"Hello," I gasped into the phone.

"Hello, is your daddy there?" slurred a voice on the other end.

"Dad," I called. "Daaad!" Auntie Julia for you."

Dammit, I thought. That meant Dad would be on the phone for hours; Auntie Julia was impossible to get off the phone when she was drunk. She usually called to apologize for doing something like cheating at a card game. A game that had taken place as recently as about forty-five years ago.

Why was I so bothered about the phone's being free anyway? I wondered, nimbly sidestepping Dad as he grumpily hobbled past me on his way to the phone.

Had anybody said that he'd call me?

Was I expecting any calls?

No and once again, no.

I sat down in the hall to eavesdrop unashamedly on Dad's conversation with Auntie Julia. It usually made for interesting, if slightly bizarre, listening.

"Now, Julia, listen to me," Dad said agitatedly. Oh dear, I thought, it must have been a very important card game for Dad to be getting so upset.

"Dampen a tea towel and throw it over it immediately!" he roared into the phone.

Oh good, I thought, as I realized that Auntie Julia was only in the process of attempting to burn her house down and wasn't calling up for a long, remorseful conversation.

"No, under the tap, Julia, under the tap!" Dad yelled.

How on earth had she been proposing to dampen the tea towel? Best not to think about it.

"Now, Julia, I'm going to hang up the phone here and you're to do the same," said Dad slowly and carefully, as if he were talking to a four-year- old child.

"And you're to dial 999 and ask for the fire department," he continued. "And then you're to call me back and tell me that you've done it and that they're on their way."

He slammed down the phone and leaned against the wall.

194

"Christ," he said, looking exhausted.

"What's she done now?" asked Mum, who had appeared in the hall.

"Somehow she's set the oven on fire and it's gotten out of control," sighed Dad. `God, will it ever end?"

The phone rang.

"That'll be her calling back," said Dad, as Mum reached for the phone.

"Hello," said Mum.

Then her face changed.

"Yes, she's here. Who's calling please?"

"It's Adam, for you," she said, handing me the phone with an expression- less face.

"Oh," I said, taking the receiver from her, exhaling with relief.

This was what I had been waiting for all evening, without even realizing it.

"Hello," I said, delighted but trying to hide it in front of Mum and Dad.

"Claire," he said in his lovely voice. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said, a bit awkwardly. Mum and Dad were still standing in the hall, both of them looking at me.

"Get lost," I hissed at them, waving my free arm.

"We've a bloody emergency on our hands," Dad barked. "Get off that phone!"

"In a minute," I told him.

"One minute," he said threateningly.

But then the pair of them left.

"Sorry about that," I told Adam as Mum and Dad returned reluctantly to the sitting room. "A minor family crisis."

"Is everyone okay?" he inquired anxiously.

"Fine," I said.

I was the one who felt anxious now. Was he worried because he was concerned about Helen? About his girlfriend Helen?

"Claire," he continued, "I hope you don't mind my calling. I mean, I don't want you to feel as if I'm plaguing you. Just tell me and I'll stop."

Plague me all you like, I thought.

195

"No, Adam, of course I don't mind you calling me. I like talking to you."

"Great," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I sat on the floor and started to settle in for a comfortable hour or so of conversation.

And as I did so I heard the rattle of someone's key in the front door.

"Oh God," I said as I heard Helen bellow, "I'm home. Feed me! Or I'll report you for neglect."

"What is it?" asked Adam.

"Helen's here," I said.

"Oh is she? Well say hello from me."

"No, I won't," I blurted out.

"Why?" he asked, sounding shocked.

Helen passed me in the hall. She winked and gave me an enchanting smile.

"Hi, Claire, your boots are lovely," she said, and continued on. Some- times--in fact, usually when I least expect it--she can be so sweet and so charming that I could kill her.

"Why won't you tell Helen I said hello?" asked Adam again.

Now's the time to get this thing sorted out once and for all, I decided. If Adam is messing me and my little sister around, then this is my chance to put an end to it.

I was managing to get nicely worked up. The bloody arrogance of him. Just because he's really handsome he thinks he can waltz in here and ride roughshod over all of us, I thought, mixing my metaphors and quickly working myself up into a self-righteous fury.

"Look, Adam," I said sharply as soon as I could hear Helen, Mum and Dad arguing in the living room and I knew that it was safe to speak. "I don't really know how to say this. In fact, I don't even know what I should say."

"For God's sake, what?" he interjected forcefully.

Go on, you tell him, I encouraged myself.

You have every right to know.

But I was already starting to lose my nerve.

"Look, maybe it's none of my business, but are you Helen's boyfriend?" I finally managed.

A silence followed.

196

Oh God, I thought. He is going out with Helen. And he was just being nice to me because I'm Helen's reject older sister. And now he knows that I like him. Damn, damn, damn. I should have kept my fool mouth shut. I've ruined everything because I have no patience.

"Claire," he eventually said, sounding stunned, "what on earth are you talking about?"

"You know," I said. I felt highly foolish, but even more relieved.

"No," he said, sounding a bit cold. "I don't know."

"Oh," I said, really embarrassed now.

"So you think I'm Helen's boyfriend?" he said stonily.

"Well, I thought you might be..." I said, mortified.