Warring with myself whether I should show up to see them lay my mother in the ground, her body buried in mud, as they had done with Eric’s, I felt bile travel up my throat.

I couldn’t face it; it would be the end of me. Not another funeral so soon after Eric’s! I envisaged the white flowers, lilies no doubt, strewn over the white coffin that I knew Anita would’ve chosen. And the people and their sad, pitying faces. No. I couldn’t. I was being selfish, but it would kill me…

I continued to debate with myself, as if there was going to be a different outcome each time, anxiety building. Telling myself that I should get up now or miss the ceremony. But instead I just lay in my bed, numb. Tears poured down my face, frozen against the time that continued to tick by.

I awoke to the sound of loud footsteps thudding up the stairs, and for brief second, hope entered my head. Harvey? But a lurid calling of my name brought a quick end to that. Anita came into the room, fists clenched by her sides. There was fury and determination in her steps.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” she yelled.

My head pounded, and I winced from the pain. “Lower your voice, Anita,” I said, my voice coming out as a croak. “I have a migraine.”

My words seemed to infuriate her more. “Keep it down? Do you even hear yourself, Sara?”

“Please,” I begged.

“You have some fucking nerve. Why didn’t you come to the funeral?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to go, Anita,” I said, rubbing one of my temples. “Not another one.” It was self-preservation, I failed to add, knowing she’d never understand. She’d never had to deal with anything but light in her life.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” my sister continued, ignoring my request to lower her voice. “Do you think it was easy on us? Easy on me?”

“I never said that. This is not about you, Anita. I couldn’t handle the grief.”

Anita stared at me as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You don’t see me giving up, do you? I have kids to look after. I can’t afford to crumble, Sara.”

I shook my head and sent locks of hair flying across my face. I brushed them away. “I’m not as strong as you, Anita. I’m different; we’ve both known that since we were little. I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders, I absorb the pain, and you just brush it off—water off a duck’s back.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Grow up! I can’t look after you and my family and everyone else, too. I’m not some superwoman, Sara.”

“I’m not asking you to look after me!” I yelled, surprised at my own voice. It was stronger now than it had ever been. “I never have. You just choose to think everyone needs you. Well, I don’t!”

She gasped at the words I’d spoken, and my head reeled with pain from the noise I’d inflicted upon it. Anita threw up her hands and turned on her heels without another word. I stared after her receding back, finally feeling like I was finally making some progress in my life.

12

Harvey

Loud screaming sounded through the brick walls and greeted me as I stood at the front door. If it weren’t for Sara, I would’ve turned my back on this drama-fuelled nightmare of a family. I was a glutton for punishment, though; I just couldn’t keep away from her.

The others weren’t worth my time. Fuck knows how my father put up with it, I thought. Mind, I’ve never understood him, anyway. He let my skank of a mother walk all over him; why should his new family be any different? I should give him a break, though. He’s never really been lucky in love, and now that Victoria was gone, the twins were all he had left. Well, except for me.

Angry voices continued to echo down the stairs as I let myself into Sara’s house. The moment I stepped inside I knew that something was wrong. This wasn’t the typical sisterly screaming match I’d grown accustomed to.

I wandered towards the kitchen instead of going straight upstairs. I wanted to give Sara some room to stick up for herself. Stacks of plates covered the sink. The repulsive smell of a full bin, neglected, wafted in the air. I backed away from the odour and walked into the living room, gritting my teeth as Anita continued to hurl abuse at her sister.

Lines of photos decorated the white walls. The bright faces of Sara and Eric and the memory of their grins and laughter echoed throughout the whole room. During the last few years, she had always made it her mission to tell everyone that this was her favourite part of the house, where she was surrounded by photographic memories. But something had never felt quite right when Eric was alive. Sara always seemed on edge, her eyes flickering to her husband’s every time she uttered a single syllable, as if she were looking for his approval. Or gauging his reaction—studying him as if he were a kettle on the boil.

A sudden ache blossomed in my chest as I viewed their wedding photo at the centre of the display. There was a tiny part of me that didn’t like seeing Sara with any man. I couldn’t imagine her enfolded in Eric’s arms, or any man’s at all. Or maybe I just didn’t want to.

The only arms that should be wrapped round her body were mine. She’d invited me into her bed the other night, and god only knows I never wanted to leave it. I wondered if she remembered as clearly as I did. The room was dark, making it feel that if something happened, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because it would be absorbed into the blackness of the night, never to be spoken of again. My legs and arms had covered her own; I held her body tight, close, and contained against my muscular chest. Her curvaceous bottom filled up the empty space between us, pressing into my groin, demanding attention.

I’d struggled to control myself, wanting nothing more than to strip her naked and take away all the pain she was feeling. Make her feel like there was some light at the end of the tunnel of this dreadful year. But I’d gone too far, lost myself in her warm scent. She’d fallen asleep, and I couldn’t resist brushing my lips against the back of her bare neck, tasting her for the first time.

She’d moaned softly. My dick reacted as if it was the most natural thing on earth to do. I did it again, and her breath suddenly changed tempo, no longer the smooth intakes you hear when someone’s in deep sleep, but controlled, tense, alert… Sara woke and my heart pounded, reverberating against her back as I waited for her reaction.

I shouldn’t have kissed her again.

I shook the thought aside and chuckled beneath my breath. What was I worrying about, anyway? Sara was not my type. It was only natural for a man to react in such a way while lying in bed with a woman—wasn’t it? Of course it was.

Yes. Sara will never be my type. She’s the complete opposite of what I want.

More shouting from above caught my attention. Enough was enough. I’d given Sara enough time to grow a backbone and stand up to her sister. I reached the stairs and took the steps in two as I climbed until I reached the brash, angry voices.

I craned my head to hear Anita screaming at Sara. Her tone was harsh and cruel, and I didn’t like it one bit.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” Anita called out.

My hands balled into a pair of fists, and I saw a flash of red. Why Anita caused this reaction in me I don’t know. Or maybe it was more obvious than that… maybe it wasn’t Anita at all that was provoking the reaction, maybe it was Sara.

Finally, Sara shouted back, and I smiled.

Anita came storming out of Sara’s room, her footsteps loud and livid. Behind her the door slammed shut, and the click of a lock sounded.