Sisters and Lies Read online

  ‘Mammy,’ I whispered, the name forming on my tongue before I was even conscious of it. I remembered the stories from the First World War. How the young boys had called for their mothers as they lay dying on the fields of Flanders. Had Evie called for our mother as she had crashed? I turned to the doctor again, knowing she wouldn’t have the answer, but she had already walked away.

  Another taxi driver, another streetscape, this time towards Evie’s apartment.

  Evie lived in Woolwich – quite near the hospital, in fact – in a tiny flat purchased with the proceeds from our mother’s estate. It hadn’t covered everything, but it had left Evie with a manageable mortgage, which was important since her day job, as a journalist for a business magazine, paid peanuts. All the same, I knew she felt guilty that she was in some way benefiting from our mother’s death.

  ‘Nobody thinks that,’ I’d reassured her after visiting the place for the first time. ‘In any case, you minded Mammy for that whole year she was sick. She wanted you to have something to fall back on.’ I paused for a second, touching her lightly on the shoulder. ‘She might be concerned about the cosmetic surgery, though.’

  Evie drew away, casting me an angry look. ‘Oh, fuck off, Rachel. That’s none of your business.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’m worried about you. Since Mammy went, you seem to be overly concerned with –’

  ‘With what?’

  ‘With your appearance.’

  ‘This from the prettiest girl in Leitrim. What right do you have to be lecturing me about what I do or don’t do with my body? You’ve always had it easy!’

  ‘I haven’t,’ I muttered.

  ‘Yes, you have. Your little Audrey Hepburn features. Your tiny figure. And, by the way, the tattoos and blokey clothes are fooling nobody.’

  I put my hand to my face, an attempt to stave off Evie’s invisible blows. She was right, people did call me pretty – but only because I looked different from other Irish people: sallow skin, brown eyes, very dark hair. That didn’t mean my life was perfect, though. Not the way Evie thought. ‘I’m not trying to fool anybody,’ I shouted. ‘I dress the way I do because I like it. Same goes for the tattoos. And as for my figure, you know I’ve always been a beanpole. It’s not a lifestyle choice.’

  ‘Oh, how convenient!’ Evie roared. ‘Well, some of us aren’t as genetically blessed as you, Rachel. The truth is, you feel threatened now I’m no longer the Ugly Duckling of the family. Now that I’m finally taking back some control.’

  ‘Oh, for fuck sake! Would you listen to yourself?’ Because I didn’t feel threatened, I felt scared. Our mother had just died and now Evie was on some bizarre mission to reinvent herself. As if at some subconscious level she thought it would help somehow. As if it was going to bring Mammy back …

  As the taxi sped towards Evie’s place, I tried to ring her flatmate, Janet, to warn her of my arrival, but there was no answer, so I was forced to leave a message on her voicemail. Did she know about the accident? About this Donnagh character? Would she mind me bedding down for a few nights – who knew how long? – while Evie was in hospital?

  Once we got there, I buzzed the intercom a few times, but got no reply. Then I tried Janet’s phone again. Still no answer. Finally, I rooted round in my handbag and withdrew a set of keys, which Evie had given me when she’d first bought the place.

  ‘Mi casa es tu casa,’ she’d said, attaching a fluffy pink key ring to them. That was the thing about Evie. She’d lash out one minute, and be the best of friends the next. ‘An artistic temperament,’ my mother had said. Exhausting, I’d secretly thought.

  I pushed the key into the front door of the block, letting myself into the hallway, which was full of bicycles and junk mail scattered everywhere. There was no lift, so I took the large stairway, not quite able to jump them two at a time as I had done in the hospital.

  I arrived at the front door of Evie’s flat, staring at the canary yellow colour she’d painted it. Normally it made me laugh – Evie would rather die than be conventional – but today all I felt was sadness. How could my beautiful sister have wound up in this situation? How could things have gone so wrong?

  I knocked once, to make sure that Janet wasn’t there. Then, when I got no response, I pushed the key into the lock and turned it.

