Page 99 of Musical Games
The toothpick snapped. Years of insecurity and anger burst out. ‘Have you all been talking about me behind my back?’
‘No, it’s not like that—’
‘Then what is it like? Am I such a continual fuckup that you need to discuss how to manage me?’
Esther’s mouth hung open.
‘He didn’t want this,’ Sam continued. ‘And he didn’t want me. I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Do you think you’re a fuckup?’ Esther asked.
Sam stabbed at the table with the broken toothpick. ‘Of course I am. You know just how much of a monumental triple chocolate cluster of a fuckup I am.’
‘How on earth did you come to that conclusion?’
Sam sat back and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Come on, Esther, I know what you all think of me and my life choices.’
‘Really?’
Her sister let the word hang in the air.
‘So, tell meexactlywhat we think of you and your life choices then.’
Sam took a breath in, but her throat tightened; it didn’t want her to vocalise the pain inside. She shook her head and looked at the tablecloth as it moved in and out of focus.
‘Do you want to know whatIthink of you and your “life choices”?’ her sister continued.
Sam was silent.
‘I speak for Anna and Mum and Dad as well, as I know they thinkexactlythe same as me.’
Sam didn’t look up. The tablecloth was becoming liquid.
‘We’re in complete awe of you,’ said Esther. ‘You’re incredible. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met and we’re stupidly proud of you. Honestly, the things you do scare the shit out of me. I could never in a million years do what you do.’
Sam blinked hot tears onto her hands. ‘You’re a fuckingbrainsurgeon, Esther.’
‘Ugh. That’s easy.’
Sam looked up. ‘What?’
‘Did you ever consider that Anna and I took the easy option?’
Now it was Sam’s mouth that hung open in shock.
‘Mum and Dad were doctors. We grew up with that template. For the most part, what we do is black and white. You follow a manual, a set of instructions, rules. As long as you remember what to do, it’s easy.’
Sam shook her head.
‘It is. The hardest part of my job is the sideshow bullshit. The politics, misogyny, underfunding. All that nonsense. But I don’t have to keep looking for work every day. I don’t have my worth based on my appearance, or whether I’m flavour of the month or not. I don’t have to bare my soul to the world.’
Esther shuddered.
‘I know I’m good at my job,’ she continued, ‘and I’m used to speaking to people. But this paper I just gave – having to stand in front of a room of smug men and prove myself? Good god, Sam. I was in the toilet all morning and had to take beta blockers just to hold it together. I’d happily cut the top off someone’s head twenty times a day rather than have to do that again.’
Esther sighed and reached across the table, her palm raised. Sam placed her hand on hers.
‘We often don’t know the right thing to say because we don’t know anything about your world and it’s so bloody alien to us. But believe me, we love you completely and couldn’t be more proud. Did you know Dad refers to Ian as “that bastard Berresford”?’
