Now, it seemed, she had sacrificed herself to a man who had no real ambition, and who was happy to stay at the bottom rung of the ladder of life. He actually thought that their son would make them happy – that having a second child made them some kind of family! And perhaps they would have been if he had reached his full potential. But he hadn’t – James had lied to her, he had told her he would make something of himself, he had promised her he would give her the world. Instead, he had let her down spectacularly, while her little sister had snagged herself a fucking real grafter. A grafter
she
had actually been attracted to. How was it that fucking Celeste, that fucking stupid, senseless, brain-dead idiot, was swanning around with Jonny Parker, like she was important or something. Celeste! Who was another fucking moron, who had the brains of a gnat. Who had no personality to speak of and no looks either really. Nothing to write home about anyway.
Cynthia looked in her bedroom mirror. She saw herself as a stranger would see her, looked at herself without any bias whatsoever, and she knew she still looked good. She had been lucky – most women after two children looked exactly like they had given birth to two children. She didn’t; there wasn’t a mark on her. That pleased her, because she knew that she would have to look around at some point for another husband.
Because there was no way she was going to stay in this marriage, no way she was going to waste herself on someone as pathetic as James.
Celeste was happier than she had ever been, since Jonny had asked her to marry him. And it was obvious to anyone who knew her. She was genuinely thrilled at the direction her life had taken. As she looked at Jonny sitting at her mother’s dining table, she felt the happiness well up inside her. Her love for him was so strong it was as if she could hold it in her hands.
She knew that Jimmy was thrilled for her; he was a really nice man, too good for her sister of course – not that she would ever say that out loud. But Cynthia somehow made you think awful things about her. It was as if she was only there to make you dislike her. She dumped her children here, at her parents’ house, for weeks at a time. Not that she minded; in fact, like her mum and dad, Celeste actually felt happier when the kids were there, because Cynthia didn’t seem to care about them really.
Now, though, as they all sat around the table for Sunday lunch, Celeste suddenly felt sorry for Cynthia, and that was a new experience for her. She had always felt she was beneath her elder sister somehow, because in many ways she was a hard act to follow. For a start Cynthia was movie-star beautiful, a head-turner, a real stunner. It had been difficult to grow up in her shadow, a watered-down version of Cynthia. People had often pointed out her sister’s lovely face and perfect figure, and they had never realised how hard it had been for
her,
because no one ever talked about her in that way. It was as if, to them, she didn’t
exist. But, in fairness, she had understood why they had singled Cynthia out.
Things were very different now. With Jonny loving her like he did, and her life being so tremendous, Celeste felt for the first time ever that she could pity her sister. Because, no matter what, she knew that Cynthia wasn’t happy at all, she was desperately
un
happy, and that saddened her. At the end of the day Cynthia was still her sister, she was still her flesh and blood. And she
did
want her to be happy. She wanted her sister to be as happy as she was, she wanted her sister – just once – to have a smile on her face that wasn’t forced.
As Celeste looked at Jonny and saw his handsome face beaming at her, as she looked at little Gabby, all nervous twitches and tension, she wondered how anyone could give birth to a child, and not care for them in any way. It was clear to her suddenly that her sister didn’t care about anyone, least of all her little daughter.
‘What you thinking about, Celeste?’ Cynthia’s voice was low, but the question was serious. Everyone around the table went quiet, each interested in the answer.
Celeste shrugged nonchalantly, embarrassed as always to be the centre of attention. ‘Nothing really, Cynth, nothing you’d be interested in anyway.’
Cynthia grinned then. ‘Listen, Celeste, an original thought in your head would die of fucking loneliness.’ She laughed at her own joke, a loud, harsh laugh.
Celeste couldn’t help herself. She said loudly and honestly, ‘If you’re not careful, you’re the one who’ll die of loneliness, Cynth.’
Cynthia looked around the table, and she saw the shock on everyone’s faces at her sister’s words, a shock that was quickly followed by genuine laughter, and she knew then what they really thought about her.
‘That told you, Cynth! The truth hurts, girl, don’t it?’
Her father was looking at her with such loathing it made her realise just how disliked she actually was in her family. It was a real shock for her because she had been under the impression that she was better than them somehow, and she had believed that they had thought that too. She glanced at her husband, and saw the triumph in his eyes, even though he wasn’t looking directly at her, and she knew then that, if she wasn’t careful, she would be sidelined by this sister of hers.
She
was the elder sister,
she
was the one who had dragged herself out of this dump, and
she
was the one who had bettered herself. And she would carry on bettering herself, because there was no way she would settle for anything less than the best.
‘Oh, for crying out loud, James, are you stupid or what?’
Jimmy looked at his wife and wondered, not for the first time, how he had ended up tied to a woman who he had nothing at all in common with. In fact, he knew somewhere in his heart that she had nothing in common with anyone else in the world. She was a one-off, a complete enigma. No one liked her. Once that had saddened him, he had thought she was misunderstood and seen her as someone he could protect. Now, though, he knew that if anyone needed protecting it was him – him and his children. He had married a bully, an emotional bully, and he could no longer pretend otherwise. The last few months had shown him what his life was really like, and it wasn’t pretty. He had finally admitted to himself that he
had
no real life, nothing even remotely resembling one. All he had was Cynthia and her wants and her moods. She had taken away everything from him: his dignity, his self-respect, his children.
He was also not blind to Cynthia’s reaction to her sister’s husband-to-be. Cynthia was almost ill with jealousy at Celeste’s obvious happiness and, even though he hated his wife at times, hated her for her coldness and her complete disregard for everyone around her, there was still a part of him that longed for her to love him. Look at him in the way she looked at Jonny Parker. But he knew it would never happen.
