Page 83 of If I Could Say Goodbye
A wet piece of material lands on my face. I pull it off and there in all her glory is Nessa, standing completely naked and downing the rest of her beer.
‘Come on. Look, I promise not to make a pass at you.’
My eyebrows shoot up.
‘Perfect!’ she stretches her arms wide and gestures to the radio which has started playing the ‘Macarena’. ‘Now strip.’ I find that I’m smirking as Ness’s boobs start to jiggle with her arm movements. ‘How do you ever expect to get better if you don’t learn to live a bit?’ she shouts at me over her shoulder, jumping up and down and turning to the side.
I laugh and look over to Kerry, but she is nowhere to be seen. Maybe this is the key? Maybe being happy is what I need. Self-consciously I begin unhooking my bikini top and let it drop into the pool and then, covering my breasts with one hand, I pull off my bottoms. Nessa is crossing her chest with her arms in an ‘x’, then placing her hands onto her hips before ‘Heeeeey . . . Macarena’.
‘Hurry up, Jen!’
Gingerly, I stand, one arm still across my boobs, the other hand fig-leafed across my lower parts.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Nessa takes two steps towards me and pulls my arms apart, dropping them to my sides, then returns to her Macarena, one hand then the other either side of her head, hands crossing onto shoulders.
I reach down, drain the last of my beer and burp loudly before hesitantly joining in. Laughter bubbles up from my stomach as we jump in tandem, splashes of water erupting out of the pool. Nessa winks at me as she swivels her hips. The song finishes and we collapse back into the pool, water sloshing over the edges as we lean back, still laughing. Kerry is still nowhere to be seen. I begin to panic. The laughter gets caught in my throat; the lime in the beer bottle.
Nessa leans forward, laughter sliding into concern. ‘What’s wrong?’
I stand, my inhibitions lost as I try to see her.
‘She’s gone! I can’t find her!’ Panic claws at my insides, scraping and grappling to get out. Oh, God, what have I done? The tablets must be working: I’ve killed her again.
‘Hey! Lady Godiva!’
I turn a full circle at the sound of her voice. Kerry is sitting on the top of Erica’s slide, her plait falling across her naked chest, her bare legs crossed at the ankles. My body sags with relief, my legs buckle and I’m kneeling in the water, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I try to control the feelings inside; choked sobs fall from my lips as Nessa slides over to me, arm around my shoulders. ‘Hey, shush, what’s wrong? What is it?’
I don’t know how to answer her, though, because I don’t know how to describe how I’m feeling. Am I happy that she’s back or not? Should I be? How can I make this decision? Kill my sister, or lose my family? I rest my head on Nessa’s shoulder as my naked dead sister slides down the slide. She misquotes fromTop Gun, asking Goose to talk to her as she smiles, climbing into the pool to join us.
‘I don’t want to lose you again,’ I say.
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Nessa replies.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ed
I’m multitasking. It’s not my favourite thing to do. The kids’ dinner is cooking, the front door is wide open so I can hear them, and I’m simultaneously contorting my body into a shape that it shouldn’t be contorted into while I search for Oscar’s snake – Sammy – in the footwell of my car.
‘Fuck!’ My knuckles have just grazed against something sharp beneath the seat.
‘Daaaadddyyyy!!’ Hailey is shouting from the doorway and I pull my body back out of the arch it’s contorted into, registering as I do that the smoke alarm is going off.
Fishfingers. Burnt fishfingers.
I send Hailey up the stairs with a tea towel and instruct her to flap it beneath the alarm, while Oscar is covering his tear-stained face with his hands as I push past him, pulling open the oven door where smoke pours out. I go to retrieve the oven tray with another tea towel but there are none in the drawer.
‘Why are there no tea towels?!’ I shout, as I start pulling dusters and dishcloths out of the drawer. ‘I mean, is it too much to ask? That when you open the drawer that is supposed to have tea towels in, that there are actual tea towels in there?!’ The alarm continues to shriek as I take out the tray with a dishcloth, burning my hand as I do. The tray skitters across the draining board as I curse under my breath. ‘Hailey! Shut that damn thing up!’ I turn the cold tap on full and wince as it hits the angry red welt that is emerging across my palm. I sigh loudly, my shoulders hunching over the sink as I close my eyes and try to control the confusion inside.
I’m not a man prone to mood swings. I’m the man at work that they send to deal with a difficult client: I don’t get rattled; I don’t lose my cool. But right now? My cool is well and truly lost.
The alarm stops and Hailey’s feet pound down the stairs. A hiccupping sound comes from behind me. I turn my head to where Oscar is crying: he turns to Hailey as she comes into the room, wafting the smoke away with her hand; his face seeks reassurance from her, my daughter’s arm wraps around his tiny frame, her eyes meet mine with a look of distrust. It’s a look normally saved for Jen.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, turning off the tap and kneeling down in front of them, pulling their bodies towards me. ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper.’ I kiss the tops of their heads, Oscar’s body hiccupping from inside his chest. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say again, kissing harder this time. ‘We must have left Sammy at Aunty Nessa’s. Let’s go and get a McDonald’s and then fetch him, OK?’
Oscar sniffs and wipes away his snot with the back of his hand as Hailey watches my face cautiously.
