The Family Tree (31 page)

‘When did they tell you?'

‘I guessed.' Angie put her glass down again and then leant back again with a sigh. ‘For starters, even though Auntie Faye called me Angie, the
woman kept calling me Angela, like she had some sort of
investment
in the name. Then there was this
familiarity
between her and Auntie Faye. More than if they were just friends. And of course there was the fact her name was Sophie. That was a bit of a giveaway. Mind you, by halfway through the lunch it was more a case of me praying that I
wasn't
right.'

Kate frowned. ‘Why?'

‘Oh, a number of things.
Her
mainly. She hardly had a word to say for herself, sort of deferring to him instead. Calling him lover boy all the time. At one stage Auntie Faye chipped in with something or other and
she
said –' Angie put on a high-pitched, babyish voice, ‘ “– Please don't interrupt, Faye. Go ahead, lover boy.” I thought I was going to vomit.'

‘God,' Kate grimaced. ‘But didn't she ask about
you
? And your life?'

‘Not really. Oh, a little bit later on, I suppose.'

‘And what about her leaving and all that?'

Angie waved a foot gently through the water, watching the ripples expand. ‘Well, after lunch they did the big announcement and I just nodded and didn't really say much. So Auntie Faye took him into another room and left us alone. That was the first time
she
really spoke to me. Asked me how I was going and what my plans were. But, do you know, I don't think she was really that interested. She did say how sorry she was but that apparently she'd had no choice. Then she went on about what a bastard Dad'd been. Which I can tell you went down really well given he'd just died.'

‘But did she say why she married him in the first place? And not Thomas?'

‘Not really. Auntie Faye was the one who filled in the finer details for me. But do you know what? I don't think she was really that fussed about leaving me anyway. Not particularly maternal. In fact, it may have been a relief.'

‘Oh, Ange, that's probably –'

‘I'm not being maudlin,' interrupted Angie, shaking her head to add sincerity. Her wet hair flipped around her face. ‘I
really
think that. She never had any other kids either, so she may have learnt her lesson. No,
there was only room for him anyway. You should have
seen
her with him.' Angie kicked her foot against the water with a little more force. ‘Then when they were leaving, he did the big magnanimous father thing and pulled out his wallet. Handed me fifty dollars and then patted me on the head. On the
head
!'

‘Oh, Ange.'

‘And she was all fluttery. Saying how wonderful he was and how generous. But even then she was saying it to
him
, not me.'

‘Fifty dollars was a hell of a lot back then,' remarked Kate pragmatically.

‘She even said how lucky I was!
Lucky!
' Angie kicked her foot out once more, this time creating a wave. The water hit the other side of the spa and then splashed back towards them. ‘My father had just died and I was lucky! Just because this one-eyed dropkick gives me fifty fucking dollars!'

Kate looked at her cousin sympathetically. ‘I'm so sorry, Ange. I just wish you'd told me. Why on earth
didn't
you?'

Angie stared at the rippling water for a moment and then glanced across at Kate. ‘Let's have the other joint.'

‘Okay.' Kate reached to the side and extracted the second, rather lumpy joint. She lit it and passed it straight to Angie. ‘Not quite as good as mine, but here. Enjoy.'

Angie took a long drag and held the smoke down. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back until she could hold her breath no longer, then released it with a rush. ‘I found this stuff after I'd spoken to Auntie Faye yesterday. And I thought it would make it so much easier to tell you. If I was a bit high, you know. Relaxed.'

Kate glanced at Angie's spare hand, which was clenched into a fist that was lightly punching the water on her other side. ‘Any more relaxed and you'd be scary.'

‘And you wonder why I didn't tell you?' Angie took another, shorter drag and passed it over. ‘
Your
mother was always held up as being perfect. You even named that princess doll you had after her. And the way Uncle James spoke about her was, oh, like she was amazing.
My
dad
hardly ever spoke about mine, all
I
had was this mystery thing. But at least with that I could pretend she was
anything
.' Angie turned and looked at Kate, her expression tight. ‘Then to find out she was just this ordinary middle-aged woman, who chose this ordinary middle-aged
jerk
over me . . . well, I didn't
want
to tell you. Because I suppose I didn't want it to be true.'

