Daniel sighed. ‘Please, Lil, let’s not do this again. We’ve been through it a hundred times. I’d be mad to turn this opportunity down. It’s only six months working out of the New York office and then I stand a really good chance of being made a managing partner. I thought that’s what you wanted – what we both wanted.’
Lily recalled all their conversations over the years about the milestones they planned to reach in their careers. She’d always supported Daniel’s ambitions, just as he had hers. She’d just never envisaged that they would have to live on separate continents to achieve them. ‘It was. It is. It’s just … A six-month secondment isn’t insignificant. You’re dismantling our lives and I’m allowed to feel ambivalent about that.’
Lily folded her arms across her chest so that Daniel couldn’t see how much her hands were shaking. In the tension between them she imagined him stepping forward, wrapping his arms around her, leaning his head against hers – his breath hot on her neck – and whispering into her ear that he didn’t have to go.
‘I’m not dismantling our lives. Let’s be honest, we barely see each other during the week as it is because one of us is always working, so me moving abroad for a few months is hardly going to be a radical change. Don’t look at me like that – you know it’s true.’
Lily glanced past Daniel, down the hallway, towards the new kitchen they’d finished installing only three months before. ‘I know we work hard and I know this is a great opportunity for you. I suppose … I just wish you found it a bit harder to leave all this – to leave us – behind.’
Daniel took a step towards her, placed his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘Of course it’s difficult to leave. But it’s not for ever. And I know our life is great in lots of ways, but that doesn’t mean …’ His voice was low and quiet before it trailed off altogether.
‘Doesn’t mean what?’
‘I just think some space might do us good.’
‘In what way?’
There was a momentary pause during which it was almost possible to hear the scales balancing in Daniel’s head, weighing up the pros and cons of saying what was on his mind. ‘You know what I’m talking about. You’ve never been able to let go of the past. I honestly don’t know whether it’s because you don’t want to or that you can’t, but it’s always there between us. It’s been like that for years. And I’m sorry, you know I am, but you’re not the only one who’s affected by it. It has an impact on all of us.’ He looked away, twisting the platinum band on his wedding finger that Lily had placed there almost eighteen years before.
‘You’re bringing that up now? Daniel, that’s so unfair.’
They stared at one another and it was as if all the things they had never dared speak of were weeping silently in the space between them.
‘For God’s sake. Can you two stop arguing for five minutes before Dad leaves?’
Lily whipped her head up to where Phoebe was standing at the top of the stairs, glowering at them both, dark kohl framing her eyes, bright red burnishing her lips.
‘You know I can hear every word you’re saying? Do you ever think I might have had enough of listening to your arguments?’
‘We’re not arguing, darling. We’re just—’
Daniel’s phone bleeped loudly and Lily watched him glance down at it, grimace, return it to the pocket of his jeans. ‘My cab’s here. I’ve got to go.’ He ran up the stairs, put his arms around Phoebe and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’ll come back for a weekend soon, OK, sweetheart? And, remember, I’m on email or Skype or WhatsApp or even the good old-fashioned telephone whenever you need me. I love you.’
He kissed her again before racing back down the stairs, then took a deep breath and turned to Lily. ‘I’ll message you when I get to the apartment, but it’ll be late so I’ll call you tomorrow. And, Lily, please let’s see the positives in this. It might do us good, honestly.’
His lips grazed her cheek, his fingers gently squeezing her arm just above the elbow. Then the front door was open and he was loading suitcases into the cab, turning to wave and smile one last time. And then he was gone.
Lily stood by the open front door, watching the cab until it reached the crossroads at the end, pulled out onto the main road and disappeared.
‘Can you close the door, Mum? It’s bloody freezing in here.’ Phoebe was still standing at the top of the stairs, eyebrows raised, the sharp contours of her sleek dark bob jutting across her cheeks.
Pushing the door shut, Lily caught sight of her own reflection in the hallway mirror and was startled by how pale she looked. Footsteps stomped across the landing overhead and she heard the decisive slam of Phoebe’s bedroom door.
She stood still in the silence, glancing down at her watch: a quarter to five. Hours until bedtime, yet she was overcome by a powerful urge to lie down and sleep. She thought about knocking on Phoebe’s door, checking she was OK, seeing if she wanted a drink or a snack. But Lily knew that when Phoebe was angry, the best thing she could give her was space.
Walking up the stairs and into her bedroom, she closed the door and lay down on the bed. Curling onto her side, she pulled one of Daniel’s pillows towards her and clutched it to her chest. And as she shut her eyes she found herself back there, in a bed she was never supposed to have slept in.
She is lying on her side, spooning her sister’s body. They are not meant to share a bed, or even a bedroom, but sometimes Lily cannot help creeping in here after the television has been switched off, after the landing light has gone dark, after the soft murmurings of her parents’ voices have fallen silent and the house is still save for the anxious beating of Lily’s heart. Her sister breathes in deeply and when she exhales, Lily feels the warmth of her breath drifting across the soft down of her arm. It has been six months since it began and still Lily cannot persuade herself to accept it. It is as though her mind has been cleaved into two distinct parts: the knowing and the not-knowing, the acceptance and the denial. She can willingly tolerate the self-delusion if it means she is not forced to imagine a future that may have already begun to arrive. Lily tightens her arm around her sister’s waist. Her body seems so small, like a baby bird alone in a nest, predators hovering overhead, with only Lily to protect her. She would, she knows, do anything to safeguard her little sister, to stop this happening to her. Her head hurts with the injustice of it and she leans in closer as though trying to divide the burden between them. She feels the warmth of her sister’s feet against hers, imagines the pale half-moon of the toenails she has so often painted. As she lies in the darkness, she feels certain that she will never love anyone with the fierceness she feels right now.
Lily forced her eyes open and sat up, thrusting the pillow back against the white wooden headboard. She rubbed her fingers in concentric circles against her temples, trying to erase the image from her mind, but the memory was there in her muscles, her skin, in the feel of her sister’s breath on her arm and the gentle vibration of her heartbeat.
She thought about how she and her sister would curl up on the sofa together, watching movies under a duvet they’d dragged down the stairs, singing along to musicals at the tops of their voices, chocolate cornflake cakes balanced on their laps, mugs of steaming hot chocolate on the coffee table. She remembered running races in the park, slowing her own pace right at the end so that they always crossed the finishing line together. She remembered her sister’s laughter: such a rich, rounded, infectious sound that made you want to dive right in and float around inside.
The sense of loss burrowed deep inside Lily’s chest. Sometimes she wasn’t sure whether it was more painful to remember or if it would be more upsetting to forget.