but back to what I need to say.  Firstly, you’re my oldest and dearest friend and I love you.  And if you ever expect to hear that again, you should have recorded it."

     Jay bristled with embarrassment.  Their friendship had never been sentimental.  Statements like that were a given between them and had never been vocalised.

     "Okay, on to the real juicy stuff.  You tried to tell me where I was going wrong and I wouldn’t listen.  You were a good friend to me and I threw it back in your face.  I’m not going to make excuses but I am learning that I’m not alone.  No alcoholic will listen to their reasonable friends.  I was bent on destruction and nothing was going to stop me."

    
"This isn’t necessary."

    
"It is.  I know you forgive me but I have to forgive myself.  I lied to you and broke promises and was nowhere to be found when you needed a friend.  If you put all that together I’m not sure how much harder I could have tried to destroy our friendship."

     Jay shook his head. 
"Never gonna happen."

     Alex smiled gratefully. 
"I’m glad to hear it because I need you in my life.  I need your strength."

     Jay pulled a body building pose. 
"No problem there.  As a kid I was borough weight-lifting champion, until I discovered Barbie, that is."

     Alex laughed and then sobered. 
"I know my drinking caused you a lot of pain because of your father and although we’ve never talked that much about our pasts I hope that sometime we will.  It’ll explain a few things for both of us."

     Alex could see the emotion in his eyes but she was almost done. 
"Anyway, the main thing that I want to say is that I’m sorry.  I fucked up and I know it and although I’m never gonna be the easiest person to know I’m always going to need you around.  If that’s okay with you."

     Jay stood and hugged her tightly.  She felt a couple of gentle sobs wrack his body but when she pulled away he had almost recovered.

     He wiped one eye with the back of his hand.  "Darling, I find the drama of you cooking far harder to stomach than your apology.  For god’s sake, let’s order a takeaway, put Liza Minelli in the video and get this night started."