  I had just dropped my bag onto the floor when I felt a presence near me. I looked up to see a tall, dark-haired man standing directly opposite. ‘Donnagh?’ I said, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Rachel, Evie’s sister.’

  ‘I suppose you’d better come in.’

  3.

  I couldn’t figure out why Evie had told neither of us about the other. ‘So you’re saying Evie insisted she was an only child?’ It made no sense.

  ‘Well, she didn’t insist exactly,’ Donnagh explained, in a strange transatlantic accent. ‘She just said she had no brothers or sisters. And I didn’t question it.’

  ‘Weird,’ I muttered, clutching a mug of coffee. ‘This is all so weird.’

  ‘Yeah, it is,’ he said, clasping his mug equally tightly. His forehead creased into a frown. ‘How did the doctors say she was? Has there been any improvement since I was in there this morning?’

  ‘No,’ I said. Who the hell was he? Why had Evie been driving his car?

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, when I asked him that exact question. ‘I was asleep in bed when she took it.’

  ‘You were what?’

  ‘It was late at night. I didn’t even hear her leaving the flat. Honestly, Rachel, I haven’t a clue why she would take my car. I didn’t even know she could drive …’

  I stared at him, his words swimming in my brain. He sounded plausible, but could I trust him? Why was he in my sister’s apartment? Didn’t he have his own place?

  ‘I used to,’ he said, in a subdued voice. ‘But unfortunately it was flooded recently. Eve offered to let me stay here for a couple of weeks while it was being repaired. It wasn’t like we were moving in as a couple or anything. It was just a temporary arrangement.’

  ‘And what about Janet?’ I butted in. ‘What did she have to say about all this?’

  ‘Janet?’ Donnagh said, staring at me blankly. ‘Sorry, I don’t think I’ve heard of her.’

  How could he not know who Janet was? Janet was Evie’s best friend, the first pal she’d made when she’d arrived in London and by far her closest. She’d known about the nose job and about Mammy’s death and had even called her ‘Evie’, just like me, not subscribing to this ‘Eve’ nonsense.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rachel, I’ve never heard of her,’ Donnagh repeated, leaning back in his chair. As he did so I noticed a small, surgical bandage on the underside of his neck.

  ‘Hurt yourself?’ I asked, pointing at it.

  He shrugged. ‘Just a shaving nick.’

  ‘Must have been a pretty big razor,’ I said, ‘to inflict that kind of damage.’

  ‘It was blunt and may have been used on a lady’s legs shortly beforehand.’ He smiled weakly. ‘Not that I’d ever complain about such a thing.’

  We were silent for a moment, the image of Evie defuzzing her legs with Donnagh’s razor at once too frivolous and too intimate for this sombre environment.

  After a few seconds, Donnagh looked at me again. ‘I’m sorry, Rachel, I guess you must be confused as hell right now, given you didn’t even know I existed until an hour or so ago. Do you want me to bring you up to speed? Start from the beginning, I mean.’

  ‘The beginning?’ I repeated. ‘Yes, I suppose that makes sense.’

  ‘Fine. Well, I suppose the obvious place to start is where we first met.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Eve interviewed me for the business magazine she works for, Business Matters. She was profiling me.’

  ‘Profiling you?’

  ‘Yes. I’m the CEO of a construction company – well, of the European wing anyway.’

  ‘So you’re a high-flier?’<
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  He shrugged. ‘My uncle founded the main company, back in the States, so really I’m just the result of nepotism.’ He attempted a smile but I couldn’t bring myself to return it. ‘Anyway, my job is to look after our European projects and drum up new business over here.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, taking in his large, smooth hands and his handsome face. He didn’t look like a man who spent his days tramping round building sites. More like someone off a Calvin Klein ad.

  ‘But back to Evie. How long have you known each other? I’ve been away in Australia and New Zealand for the last six weeks so I realize I’m out of the loop but, still, I’m surprised Evie didn’t mention you.’

  ‘Well, to be fair, it did all happen very quickly,’ he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his mobile phone. ‘Let me see,’ he said. ‘Eve interviewed me on … Yes, here it is. The sixth of June, so that was what? Around eight weeks ago?’

