Twelve

THE WHY

Three years, eight months ago

David continues to sit on the sofa while he scrolls through something on his phone.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?’ I say from the kitchen.

He doesn’t glance sideways as he keeps thumbing at the screen. ‘I thought I had,’ he says.

‘You don’t forget a sister,’ I say.

‘I suppose you never asked…’

The pan of rice is bubbling away and I lean on the counter as I stare across to him, waiting for him to turn. I wonder if we’re going to argue for the first time. We’ve had something of a honeymoon period since he moved in and this is the closest we’ve come to falling out. He told me he’d explain all about Yasmine on his return and, now he’s here, he has barely got off his phone.

‘How could I ask about a sister I didn’t know existed?’ I say.

David sighs and turns to look across at me. ‘Yasmine’s my older sister,’ he says with a shrug. ‘She moved to Kingbridge with me when I came across to go to uni.’

‘I don’t understand how, if she’s your sister – and you lived with her – she never came up in conversation. She knew about me.’

‘Back then, she couldn’t afford a place of her own and was still living with our parents. When I went back to university as a mature student, she moved in for a while as she got herself together.’

In the couple of months we’ve known one another, David and I have talked about our pasts. I know he comes from a village on the Kent coast, although the name fell from my mind almost as soon as he told me. I try to remember the specific conversations. I definitely mentioned I was an only child and I suppose that, because he didn’t say much in response, I assumed he was, too. I guess it’s true what they say about what assuming does.

‘We don’t really get on,’ David continues. ‘When we were living together, it was too close. It pushed us apart. She didn’t want to go back to our parents, but couldn’t afford to get her own place. I didn’t want to kick her out, so we ended up living in this sort of mutual… well, “hatred” is a strong word, but “dislike”, I suppose. Even though it was years ago, we never really made up. I don’t talk about her because I don’t see her.’

‘But she knew who I was…’

David reaches for the remote control and flicks on the TV. He starts to switch between channels. He seems completely uninterested in the conversation.

‘I don’t know why it’s a big deal,’ he says.

‘It’s not a big deal – but a total stranger came up to me and knew who I was. It turns out she’s your sister, even though I’ve never heard of her.’

‘I ran into her a week or so ago,’ he replies. ‘Just before I went away. We don’t get on, but it’s not like we’re enemies. We said hello, that sort of thing. She’s living with a boyfriend now. I said I’d moved in with someone wonderful – a trainer who hosted exercise classes. I figured that was it. I didn’t know that she’d visit you. I have no idea why she did.’

‘Wonderful’ sounds like deliberate overkill but it’s hard to ignore the surge in my stomach. Nobody’s ever described me like that before.

The boiling water has almost disappeared, so I turn off the heat and drain the pan. That done, I take the chicken from the oven and serve that and the rice onto a plate, before joining David on the sofa. He takes his food and starts to eat with a fork, while still channel-surfing with the other hand.

‘Do you have any other brothers or sisters I should know about?’ I ask. Any anger I might have had is fading fast.

‘No – it’s just Yasmine and me. Our parents died before I met you, so it’s literally just me and her.’ He has a mouthful and then puts his fork down on the plate. ‘We should probably be closer – but she has her life and I have mine. What will be will be, and all that.’

I don’t know how to reply. It’s not that I have any reason to disbelieve him but something doesn’t feel quite right.

He pauses and then adds: ‘You’re my family now.’

David stares across to me with such focus that it’s as if I can feel his loneliness. We’ve not really spoken about it properly but we stumbled across one another at a time where I think we both needed it.

‘Will it help if I talk to her?’ he adds.

‘What about?’

‘To ask why she came to your class?’

‘Just leave it,’ I say. ‘If she comes back, I can talk to her then. If she wants to be in contact with you, I suppose she will.’

He nods and has another bite of food. ‘Whatever you want,’ he says, before turning to me and smiling. ‘Anything for you.’