Page 80 of Lie For Me

Heather nodded in the darkness, sighed and pulled at the hairs on her eyebrow. Lucy noticed her hand shook a little. She took a deep drag on her cigarette and exhaled slowly. The acrid smell of the smoke drifted under Lucy’s nose before being carried away on the breeze.

‘Perhaps you weren’t,’ she hesitated, ‘completely wrong. It’s a lot, you know. It’s so busy. Relentless, actually. All the time. Being made partner is great,’ she paused. ‘but it’s a lot of pressure. The kids are hard work.’ She took another drag and shook her head. ‘Sorting childcare, swimming, tag rugby and music lessons for Thomas. All Mark and I do is work and fetch them from place to place.’ She took another draw on her cigarette and exhaled slow and long. ‘And then a weekend like this on top of everything. Sorting outfits, packing for them as well as me…sometimes I feel like there’s no room left for me in it all.’

The words hung in the air, mixed with the smoke from her cigarette.

Lucy looked at Heather, her strong, capable sister, silhouetted against the night lights in the garden. With her long neck, pale skin, and arm crooked holding her cigarette, a thin plume of smoke rising into the night sky, she looked like a star of a film noir. Heather looked, Lucy thought, tired and suddenly a few years older than she’d seemed earlier in the day.

Lucy stuck out her arm.

‘Champagne?’

Heather paused and looked at the bottle. Then, ‘Fuck yes,’ she said, and snatched it from Lucy.

Lucy laughed and leaned into her sister. Heather took a long swig from the bottle.

‘Smoke?’ Heather said, offering Lucy the packet.

‘Fuck no,’ Lucy laughed, shoving her gently. ‘Those things will kill you.’

Heather laughed and took another drag.

‘How does Mark not know?’ Lucy asked.

‘Oh, he knows.’ Heather nodded. ‘And he doesn’t like it. But he knows it’s only the odd one, or when I’m stressed. Which is a fair bit, I suppose,’ she said ruefully. ‘So long as it’s not every day, or in front of the kids, he doesn’t grumble—much. Makes a fuss about giving me a kiss if I’ve just had one, though.’

‘Eurrgh, you and Mark kiss? Is that how babies are made?’ Lucy said, poking her in the arm.

Heather giggled, a slightly alien sound for her, and it surprised them both.

‘Yes, we still kiss. Sometimes,’ she said. ‘Between work and school runs and laundry and homework and dinner and bath time and…’ She took a breath. ‘And breaking up fights and organising birthday parties, and buying presents for other people’s bloody kids’ birthday parties….’

‘And cigarettes,’ Lucy prompted.

‘Yes, between cigarettes.’

Heather turned to face her, her eyes gleaming in the darkness. Lights shone brightly from the party, and raucous shouts and laughter occasionally reached them as people tumbled in and out of the marquee.

She peered at Lucy.

‘What are you really doing down here, anyway? Hiding from mum?’

‘Hiding from you,’ Lucy retorted.

‘That went well then.’

Lucy laughed softly. A companionable silence fell. Heather smoked, and Lucy swigged champagne, and they leaned into one another. This was the longest they’d been alone in years.

‘Jack and I had a fight.’

It felt strange to say it out loud.

Heather sat quietly.

‘We haven’t ever had a fight before. Was my fault, I think,’ Lucy said in a small voice.

‘Probably,’ Heather said.

‘This is why I don’t tell you things. No support or sympathy whatsoever, when I—’

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