Kate spoke slowly. ‘You preferred the mystery.'

‘Yep. And then afterwards, when it didn't bother me as much, well there never seemed a reason
to
tell you.'

‘Hmm.' Kate took a short puff of the joint. ‘Did you ever see her again?'

‘I've run into her a couple of times at Auntie Faye's.' Angie shrugged. ‘But I haven't sought her out and she certainly hasn't bothered. Which, to be honest, is a bit of a relief. I just get angry when I think about
then
, when I met her. I was feeling so lost after Dad died, she could have really made a difference. I suppose a psychologist would say I've got unresolved issues, but so what? I don't think they affect me too badly so I'll just stick with them.'

Kate leant back, letting this all filter through her mind. It was hard to reconcile this new image of Sophie with the one she had built up. So how much harder would it have been for Angie? She took another drag and handed the joint across. ‘At least I can help you with one thing. My mother wasn't any princess, not by a long shot. Apparently she was a bit of a bitch.'

‘I know.'

‘You
know
?'

‘Well, I didn't
know
. Not for certain. But Dad used to give this sort of shudder whenever her name was mentioned, and he also said once that his mother couldn't stand her. I don't think Auntie Faye got on with her either. So I suspected she wasn't the angel your father made out.'

‘But it wasn't entirely her fault, you know.' Kate felt defensive. ‘Apparently she had a dreadful childhood. Her father was a real bastard, and her mother was a bit simple. It was pretty horrid, by all accounts.'

‘That's terrible.' Angie passed the joint back, as if in sympathy.

‘And my parents
had
to get married.' Kate took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill her lungs, and her head. ‘I was born in April, you know.'

‘I thought as much. Having been to every one of your birthday parties.'

‘Smart-arse. I mean they were married in January and I was born in April. You do the maths.'

‘Oh, god. Do I have to?' Angie paused for a moment and then nodded slowly. ‘Well, well. I must say I'd never have picked Uncle James as someone who'd jump the gun. He never seemed particularly . . . well,
sexual
. No offence.'

‘I know what you mean.' Kate blew smoke out and then watched it drift apart. She had a sudden thought. ‘Angie! What was your father in jail for?'

‘My father was never in jail.' Angie turned her hand over and gazed at the palm. ‘Although he did get charged once, when he was in the army.'

‘He was in the
army
?'

‘Yes, in Korea. You know that.'

Kate stared at her cousin, open-mouthed. Now that it was mentioned, she
did
have a vague memory of Uncle Frank having spent time in the army. Certainly he had never spoken about it much. But could
that
have been where he was? Kate felt laughter bubble in her throat because it suddenly seemed hugely amusing.

‘I've got all his military stuff. Medals and all. From Korea.' Angie held her hand higher and frowned at it. ‘Have you noticed that my hand is getting all wrinkly?'

‘It's called age.'

Angie turned her hand over slowly, and wiped the back of it dry with the other one. ‘Look at this. See the hairs? And the dimples when I do this?' She flexed her hand and then straightened it. ‘I'm just realising that I don't know it at all. And if I don't know the back of my own hand, then what the hell
do
I know?'

‘Dunno,' said Kate slowly, seeing the dilemma. Then Kate started to laugh again because it seemed almost as comical as thinking her uncle had been in jail, when he'd really just been in the army. Angie looked
up, frowning, and then her face relaxed into a smile before she began to laugh also.

‘I think we're high.'

‘I think you're right.' Kate stopped laughing long enough to take another drag. The tip of the joint glowed even brighter and she suddenly realised that it was almost dark. The rain had stopped also, with just the occasional patter as water slid from nearby trees.

‘Sometimes I think my Auntie Faye liked your dad. I mean,
really
liked.'

‘Are you serious?'

‘Unrequited love,' Angie nodded. ‘But I think she also accepted the fact he wasn't interested. Sometimes I think it's rather sad that he never even tried to find someone else after your mother, but maybe that's the sort of person he was anyway.'

‘You mean solitary?'

