Paula chewed her lip for a moment, then said. “All right, you’ve twisted my arm. Maybe just one. A little one, mind you.”
“Why don’t you try your new blouse on?”
“Don’t be daft.”
“Go on. I want to see if it fits.”
“I can’t. I’ll feel silly.”
“No you won’t. You’ll look gorgeous. Go on, Paula, do it for me.”
“Well, I suppose it’ll go with my suit.” Muttering to herself, Paula disappeared upstairs and came down wearing the blouse. It was Thai silk, handmade, and a very delicate coral color. Paula wore it under a dull, off-the-peg cream suit. But that was Paula all over: Rodeo Drive blouse and C & A suit.
“There you are,” said Sarah. “You look great.”
Paula fingered the high collar. “It is nice... ”
“But?”
“Well, I can hardly wear it to work, can I?”
“I should hope not. It wasn’t meant for work. Don’t worry, there’ll be occasions. I just wanted to buy you something a bit frivolous, that’s all.”
Paula gave a long-suffering sigh. “It’s all very well for some. We can’t all afford to be frivolous, though. Some of us have responsibilities.”
“Oh, Paula, give it a rest.” Sarah felt squiffy enough to defy her big sister. She dug out the medicinal brandy and poured them each a healthy measure. “To family reunions,” she said, raising her glass.
Paula snorted.
Sarah slammed her glass down, breaking the stem and spilling brandy all over the coffee table. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded. “You don’t give a bloody inch, do you? Can’t you see I’m trying? I’m trying very hard. Do you hate me so much?”
“What do you mean?” said Paula, already wiping at the spill with a napkin. “Of course I don’t hate you. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Oh, leave it alone,” said Sarah, grasping Paula’s arm. Paula shook herself free and carried on mopping up. A spot of brandy stained the hem of her suit. Sarah got another glass from the cabinet and filled it close to the brim. “All the time I’ve been here you’ve done nothing but whine and moan,” she said. “I’m getting sick of it. If your life’s so bloody awful, do something about it.” The moment she had spoken, Sarah regretted the words, and her harsh tone, but it was already too late.
“What do you mean ‘do something about it’?” Paula shot back, color flashing to her cheeks. “As easy as that, is it? What do you suggest I do? Pack in my job? Dump the kids? And what about Dad? Do I just let him die? Maybe you don’t realize it, but someone’s got to look after this family, and it bloody well isn’t you.”
“You ungrateful bitch. I’ve offered you all the help I can and you just throw it all back in my face.”
“Help? That’s a good one. Money, that’s what you’ve offered. That’s all. Money. You can’t buy everything with money, you know.”
“If you weren’t so damn stubborn and proud you’d realize you can do a lot with money.”
“Like send Dad to a home?”
“Well let’s face it, that’d be one less burden for you, wouldn’t it?”
Paula shook her head. “A burden? You just don’t bloody understand, do you, Sal? Has all this high living turned your head so much you don’t even understand your family any more? Has America done this to you? You didn’t used to be so heartless.”
Sarah ran her hand over her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it. You just made me so angry.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Paula went on, “if you weren’t so obviously Dad’s favorite, no matter—”
“What did you say?”
“You heard.”
Sarah was suddenly conscious of the wind screaming outside, like some outcast creature in despair trying to get in. “But that’s ridiculous,” she said. “He hates me. Maybe not hates, but... Oh, he tolerates me, for appearance’s sake. After all, I am family. He’s polite. But he’s never forgiven me for not being what he wanted me to be, for that bloody sex scene, for Gary, the drugs, for moving to LA—”
“You stupid cow, can’t you see it? He adores you. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve embarrassed him or let him down, he still thinks the sun shines out of your arse.”
“But—”
“No, let me finish.” Paula sat forward and rested her hands on her knees. “It’s about time you heard a few home truths, little Miss High and Mighty. I’m not saying he puts no value on me, of course he does. I think he respects me. He certainly appreciates how I take care of him. He’s grateful. But he loves you. Can’t you see the difference?”
Sarah shook her head. “No.”
“Then you’re a fool. When you made those dirty films and then took off with that drug addict Gary Knox, you broke Dad’s heart. He thought he’d lost you forever. He’s a proud man and he’s used to being obeyed, so of course he cut you off. What would you expect of him? But I know what he really felt. Remember, I’ve lived with him all this time, heard him calling me by your name when he’s half asleep and afraid of dying, seen him looking at the phone, willing it to ring, waiting for the postman. I’ve seen the pride, the way his face lights up when he sees you walk on the screen.”
“But you said he didn’t watch the series. He said—”
“Of course he watches it. Every bloody Tuesday without fail. And if anything ever comes up to stop him, I have to tape it for him. Oh, Sal, I might have done all the right things in my life, even if they didn’t all work out. And there’s the kids, too, of course. Dad adores the kids. But you’re the one he loves most. You’re the one who took on the world and won. You’re the one who broke away. You’re the one with all the guts, the one who doesn’t give a damn what people think. You’re the star, the shining light. You’re the one he’s so bloody proud of he could burst.” She shook her head. Her face was flushed and her eyes were glittering with tears. “Don’t you ever try to convince me he doesn’t prefer you, because I know he does. He always has done. And that’s something I’ve just had to learn to live with.”
Suddenly, some of the old memories made sense to Sarah. Let’s bury Daddy in the sand, bedtime stories and, she remembered, he had taken her to the pictures when she was a little girl. She remembered him falling asleep during Fantasia at the Lyceum, and the woman next to them nudging him and telling him to stop snoring. He must have just finished a twelve-hour shift down the pit. Maybe Paula was right. But Sarah still couldn’t believe it. Struck dumb, she reached for the brandy bottle and poured another drink.
Paula held out her glass. “I think I need another one, too. He’ll go spare when he sees that broken glass.”
“Oh, bugger the glass. I could buy him a hundred sets of Waterford crystal if he wanted.”
“Haven’t I got through to you? That’s not what he wants. Look at where he comes from, the kind of man he is. He’s happy with meat and two veg, a bottle of beer, a night or two a week out at the club and a roof over his head. He doesn’t want your money, or what it can buy. He wants your love. Have you forgotten how to give it? Is that what fame does to people?”
“Perhaps I have.” Sarah took a large pull on the brandy. It was a cheap make, she noticed, and it burned all the way down. Her hand was shaking. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is all such a shock. I didn’t know... ”
“Of course you bloody didn’t. You’ve been far too busy with your career to spare a thought for family. Truth be told, you’ve always been a bit too selfish, our Sal.”
“It’s not that. Oh, it’s true I’ve been working hard, maybe too much. But I’ve been ill, too. I fell to pieces, Paula. I came unstuck out there, thousands of miles from home. And there was no one to help me, no one I could turn to. I nearly died. I mean I nearly killed myself. I wanted to die.”