  ‘Yeah, about that.’

  ‘And after that things went fast. We started dating within a week –’

  ‘Living together within six,’ I interrupted.

  ‘Yes,’ said Donnagh, meeting my gaze. ‘I can see that might come across as a bit sudden.’

  I nodded. ‘Quite frankly, it does.’

  ‘Okay, so here’s what happened,’ Donnagh said, lacing his fingers together and pushing himself forwards in his chair. ‘We’d been seeing each other for about five weeks when, as I mentioned earlier, my apartment was flooded. I was informed renovations would take less than a month and, though I probably shouldn’t have, I asked Eve if I could temporarily move in with her.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, on a practical level, this flat is quite near my office, plus I hated the idea of a soulless hotel.’

  ‘So far, so handy for you.’

  Donnagh glanced up, a wounded look on his face. ‘It wasn’t like that, Rachel. I was in shock. My home had been wrecked, along with most of my possessions. And I felt something with Eve.’

  ‘Meaning what exactly?’

  ‘There was a connection. An intensity. I felt quite vulnerable at the time. I know it sounds stupid but I think I wanted her to take care of me.’

  Something welled up in my throat, making it difficult for me to speak. ‘Fair enough,’ I said quietly. I knew that feeling of vulnerability. Of needing love.

  Donnagh straightened in his chair. ‘Look, I know there can be no question of me staying here now. I’ll move into a hotel, but please let me know if there’s anything I can do – to help, I mean.’ He pulled out a business card and thrust it into my hand.

  ‘Um, okay,’ I said, my head spinning. ‘Will that be inconvenient for you? How long have you got left with the renovations?’

  ‘Oh, it’s run on, of course. It’ll be another few weeks, but don’t worry about that. I’ll find a hotel.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I’ll come back tonight and collect my stuff, if that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, my mind whirring.

  ‘I’m really sorry but I have to go now – I must put in an appearance at the office. They have no idea that any of this has happened.’

  ‘Do your colleagues know Evie exists?’

  ‘Some do. We’ve been at a few events together. But they have no idea she’s been involved in a car crash.’

  ‘Will you tell them?’

  Donnagh’s shoulders seemed to slump. ‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not sure I’ve told myself yet.’

  At the door, Donnagh reminded me he would be back later in the evening. ‘I’m so sorry about all of this, Rachel. I know you probably blame me, given that Eve was driving my car. But you must believe this: I cared deeply for your sister. I’m devastated this has happened.’

  ‘Are you?’ I snapped, raising my eyes to meet his.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I am.’

  I watched his retreating back as he made for the front door, my mind racing with questions: could I trust him? Had he been honest?

  There seemed to be so much as yet unexplained, so many gaps in the picture he’d just painted. But then I thought of his sad eyes, the reference to Evie using his razor. I’d wanted to dislike him but, instinctively, I felt he was telling the truth.

  As I walked out of the building’s main entrance my phone rang.

  ‘Rachel, it’s Janet. I just got your message. Jesus Christ, is she okay?’

  ‘Not really. She’s in a coma. When did you move out?’

  ‘A few months back. Didn’t she tell you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you know she had a boyfriend?’

  ‘No.’

  Janet hesitated, then said, ‘Can you make it as far as Greenwich High Road? I’m off today – we could meet for coffee.’

  ‘That would be great.’

  ‘Will we say that sandwich place Evie likes, the one with the pink wallpaper? Around half twelve?’

  I looked at my watch – I had twenty minutes. ‘I’ll be there.’

  4.

  When I arrived, Janet was already standing in the queue. We embraced and she asked me what I wanted. ‘Anything, I don’t care,’ I said.

  She nodded, then gestured to two seats that had just become available in the far corner. ‘Nab them.’ A few minutes later she placed something wrapped in cellophane in front of me. ‘How are you, hen?’ she asked, gently touching my arm.

  ‘I’m okay,’ I said, and immediately disproved it by emitting a huge sob.

  She pushed her chair back and came over to me. ‘Come here,’ she said, giving me a hug. ‘Let it all out.’