They lived in this expensive mausoleum, and the saddest thing of all was that this house, which he had bought because
she had loved it so much, was now her prison. They couldn’t sell it, couldn’t make their money back – she had spent so much on it that to try and sell it now would mean they would be thousands of pounds out of pocket. The expensive kitchen, which he had known at the time was too good for a semi-detached house in Ilford, had been paid for with what amounted to a second mortgage. When you added in to all that the carpets, curtains, the fitted wardrobes, the bathroom with its cast iron bath, and the new central-heating system, they were up to their eyebrows in hock.
‘No, Cynthia, I ain’t stupid. I
was
stupid, though, when I let you borrow money like it was going out of fashion. But I wanted
you
to be happy, and
you
were only happy when you were spending money. Well, we can’t sell this drum and make a profit on it because the designer kitchen and bathroom that cost the national debt hasn’t actually put a fucking bean on this place! It’s still just a semi in Ilford, in Essex.
And
we still have to pay it all off. So, thanks to you, and your fucking wanting, we’ll still be here when we’re fucking seventy.’
Cynthia looked at her husband, and she felt the hatred rising up inside her. She looked at his weak features, his pale eyes, nondescript brown hair and his doughy body. She’d thought him handsome once. Now all she saw was that he was useless, useless and weak. She felt like her life was over. She had tied herself to a man who would never ever be even remotely important to her, or anyone else for that matter. She had two children, children who had half of this man inside them, children who, if she wasn’t careful, would grow up to be as useless and nondescript as he was.
‘We’re insured, aren’t we? I made sure of that much. Use your fucking loaf for once in your life!’
Jimmy looked at his wife and felt overwhelmed with despair. Life could not get much worse, surely? His children lived at his mother-in-law’s and his home was a permanent battleground
because his wife no longer hid her disdain for him. He was earning a good wage, but it still wasn’t enough for what they owed. He had allowed her to do what she wanted, and he had stood back while she sunk them further and further into debt. He had not been man enough to put his foot down – in fact, he had not even thought about curbing her spending. But, now she knew he wasn’t on the fast track, now she knew he wasn’t going to become the boss of bosses, she treated him like dirt. Like he was nothing. And it hurt.
‘Oh, Celeste, you’ll look stunning in that, babe. I’m so proud of you.’
Jonny was thrilled at his fiancée’s choice of dress for their engagement party. It wasn’t cheap but, in fairness, it wasn’t really expensive either. It was just like Celeste in many respects – quietly beautiful.
‘Do you like it really, Jonny?’
He grinned happily at her and she caught her breath. He was so good-looking, with thick dark hair, and dark blue eyes, well built and always well dressed. Celeste wondered every day how she had been lucky enough to catch his eye.
Gabby grabbed her hand and she laughed delightedly. ‘Don’t worry, you. You’ll be the chief bridesmaid.’
Jonny picked the little girl up, and threw her into the air. Gabby screamed with delight and, as he placed her back on to the ground, she said happily, ‘Can I live with you two when you get married?’
Celeste looked into Jonny’s eyes and she saw the sadness in her own mirrored there. She knelt down and hugged her little niece tightly. ‘You can stay with us any time you want, right?’
Gabby nodded seriously, understanding that she wasn’t being invited for any real length of time. But already in her short life she understood that people came and went. And often let you down. One thing she had learned was that everyone eventually let you down,
that
was real life, that was how it all worked. But
it hurt her, because she would love nothing more than to become a part of her auntie’s life. She would love to be a part of something that she felt would last for a long, long time.
She knew her daddy loved her, but he never came to get her any more from her nana’s, and her mummy
never
came to see her, never gave her the time of day.
It was as if she had done something wrong and her mother was punishing her for it. But she hadn’t done anything – she had tried her hardest to be a good girl. She tried everything in her power to make her mummy want her again, but nothing had worked in any way, shape or form. It was hard for her, because she didn’t know what she was supposed to do. She didn’t know
how
to make her mummy love her. She didn’t know why she wasn’t wanted by her mummy.
Her nana loved her, of that much she was sure. Because, no matter what happened to her, she always ended up back at her nana’s, which was strange because, according to her mummy, her nana’s house was a filthy shithole that she wouldn’t let a dog live in. Gabby supposed that was why she couldn’t have a puppy, though she would love one dearly. Her nana’s house wasn’t clean like her mummy’s, but it felt better than her mummy’s house because she didn’t have to be on her best behaviour all the time. And the nicest thing of all was she never wet the bed at her nana’s. Her granddad said that was because she could kip in peace without her mummy watching her every move. Her granddad also said that her mother was a stuck-up bitch, who needed a right-hander, and that her dad was a lovely bloke but he needed to toughen up and stop letting his old woman walk all over him like a second-hand carpet. He was funny, her granddad.
As she saw her auntie smiling and laughing, she felt warm inside. She loved her auntie Celeste, and she loved her uncle Jonny, and she wondered why her mummy didn’t like them very much. She had the idea it was something to do with Uncle
Jonny. Her mummy always tried to get Uncle Jonny’s attention, but she guessed that, like most people, he didn’t want anything like that from her. She could understand it too –
she
didn’t like being in her mother’s eyeline either because all she did if you were was moan and complain.
Gabby pushed away the thoughts that troubled her and tried to bask in the sheer happiness of being with her auntie. So many of her thoughts worried her, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to make them go away. As she forced a huge smile on her lovely face she suddenly felt the urge to cry, because times like this, the really good times, only made her more aware of the sadness inside her, the sadness that was always there.
‘You all right, sweetheart?’ Celeste knelt before her little niece and, seeing the tears in her eyes, she said brokenly, ‘What are you crying about, you silly mare? You’re with family, darling, family who love you.’