The Reunion

maid.
    Dan looked well, too, tanned and slim. He pressed cold drinks into their hands and fussed over the girls, going into charm overdrive, telling them how lovely they looked, just like their mum. The pair of them looked happier than they had since Heathrow; meeting the film director was pretty much the only thing they’d been looking forward to about this trip.
    Natalie sipped her drink and listened to her daughters chattering excitedly at Dan, asking when was he last in Hollywood and had he really met Robert Pattinson? She listened for about three minutes. She couldn’t just stand here pretending everything was normal, that they were just here on holiday.
    ‘Where is she, Dan?’ she asked.
    ‘She’s upstairs, taking a nap. Zac went down to the village to the butcher’s, we thought we might barbecue tonight. That suit you, girls? You’re not veggie, are you?’
    ‘Dan…’
    ‘Go up if you like. She’s in Jen’s old room. Don’t worry about waking her – she’d want you to. She’s been looking forward to seeing you.’
    Halfway up the stairs, Natalie stopped. She took a deep breath, resting her hand on the cool stone wall, preparing herself. She could feel her heart racing, beating much too fast. She felt afraid. Andrew, behind her, slipped his hand into hers.
    ‘Come on,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll go up together.’ Her breath caught in her throat, it was little moments of kindness like this that made her want to cry, because it brought home to her what she’d lost, a time when moments like this were commonplace, when they were kind to each other all the time. She squeezed Andrew’s hand and continued up the stairs. She knocked softly on the bedroom door and pushed it open.
    The room was warm and dark, the window open, curtain fluttering in the breeze. Lilah lay on her side, facing away from them. Natalie turned back to face Andrew.
    ‘Maybe we should leave her to sleep,’ she whispered. Andrew’s eyes held hers, he shook his head.
    ‘Come on,’ he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Let’s say hello.’
    In the bed, Lilah stirred, moving her legs about, rolling over onto her back. Natalie took a couple of steps towards the bed and Lilah propped herself up on her elbows.
    ‘There you are,’ she said, her voice no more than a croak. ‘Come here and see me.’
    Natalie could feel the smile fixing on her face as her eyes adjusted to the light, as she moved a little closer.
    ‘Hi, Lilo,’ she said. Her hands were screwed into fists at her side, fingernails digging into her palms.
    ‘Hi, Nat.’
    She was like a spectre, sitting there in the half-light, so emaciated she seemed almost insubstantial, her cheeks hollow, her lips grey, her skin dry as paper. Her long blonde hair was gone, replaced by a short, wispy mop which only served to emphasise her gauntness. For a moment or two, Natalie couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe; she sat down next to her on the bed and tried to smile, but she couldn’t. She took Lilah in her arms and held her, whispering, ‘Oh, Lilo. Oh, my poor girl.’
    When eventually Lilah pulled away from her, she was smiling. ‘So,’ she said, smoothing Natalie’s hair and wiping the tears from her cheeks, ‘it turns out you
can
be too thin.’

 
     
    21 July 2013
    Dear Dan,
    Lilah wrote to me. She told me. I spoke to Jen, she told me it’s true, it’s really true. I cannot think straight. I can’t process that.
    I’m writing to you because Lilah asked me to come and stay, and I’m aware that it’s not actually her house and not her invitation to give. I wanted to check with you. Andrew said of course we can go, don’t be ridiculous, you don’t have to ask Dan, but I think I do.
    I don’t know if you’ve forgotten what I said to you that first night at the French house in December, but I’ve replayed it many times in my head, along with a lot of other terrible things I said that weekend. I told you that we weren’t friends, that you had no place in our lives, and I feel wretched for saying that.
    I have been doing quite a bit of soul-searching these past few months, and I find myself remembering things that I’d long since forgotten. Like how, in those early years after the accident, you were very kind to Andrew and me, the way you maintained your neutrality when everything fell apart between Lilah and Andrew and me, the way you sought to hold us all together. I remember how, even after we all fell out about the film, I thought of you