  I let some of it out, but it was a public place and I didn’t want to make a complete show of myself. After a couple of seconds I withdrew and she handed me a packet of Kleenex from her handbag.

  After I had mopped myself up, I explained what the doctor had told me about Evie’s condition. And about the mysterious Donnagh.

  ‘Who is he?’ Janet said, between mouthfuls of her cheese and pickle sandwich.

  ‘Haven’t a clue, save what I’ve just told you.’

  ‘Haven’t you looked him up yet?’

  ‘No,’ I said, pointing to my ancient phone. ‘No internet connection.’

  ‘Jesus, Rachel. How do you survive without a smartphone?’ Janet rustled in her handbag and withdrew a swishy mobile. ‘Is it some writer thing? Afraid it’ll interfere with the creative process?’

  Actually, it was because Jacob had given me my phone – for my birthday years earlier – and I couldn’t bear to part with it. But I didn’t feel like going into all that.

  ‘Okay, so how do you spell his name?’ Janet continued.

  I told her. For the next few minutes, she didn’t say anything, just flipped through pages on the screen, deep in concentration. ‘Right,’ she said, looking up. ‘As far as I can tell, he was born in Dublin but left Ireland for the US as a teenager.’ She flicked the phone round so I could look at the screen. ‘He’s a partner in a company called Hibernian Constructions owned by his uncle Sean. He heads up the European division. I’ll send you the link if you think you can find a computer to read it on.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. Evie had a laptop in her bedroom. Not that the link sounded particularly useful – Donnagh had already given me most of this information during our chat.

  ‘I can’t believe Evie didn’t tell you about him,’ Janet continued, picking at her sandwich.

  ‘I was about to say the same to you.’

  Janet raised her head slowly, a deep blush spreading across her face.

  ‘Jesus, Janet, what’s going on? Donnagh said he’d never heard of you. Did something happen between you and Evie?’

  ‘I suppose you could say that,’ she said.

  ‘So tell me.’

  Janet coughed. ‘Well, we had a falling-out about four months ago and we haven’t spoken since.’

  ‘Was it serious?’

  She didn’t meet my eye. ‘Pretty serious.’

 
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Should I press her for more details? In general, I’m a great believer in boundaries, respecting people’s private lives, but not today. ‘Janet, come on, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on here. My sister is lying in a coma, and there’s a stranger in her house who claims not to know who I am. Please, throw me a bone.’

  ‘She’ll kill me for saying anything. You know how much she looks up to you.’

  Actually I didn’t.

  ‘There was this thing with my boyfriend.’

  ‘You have a boyfriend?’

  ‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ she said, but she smiled shyly. ‘We met at work. He’s a teacher too. Anyway, one night I walked in on Evie with her top off, trying to seduce him.’

  ‘O-kay,’ I said, thinking the most obvious thing: that it takes two to tango.

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Rach,’ she said, intuiting my thought process. ‘Patrick is useless around women. It took him ages to work up the courage to talk to me, and we work side by side. He couldn’t seduce a dead cat, let alone a woman like Evie.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Afterwards, I had it out with Evie but, of course, she denied everything. Said he’d come on to her, that it was borderline assault, and I’d be better off without him.’

  ‘Christ almighty, why would she do such a thing?’

  ‘Because she was jealous, I guess.’

  ‘But that doesn’t sound like the Evie I know. She’d never lie about something so serious.’

  Janet played with her sandwich for a moment, then looked up at me. ‘You haven’t really seen much of Evie this past year, have you?’ The way she phrased it didn’t sound like an accusation, more a statement of fact.

  ‘I suppose not,’ I muttered.

  ‘You’ve been busy. Evie told me. All your book success. Congratulations on that, by the way. She also said you and Jacob were trying for a baby.’

  ‘Did she now?’

  ‘Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to know that, was I? Anyway, my point is, you’ve probably spoken on the phone more than seen each other in real life. Would I be right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Look, I’m not trying to be horrible. I know you’re going through hell at the moment. But Evie was going through some stuff too.’