CHAPTER 1
“For Christ’s sake, Siá¢n, we’ll not get there in time! She’s going to be on her own!”

“Yeah, but she’ll have Arris there, aye?”

“Yes, but this is make or break time, na?”

My wife came out of the bathroom, a mascara brush still in her hand, one eye unmarked.

“Darling sweetest cariad, shut the fuck up or she’ll hear”

“And well? I told you what I thought, aye? Sar isn’t someone you push into things”

She smiled. “Which is why we just let her see what’s there, aye? And she’s a girl of sense and understanding, so she’ll see the right way, aye?”

I leant back against the bathroom wall, head resting on the light switch.

“Cariad, last time nearly broke her”

My love came to me, face down, the light scattering through the bright colour of her hair, and rested her head on my breast.

“Lainey, love, we both know this is right, aye? This is a good man. This is something that should… shit, you know what I mean. Look, this doesn’t need to be yes or no, aye? Just let her see she has a choice”

“Aye, I know, my love, but this is family. This is mine”

Softly. “Ours”

I kissed her. “Ours. Come on, move and shake, aye?”

It had been a long, long drive, Siá¢n feeding me bits of chocolate as we drove, quiet moments staring over cups of bad coffee in various M4 services, we were rolling down the steep hill past Lydden Circuit and then, finally, up to the bit of hard standing outside Sar’s place. My shoulders were in a clench, and my right thigh ached from the constant motorway driving. Siá¢n noticed.

“Rub it better later? Those Yanks, we need one of their cruise controls, aye? Save your legs?”

“Then I get no rubbing better?”

She grinned. “Don’t need an excuse…”

I creaked out of the car while I still could as my wife dragged out the bags from the boot. Arris’ car was there already, and as I shambled towards the door it opened. My sister stood there, and if I had had any doubts about what we were doing, it ended there. The only word available to me was ‘drained’. She dragged out a smile for us, though.

“Found a band on tonight, girls, down the sports club. Got your dancing shoes?”

Not really, Sar, but never mind. I realised she had probably forgotten exactly how long a drive it was, not having done it for so bloody long. She clung onto her smile.

“Tea?”

I laughed. “You really need to ask? Tea!”

In for five minutes only, it seemed, before we were being pushed to get changed again for the gig.

“Sar, why do we need to change? I mean, we’re not on the pull, are we?”

She was already in her own posing kit, all leather pelmet and pointy boots, and as she stood before me, hands on hips, mock-glowering, I had a small moment when I saw Sam peeking out from her eyes, and I realised I could hardly remember my brother, for Sarah was just so, so right in her skin.

She gave me her best Paddington stare.

“Are you sure you are a woman?”

That startled me, chiming with my thoughts about the boy who never was, but my wife broke the mood.

“I’m sure she’s a woman, Sar. I’d have noticed otherwise”

Arris came in just then, in some amazing boots, and… I had to remember my words about not being on the pull. I covered a pair of bulging eyes as she bent over, denim stretching in wonderful ways.

“For god’s sake, woman! Give a pair of old dykes some warning when you’re going to do that with your arse! Sarah, the restorative cuppa, please, my lady wife is taken with the vapours!”

The wife in question pulled my hand down for a better look, the sneaky cow, and then kissed my palm. Five minutes later, she sneaked out to send the confirmation text.

“Come on, love. Glad rags and handbags, got to be done, aye?”

Footpaths, high heels (I know, but it was just for the evening), arm in arm and Sarah showing some life again. Arris simply wouldn’t shut up about her kids, which hurt, especially as all she wanted to talk about was how great it was NOT to have them with her. Siá¢n nodded to me at one point, Sarah scanning the road as we crossed, and her phone was in her hand. I wasn’t sure which of us my little sister would want to kill, but her slow death couldn’t be allowed to continue. My wife is almost telepathic at times, and she just mouthed one word, silently.

“Ours”

It was a typical sports club, all widescreen and bar, but there was a dance floor of sorts, and the band weren’t bad. Sar took flight again, back in her natural environment, Arris grinning as she saw the life return to her best friend. I had an ambush from old memories, though, a night in Aberystwyth, two other girls with us and my sister so, so alive, more than she had ever been before. Once more, Siá¢n’s telepathy was at full power, and she broke the blackening mood with a kiss and a hug. I realised there was a bit more interest from some of the men than I really wanted, so I changed the subject my mind was hovering over.

“ETA?”

“Five minutes”

“She’ll kill us all, cariad”

“Nah, she can’t run fast enough in those boots. Ah. That him there?”

Aye, there he was. Arris had sent Sar for the drinks while she steered the big man around the crowd. A few words, a nod, and he bulked his way through the bar crowd. I got in close, just in case, as his hand came down on her shoulder, she turned, and sixteen different expressions fought for room on her face. She ended up bursting into tears, wrapping herself around him as if her life depended on being as close to him as clothing allowed. After a few seconds she turned to me, face glowing, eyes confused, and all I could manage to say was that he had obviously found her.

Talk about quick changes. She almost threw her purse at Tony, snarled out what drinks to get, and dragged Arris outside the club with a look that promised pain and mistreatment in the extreme. Out they went, Sar marching in obvious anger. I followed a little more slowly, to find her almost screaming at her friend, shaking in real anger, and then, as I arrived, Sar ranting about getting her life straight, she broke, ten years of shit coming out in tears and sobs.

I stepped in to hold my sister, and once more the memory of two lost girls came by.

““If you call the slow death you are living through ‘getting straight’, there are pigs flying out of Gatwick. And she hasn’t dragged others in, she has asked one rather nice one to say hello again. What you do after that is your call, but just think on this: if you didn’t want to talk to Tony, why did you just hand him all your money and credit cards?”

Arris was there too, almost incoherent in her apologies and declaration of love, but over her shoulder I saw my wife, hand in hand with the big man that we had hoped would heal our sister. What a bloody mess. Arris asked Sar if she wanted her to ask Tony to leave, but he disengaged and came over to us.

“She can do that herself, ladies. This is Sarah’s call. Perhaps we can talk together for a bit, see what she thinks?”

Sarah shuddered, and then glared and shook her head: go away for a bit. Tony handed over Sar’s bits and pieces with a grin, and I dragged Arris away.

“Leave her, girl. We can’t do this. Horses and water, aye? She has to do the hard bit on her own, or not at all. Bar, deliver their drinks, and leave them”

“What if it all goes even more tits up?”

I gave her my best copper’s grin.

“I’ll be in that window seat there, aye?”

“There’s someone sat there already”

“He’ll move. Trust me”

In the end, I had to give the seat up. Siá¢n took my place, as I couldn’t hold my emotions down any more. I watched them talk, relax, cuddle. I saw my sister coming back to more than a half-life. I needed to find somewhere private to cry. How I truly hated that bastard Joe, right then.

In the end, we danced, and he danced with us, or rather with her, and I saw something there, in both of them, an emptiness that matched, that I prayed would cancel itself out.

He came back for coffee. There were smiles, and hugs, but that night I couldn’t seem to stop crying as I lay with my sweet red-haired wife. Please, please, let this be an end and a beginning