‘Yeah. And if the marriage wasn't altogether happy, then that just sort of verified it for him. He was like a confirmed bachelor, just one who had a kid along for the ride.'

‘I like that image,' said Kate. ‘But I think I'll merge it with a somewhat happy marriage, for my mother's sake.'

‘Fair enough. Do you know how much I miss him?'

‘Yes. Me too.'

‘No,' Angie frowned. ‘I mean, do you know how much
I
miss him? Because sometimes you act like you're the only one.'

‘No, I don't,' said Kate defensively. ‘I
know
you miss him. I know everybody misses him.'

‘And you must admit you've been a little hypocritical,' continued Angie, as if Kate hadn't spoken. ‘Having a go at me for not telling you about my mother, when you haven't exactly been a font of information yourself.' Angie ran her finger over the ash at the end of the joint and grey flakes floated down to the water. ‘Although, to be honest, you started closing down even before Uncle James died. I mean, sure most of the hard yards were left to you. Hospital visits, organising the home help, that sort of thing. But I did try to do what I could. I went there
every day after work. But it still felt like you shut me out. Especially at the end.'

Kate felt her anger blossom. She took a gulp of wine. And then another.

‘Remember a conversation we had a week or so ago? About Sam using avoidance? Well, I think you do too. Not for the little things, but for the really huge ones. Almost as a coping mechanism. Then again, maybe we all do.'

‘Hmm.'

‘I'm not trying to start an argument,' said Angie, watching her now. ‘And I'm not trying to make it a competition. It's just sometimes I think you're hurting so much that you lose sight of the fact the rest of us are too. Me in particular.' She turned away again. ‘But let's change the subject. I don't want to be depressed tonight. Besides, methinks it's time for a top-up.'

As Angie clambered out of the spa, Kate stared at the water, at the way the filtered light played across the ripples. She took a deep breath and then released it, with some of her anger. The rest she tucked away for later. Behind her she could hear Angie rummaging through her handbag.

‘Where the hell's a pen? You'd think amongst all these odds and ends I'd have a pen.'

‘Is a pen an odd or an end?' asked Kate, turning around to watch her.

‘Both.' Angie held one up with a flourish. ‘You top up our drinks and I'll use this to make the perfect joint.'

Kate hoisted herself up into a kneeling position. Water cascaded from her shoulders, rushing to re-enter the spa. She watched it, fascinated by the seamless fusion, and for some reason suddenly thought of Shelley. She pointed a finger at Angie. ‘You! You told her! After you said you'd wait!'

Angie paused, with the pen poking out one end of the half-made joint. ‘Well, you started it by telling her I was leaving. You left me no choice.'

Kate thought about this. ‘Hmm. I suppose so.'

‘Voilà!' Angie carefully pulled the pen out and then screwed that end of the joint closed. ‘Bugger your fancy filters.
This
is the way to roll a joint.'

‘Pleb,' replied Kate critically. ‘Besides, they're not called filters, they're called roaches.' She reached over and grabbed the bottle, refilling their glasses with the last of the wine. She passed one over to Angie, who was lighting the joint. ‘Here you go. Something to whet your fancy.'

Angie trickled smoke from her nostrils. ‘Hmm, a wet fancy. Not sure that's what I'm aiming for, right now.'

‘You know what I mean.'

‘Either whet my appetite or tickle my fancy, I'm guessing.' Angie manoeuvred herself forward and sat down on the side of the spa with her towel still wrapped around her shoulders. ‘I should get back in, because it's pretty cold out here.'

‘Why don't you, then?'

‘Not sure.'

Suddenly thirsty, Kate drained her glass and then reached behind and laid it down on the side of the spa. ‘I am definitely high.'

‘Have you ever heard that theory of testing breast sag?' asked Angie suddenly, holding the pen out. ‘You put this underneath your boob. Or you can use a pencil.'

‘What
are
you talking about?'

‘Look, I'll show you.' Angie passed the joint over and then pulled her T-shirt forward before pushing the pen down behind it and her bathers. She frowned as she made a few awkward adjustments and then looked back at Kate, beaming. The ends of the pen stuck out visibly as two tiny tents on a purple stripe either side of her right breast. ‘See?'