“He hated him. He hated that he was soft and gentle and kind. Hated that he was like Hilary, that Ca—that he—wasn’t some red-blooded macho philanderer like he is. And my brother knew it. He knew his dad felt like that, and it messed him up since he was a little boy. Even when he was happy here and accepted and loved, he still dragged that around with him.”
“He may not have been the best father—” Angela started.
“He was a terrible father!”
“He was traditional and he was impatient—yes, he was a shitty dad, but he was still Callum’s father, and he’s lost him just as much as any of you. More, maybe, because he never got the chance to put it right.”
“Neither did I,” Robin whispered.
“What do you mean?” Angela lowered her voice, tried to reach across to stroke Robin’s hair, but she inched away. “He knew how much you loved him. You two were always thick as thieves.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Robin said. She said it to her knees, without looking up.
“Robin, please.”
“It doesn’t matter, just get out.”
“Please don’t do anything rash,” her mother said softly.
“Just get the fuck out of my room.”
—
It was only after he was arrested that the family found out how old Rez was. Twenty-three. It had been bad enough when everyone thought he and Callum were both a pair of kids, but they’d got together when Callum was seventeen and Rez would have been twenty-two. A man. A skinny, immature, rat-faced man, but still a man. And dominant, they believed, despite the pathetic figure he cut.
Robin faced down that man. Stared into his rat face as she gave evidence at Rez’s court case for theft, possession and actual bodily harm—outraged that he wasn’t charged with grevious bodily harm and refusing to hide while she said it all. “He pushed my sister and he said, ‘I hope you die.’ He definitely meant to hurt her.”
What she said changed from the original statement she’d given before Callum’s death. She blamed anger for clouding her memory. Claimed she’d heard Callum trying to stop Rez, claimed it was Rez grabbing the jewelry, Rez leading everything. Gentle Callum being swept along. It was deeply and deliberately untrue.
FORTY-ONE
ROBIN|PRESENT DAY
“What else do you have in there?” Sarah asked, peeking curiously around the dining room door.
Robin took a deep breath, sighed and shook her head. “I don’t even know. Not all of it. I’ve lugged it around from flat to flat. Demos, old notebooks, guitars, my first amp. The little Park amp, do you remember?”
Sarah shook her head. “You must have got that when I was in Atlanta,” she said, and Robin tried to ignore the bitter note.
Sarah opened the door wider, put her hand on the small of her back and stretched into it.
“You okay?” Robin asked. “Is it the baby?”
Sarah smiled. “I can’t feel it yet,” she said. “I’m just sore. A bit tired.” She stepped in farther, tentatively, and beckoned for Robin to join her.
“I don’t know,” Robin said. “It’s been a fucked-up day as it is. I don’t think I can handle this too. I’m sorry.”
“Well, how about we look at it tomorrow? Together?”
“Maybe,” Robin said. “But what are your plans tomorrow and, y’know, after?”
“That’s not an easy question to answer,” Sarah said, moving her hand self-consciously to the small bump under her baggy top.
Robin waited for more of an explanation but it didn’t come.
“Would you mind if I went to bed?” Sarah finally said, bustling back out of the room and leaving Robin to hurriedly shut the door firmly again, lest some stray memories burst out after them.
FORTY-TWO
SARAH|PRESENT DAY
We’re sleeping in the same room for the first time in years. Top and tail. Twenty years have dissolved and we’re jammed together in a sleepover. All that’s missing is Callum.
Robin’s smelly little feet are in my face, and both our heads are filled with ten thousand crazy stories. I need to add one more. She asked earlier what my plans are, and I know my sister—she’ll be filling in the gaps herself.
So I take a deep breath and tell her what happened with Jim, about the list. I tell her wide eyes again and again that I’d never hurt a child. That he’d misunderstood and misread everything and that I’d not helped myself. That it was the perfect storm. I tell her I need somewhere to stay.
“If Jim finds out too soon about the baby, I’ll have no hope. But if Jim knows at the right time, he’ll feel differently. He’ll listen to my side because he’ll have to. But he can only know when it’s too late, you know? When I’m too far gone and there’s no going back. And then he’ll have to let me see Violet too. He can’t keep siblings apart. God knows we can’t let that happen again. Maybe he’d even let me bring her up here to stay. And then—”
I slow down, not wanting to get ahead of myself. Robin says nothing.
“I just need to get myself straight before I try to get Violet. You have money. I know, I know, that’s gross of me, but I’d rather be honest and ask outright—”
Robin, propped up on a pillow, holds up her hand to stop me. Pulls at her dark curls.
“You can have any money you need,” she says. “But, Sarah, this is so fucked up.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I just don’t understand what you’re asking from me. We’ve not spoken in years and we have no idea what’s happening in each other’s lives. How do you see this working? What are you actually saying? Do you want to live here? Do you want me to write you a check? Do you want me to talk you out of this?”
If she doesn’t understand this, how can she understand the next part of the plan?
“I just need help to make a life for Violet to come back into. And I need some support, from the only person I’ve ever really had support from.” My voice cracks. “You’re stronger and tougher than me and always have been. You know why I am the way I am. You know I’d never hurt a child, never hurt anyone. I don’t expect Jim to believe me just like that, but there’s no way he’ll even hear me out on my own.”
“So you want to stay with me while you get straight?”
“Yes. I mean, I’d love to.” My heart soars. My sister. I knew she’d help.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Robin starts, and the caution in her voice chills me. “I mean, you think it’s best if you hide up here while you’re pregnant, but then you’ll spring it on Jim that you’re having his baby and want to try to get custody of the daughter he thinks you hurt?”
“When you say it like that, it sounds crazy, but…” My smile fades.
“It is fucking crazy, Sarah. It’s the kind of crazy that would get anyone’s kid taken away. You won’t get custody like that, but I don’t think you’re talking about formal routes. You must realize I won’t help you snatch your daughter.”
“Well, what would you do, then, Robin? What would you do in my situation?”