The Understudy

The Understudy

"It's no good you having kids; you haven't got the patience." Beth
perches on the arm of the sofa and surveys her audience. She swings her
leg as she speaks.
"And how do you know?" I stand up, chastened, as her audience waits for
my reaction. They sit around the airy lounge, watching as Beth holds
court. Ben is at my feet. He chatters and writhes on the hearthrug,
oblivious to his part in my awkwardness. Scents from the barbecue waft
temptingly inside. The laughter of male camaraderie reverberates around
the garden.

My sister is beautiful. The afternoon sun sneaks inside and strokes her
hair to a rich black treacly sheen. She sips a glass of chilled
Riesling and deliberates.
"Well you haven't. If things don't go your own way you have a
fit."
"So, everybody runs out of patience sometimes." I manoeuvre my feet so
my toes are in line with the rug's thick over bound edge.
"Agreed. But I still don't think you've got the patience to deal with
children, not day in and day out."
"But fine for an aunt?"
"Well you do get to hand them back." She pauses and sips for dramatic
effect. "Look, you're even getting wound up just talking about it.
Where are you going?"

"Back to the kitchen. This food won't prepare itself you know."
"Poor little Cinders." I know she is smiling that wry half smile of
hers. She reserves it just for me. A well-practised mix of mock
amusement coupled with a good dose of "I told you so." Beth has a
well-rehearsed cast of thousands when it comes to facial
expressions.

My sister is an actress. Not your T.V. type actress wanting a long-term
soap contract. No, Beth does theatre, dahling. Very good she is too.
They did Midsummer Night's Dream last month in the Memorial Park. Beth
played Hermia. Loved by two men, she liked that. She says research is
the key to a believable performance. I wonder how far she would go in
the name of art.

I don't really know what I'm doing here. They're all friends of Beth
and Jack. I don't know them. I get brought along as the sister. A foil
to reflect Beth's brilliance.

"What else are you going to do?" Beth questioned my refusal. "Have you
got anything better planned?"
"Reading."
"Ha, I knew it. Nothing." She smiled triumphantly. "That's settled you
can come across to Luce and Joe's. They're having a barbeque for Ben's
birthday." She paused. "Just think, my Godson is three." She stroked
her stomach. "One day, Jayne. One day."

My sister hasn't slept with Jack for months. I have that knowledge in
strict confidence. She's far too busy with her blossoming career to
risk pushing it back for anything. Jack is understanding. He has be. He
loves her.

"Do you need a hand Jayne?" Luce calls from the lounge.
"No, she's fine." Beth pronounces judgement. "She likes being in the
kitchen, she's not one for mixing."

Nice, she dragged me out. How magnanimous she must look. Poor Beth,
saddled with her unmarried sister.

Can't have more than one genius in the family.
She just hangs around, might as well get her to do something
useful.
Don't be jealous. Let her have her limelight.
She doesn't say much, leaves everyone else to talk for her.

I do have friends, and a life of my own. Not as exciting to Beth's, but
it's mine. I'm a Librarian. I love being surrounded by books.
Knowledge, Romance, Sci-Fi, Horror, and more. They're all there. If I
were truthful, I 'd catalogue all fiction under Escapism, but who
really cares?

"Cup of tea, Jayne?"
"Please, Jack."
"No, I meant, can you make me one?"
"Course."

I wipe my hands on the frilly pinny I'd found hidden amongst the tea
towels. Our hostess's drawers are not up to Beth's standards. Her tea
towels are always ironed and neatly folded by her cleaning lady. She's
never at home see. She's either performing or rehearsing. If she is at
home then she has far better things to do than clean.

My sister is a perfectionist. Everything has to be in its place. She
says it's all due to being a Taurean. Me, I'm an Aquarius. An air sign;
light headed and up in the clouds. Beth uses this against me. It always
highlights her perfections. She too is perfect. Perfectly proportioned
figure, model features, acting ability and everyone loves her. Our
parents encouraged Beth's dreams. Poke the other one in a corner with a
book.

"Tea going to be long?" Jack leans against the sink, watching me.
"Kettle needs to boil."
"Don't worry, I'll come back, or you could bring it out when you've
done."
"Whatever."

Joe peers inside. "Salads done Jayne? The meats cooked."
"All clinged up and on the table."
"Marvellous."
"Hold the tea Jayne, I'll have one later."

I watch them all line up at the barbeque, then they swoop inside and
circle the dining table. They interact perfectly. They don't need me to
be there. My appetite is suppressed. Mind you I've been picking at
salad and bread all afternoon. I watch from the kitchen. Through a
doorway into another world that I don't fit into. A world that wouldn't
miss me. The whole world is a stage. Beth says that. Perhaps she'll
understand then.

I wait until they've all sat down, then approach the table. I need
something sweet. I cut a sliver of chocolate cake and drop a little
cream on the side. I dip a mouthful of cake in the cream and swallow.
Bliss.

Beth peers over the back of the sofa. "I don't understand you Jayne.
You moan about being fat then you go and gulp huge slabs of
cake."

