Heathen/Nemesis

Eighty-Three

Silence.

The words Julie had spoken brought only silence from her sister. For dreadful seconds Donna was reminded of her first sight of the policeman on her doorstep bringing her news of her husband’s accident. How long ago was that? A month? It felt like years. Suffering had a way of distorting even time.

Now she looked blankly at her sister, momentarily unsure she’d heard right. The words gradually found their way into her consciousness. They began to take on their full meaning.

She swallowed hard.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she said finally, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Julie sucked in a weary breath.

‘It’s true. Do you want dates, times, places? What do I have to say to convince you?’ Julie answered wearily. She sank back on the sofa, one hand over her eyes.

She waited for the explosion of rage and recrimination.

It never came.

Donna sat at the other end of the sofa, hands clasped around one knee.

‘How long had it been going on?’ she wanted to know.

‘Nine or ten months.’

Donna felt as if she’d been struck by an iron bar. Her head was spinning.

‘Jesus,’ she murmured, trying to recover her wits. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. It just happened, I ... We never intended it to happen.’ She looked at her sister, her own shame intensified by the confession. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So am I,’ Donna said. Then, more vehemently, ‘Did you love him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought that was a multiple-choice question, Julie. You either did or you didn’t.’

The younger woman shook her head.

‘Did he love you?’ Donna persisted.

‘No.’

‘You sound very sure. Ten months is a long time; are you telling me you never felt anything, either of you?’

Julie didn’t speak.

‘It was just sex then, was it?’ Donna hissed. ‘No love, just plenty of fucking. Was that it?’

‘Donna, he loved you. I knew he’d never leave you, he always made that clear.’

‘Did you want him to leave me? Were you trying to get Chris away from me?’

‘No, I would never have done that. It was his decision. Like I said, he loved you.’

‘But you hung around, just in case he changed his mind, right?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘Then tell me what it was like, Julie,’ Donna hissed.

‘We were more like friends.’

‘Friends don’t fuck each other.’

‘Sex wasn’t important.’

‘But when you did it, was it good? Did you enjoy it? How did you rate him? Did he do things to you other men hadn’t? Did he make you come? Was he considerate, caring? Tell me, Julie.’

The younger woman had no answers.

‘What attracted you to him in the first place, or did he make the first move?’

‘I had an exhibition of some of my photographs in a gallery in Knightsbridge. Chris came along, we chatted. He took me for a coffee.’

‘And that was when you decided, was it? That was when you thought you’d start fucking your sister’s husband. Well, was it? Come on, I’m curious. Did he suggest going back to your place or did you tell him to come round when he felt like it?’

Julie was about to answer when Donna’s face darkened.

‘Did you ever fuck him in our house?’ she demanded, anxious that the betrayal should not have entered her most private domain.

Julie shook her head.

‘It was usually my flat, sometimes my studio,’ she said. ‘Like I said, Donna, it wasn’t that often.’

‘It doesn’t matter if it was once or a hundred times, you still did it.’

‘He was an attractive man, for Christ’s sake,’ Julie said irritably, as if that were some excuse to explain what had happened. ‘He was hard to resist. We’d always got on well, you know that. I admired his attitude to life, perhaps that was what attracted me to him. He didn’t give a fuck about anyone or anything. If he wanted something, he got it. I’d never met a man so ambitious, so determined.’

‘Yes, Chris always got what he wanted. Did that include you?’

‘I know it was wrong and if there was anything I could do to change things I would, Donna.’

‘Would you really? Are you trying to tell me you regret the affair? Or are you sorry Chris is dead because you lost him as well as I did? Do you regret it?’

‘I regret hurting you.’

‘Then why tell me? Was your conscience pricking you? I find that difficult to believe, after ten months. I would have thought you’d have come to terms with the guilt by now. Pushed it to the back of your mind. Did you ever think about me when you were with him? Did you ever once stop and think what you were doing?’

‘No,’ Julie said flatly.

‘Ever since Chris died my life has been one continual round of suspicion, mistrust and deceit. And now I find out that it extends into my own family. With my own fucking sister.’ Donna looked at the younger woman with an expression that combined rage and bewilderment. ‘How long would it have gone on, Julie, if he hadn’t died? A year? Three years? The rest of our lives? Or just until I found out?’

‘It would have petered out. Like I said, we didn’t love each other.’

‘There must have been something between you to keep it going for ten months. Don’t tell me it was just because Chris was good in bed.’

‘We didn’t love each other. How many times do I have to say it?’

‘It’s easy to say that now, because it’s over. But if it had gone on you might have. Then you might have tried to get him away from me. But that’s something we’ll never know, isn’t it?’

The two women faced each other for long moments.

‘Did anyone else know what was going on?’ Donna said finally, angered by the fact that the secret might have been shared.

‘Martin Connelly knew,’ Julie confessed. ‘Chris took me out for dinner one night and Connelly was in the same restaurant. He didn’t say much. I don’t know what Chris told him.’

‘I wish you could feel what I’m feeling now,’ Donna said vehemently. ‘Anger, sadness - and I feel like a fool, too. I feel as if you’ve been laughing at me. I feel as if everyone’s been laughing at me. Was it because your own marriage failed, Julie? You couldn’t stand to see anyone else happy after what happened to you? Was that it?’

‘I’ve told you the reasons and I know it’s pointless to say it but I’m sorry, Donna.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll go now. You won’t see me again, I promise you.’

‘No. You’re not walking out on this, Julie,’ Donna rasped. ‘You say you’re sorry.’

‘I am. I know you don’t believe me, though. You never will.’

‘Make me believe.’

‘How?’

‘Stay and help me destroy The Sons of Midnight.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You mean you won’t?’ Donna glared at her sister. ‘It would be so easy for you to walk out, wouldn’t it? Well, if you want to show me you’re sorry then you’ll help me.’

‘That’s emotional blackmail.’

‘Too fucking right it is. Anyway, you’re not giving yourself an opportunity to get over your guilt if you walk away. Stay and help me.’

‘We could both be killed.’

‘Look on it as paying back a debt,’ Donna said, her eyes narrowed. ‘You owe me that.’