I lay down my fork. "It was only a taste." The eyes in the room are on
me. "Greed," they're saying. "Greed." Salt water wells in my eyes. I
head for the sanctity of the kitchen.
"Your sister's not like you Beth."
"No, I wouldn't have believed you two were related."

Beth will like this adoration. She likes to be unique, a one off. She's
worked hard to get where she is.

Size doesn't matter or rather size shouldn't matter. It does if you're
me, big girl, big sister, its all the same. I'm warm and comforting in
bed. Soft curves, no hard edges. That's what he said. It was only the
once though. Said you could have too much of a good thing.

There is definitely something in this naming lark. I get Jayne; yes
plain Jayne, albeit with a slightly more interesting spelling. She gets
Elisabeth, shortened to Beth. Not Lizzie, too untidy sounding, no, my
parents decided on Beth. It's the name you'd give a doll; a beautiful
wide-eyed doll.

"Jayne, come and meet your new sister. Ssshh, quietly now. She's
asleep."
Dad lifts me on to a chair and I peer into a white waffley blanket with
a face wrapped well inside. She looks like a baby left by the fairies.
I've got pictures of them on my bedroom wall. I reach into the blanket.
I want to check. My hand is snatched away.

"Don't Jayne." My mother hisses coiled and alert. "I've just got her to
sleep."
My father glares and shakes his head. "Never listens, does she?"

I stand on the chair and look at the floor. My eyes are wet. I mustn't
cry. I'm a big girl now. I should know better.

"What's she called?" I choose my question carefully.
"Elisabeth. We'll call her Beth for short."
I presume I am included in the 'we' so I try again.
"Hello Beth. Welcome home."
"That's better." My father nods his approval.

"Tea ready Jayne?"
Jack takes the mug I push towards him.
"You looked miles away Jayne."
"Just thinking."
He looks alarmed. "What about?"
"All sorts."
"Me?"
"And Beth."
"Look I'm sorry, it shouldn't have happened."
"I know."
"You know I'm married to your sister."
"Yes." I cradle my mug. "So it's all my fault is it?"
He looks taken aback. His mouth gapes like a gormless goldfish.
"No. Yes. Well?"
"Well; hole in the ground you get water out of."
"Cut the sarcasm Jayne. It doesn't suit you."
"That is a matter of opinion."

He's not used to me answering back. Nobody is. I rock the tea back and
forth and wait. He's still here. I trace my finger around the mug's
rim. I feel the fine chip. I sip and notice the fine hairline crack.
It's just a matter of time before the crack gives way.

"Like I said. I'm married to your sister."
"That's obvious, pity it wasn't at the time."
"She's beautiful." Jack gazes out into the lounge.
"Of course, she wouldn't be anything but."
"You're supposed to look out for your sister. You wouldn't want to do
anything to hurt her, now would you?"

He looks hopeful. He's playing his trump card, the guilt trip. Yes
that's right. Off load your guilt onto Jayne. Make her feel bad. Tell
her it's all her fault. Works every time.

"Why did you let Beth do that?" My mother has dragged me into the
lounge. Shoes off, my bared feet fidget in the hearthrug's thick
pile.
"Do what?"
"Fall in the stream?"
"We were playing mermaids. Beth wanted to play too."
"Mermaids! Look at her, sodden."
"It wasn't my fault she fell in."
"You're supposed to be looking out for your sister, making sure she
doesn't get hurt."

My toes dig deeper into the pile, they want to dig me out of here. Away
from all this adult responsibility my parents have decided I should
have forced on my Junior School shoulders.
"That's not fair."
"Life isn't fair."
"She always gets away with it."
"By she, I presume you mean your sister?"
"Yes, but?"
"Goats butt."
"But?"
"Don't answer back." My face stings. "You're old enough to know
better."

"You can't tell anyone." Jack grins at me. "You're old enough to know
better. Remember?"
I glare at Jack. I told him that in confidence, a shared confidence
after stolen intimacy. Now betrayed and sullied. It's already turning
brown around the edges. Oxidising now open to exposure, like the apple
in the salad. Mind you, the rest of the table looks worse for wear.
Picked over food, scrunched up napkins, I suppose they'll cast me as
chief bottle washer.

My gaze follows him back into the lounge. The men are all inside now. I
watch him strut around. Who decided to thrust him into the limelight?
Beth. She's allowing him a slice of the action. He's gearing up to it.
Jack will be playing male lead this evening, opposite Beth, naturally.
He's coached me on my part. He wants me to be ready. No fluffing my
lines or missing my cue. I must be ready; I have a supporting
role.

"Can I have everyone's attention please, and you Jayne. Come out of
that kitchen for a while, the washing up'll wait." He stands next to
me. He's good. No one would ever know. His arm is around my shoulder.
"Jayne; you're going to be an aunt."

I look at him looking at her. She looks at me, waiting for the expected
joy. I should know my part. I swallow twice and look at the audience.
They expect a happy ending. But I have the starring role and a twist to
the tale.

"So are you Beth. So are you." I smile, "Isn't she Jack?"