Painted Horses

 

As her car edged into the car park, Jennifer felt anxious.

Was this a mistake? She wondered. She knew she could turn the car around and drive away, drive home before she was seen, but she was intrigued. Who was Melissa now? Who had she become?

She steered left and then right to avoid potholes in the car park. Her old car needed as much TLC as she did, and Jennifer did not need another bill to pay. She looked at the other cars parked and wondered if one of them was her sister's car. There were only three cars present, all newer than her own.

Jennifer typed out a message on her phone. Are you here? She pushed send and instantly saw the flashing dots, meaning Melissa was replying.

Her message appeared a second later: Yes, I'm inside.

Jennifer pulled her coat around her tightly as she crossed the car park, the rain bouncing off the tarmac, the smell of the sea beyond the wall, and the distant sounds of calling gulls.

A memory flashed across her mind as her hand brushed against the blue flaking paint on the cafe door. We came here before when we were young. How had I forgotten that?

Inside the cafe, Jennifer scanned the room; a mother and child sat near the door, a table with two older couples across from each other positioned towards the counter, and then over by the window, looking out to the beach, sat Melissa, her sister. She was still focusing on her phone, and Jennifer saw she looked older and heavier than she had imagined but still recognisable with her blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail as she had always worn it, contrasting Jennifer's dark hair. Even when they were young, people told them they were polar opposites.

Melissa looked up, saw Jennifer by the door, and made a half-wave.

Do I tell her today? Jennifer thought as she walked over.

"I got you a tea," Melissa pointed at the white cup and saucer between them as Jenifer pulled out the chair to sit, "I don't know if you like tea even."

"I can't have it, not the milk anyway. Lactose intolerant."

"Sorry, I'll get you something else. What can you have?"

"It's OK, I'll get something; I should be getting these anyway; I'm the oldest, after all."

Jennifer bought herself a mint tea and two packets of biscuits from the counter; she saw her sister shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she waited.

"I got you a biscuit." Jennifer slid the bourbons across the table. She smiled as her younger sister immediately tore into the wrapper, making a cellophane plate on the table like she always had.

"So, I have to ask, have you been here all these years?" Jennifer had meant to wait a while before asking this, maybe make small talk first, but she wanted to ask it from when the reporter called her.

"Still as blunt as ever, I see Jen."

"It's Jennifer these days. No one has called me Jen since you ran away forty years ago." 

Jennifer wondered how many years had passed since they had sat across a table from each other. The story of the missing girl found after forty years had been a minor story for a few days in the national press and answered some, but not all, of the questions that had dominated Jennifer's thoughts for most of her life.

"I've been here, or close to here anyway. I didn't have a plan when I left; I just remembered that day we came here once, and we were happy."

"But why, Lissy, why did you go? Were things really that bad? I know Mum was bad with her drinking, but couldn't you have told me how bad you felt? I could have done more to help you. I could have protected you."

Jenniffer looked intensely at her sister and saw tears in her eyes.

"But you didn't. I get it, don't worry, we were children; I was fifteen then, and although you were seventeen, we were still very young."

Jennifer reached out to Melissa, wanting to comfort her, but stopped short and withdrew her hand. Instead, she reached for her teacup and took a sip. Mellissa continued.

"We had both been through a lot; we didn't grow up so much as survive; I realised that more after I left."

Even though Jennifer knew it was true, she still felt enormous loyalty to their mother.

"Mum stopped drinking eventually. She mellowed in her old age and always talked about you. We never forgot you. She tried finding you for a long time but didn't know where to start. You were just gone. Sometimes, it was like you had never existed. We always had a cake on your birthday; we always celebrated for you."

Jennifer looked into her sister's eyes, familiar yet alien to her. Being opposite her again felt like remembering a half-forgotten dream.

From the cafe kitchen came the muffled sound of a song playing on the radio, too upbeat for the tension currently at the table. Melissa finally broke the moment's silence with a laugh.

"Birthday cakes. You used to make me one every year. You always said Mum had made it, but I always knew it was you. She was never conscious long enough to think about things like that." Melissa smiled. Those cakes were awful, but I loved them; I loved what they meant."

"Mum always thought that one day you'd return when the time was right. She said when she was near the end that she wanted to see you to make amends."

"Make amends? Nothing she could do could have made amends. She told me from a young age that I was a mistake. She made me feel it was my fault that she drank. She was so much harder on me than she was on you."

Melissa pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan to show a half-moon-like scar on her arm. Jennifer knew instantly that it was from her mother's ring; she moved her hand under the cafe table so that Mellissa wouldn't see the same ring now sitting on her hand.

"Mum gave me this scar the day I left; I knew that was the final straw for me; I knew then I had to leave. I'm so sorry I didn't get to see you first to explain. I know what she had; alcoholism is a disease and that she needed help, but I was a child; I just needed a parent." Melissa realised how loudly she was speaking. The old couples at the table near the counter were looking over, concerned looks on their faces.

"I'm sorry she died, Jen. Sorry for you. My emotions are so mixed, though. Sitting here with you makes it feel so raw."

"I understand. I sometimes think I've forgotten just how difficult things were back then." Jennifer wanted to reach out her hand to her sister again but could still feel the ring on her finger. She slipped her hand under the table, removed it from her finger, and slid it into her coat pocket. Looking down at her finger, she saw the indentation and faint white band mark the ring had left behind.

"Shall we go for a walk, Lissy? I could use some air." Jennifer could see that the rain had stopped.

"There's somewhere nearby I want to show you," Jennifer thought, her smile still having a childlike quality.

They strolled along the seafront, stepping around the puddles on the worn grey paving slabs along the beachfront. A group of brave swimmers swam near the shore, their bags piled neatly on the beach stones near the water's edge. Otherwise, the beach was empty.

"The papers said you were married. Do you have children, too?"

"Yes, we have two, a boy and a girl. It's all very boring and stereotypical, but that's all I ever wanted, to have a couple of kids and give them a nice life, which we both didn't have."

Melissa stopped and put her hand into her coat pocket, pulling out her phone; she searched it for a second before handing it to her sister. Jennifer saw a photo of two grown-up children standing in a garden, maybe Melissa's garden.

"That's James and Sarah," Melissa's face was beaming with pride, "Sarah Jennifer."

"Named after me?"

"Of course, I never forgot all about you either.

 Melissa smiled, the tension gone from her face. "How about you? Are you married? Kids?"

Jennifer shook her head, "There was someone for a while, but looking after Mum was always so hard. In the end, it was too much for him, I guess. After she died, it was easier to stay on my own."

Mellissa stopped and looked ahead; in front of them stood the old Victorian-looking carousel, the panted hosed standing proudly in rows, organ music loudly playing to only the operator.

"This is it. Do you remember us being here on that day?"

"I remember. We were 7 and 5. Dad brought us here just before he left. We wanted to go on; we begged him, but he wouldn't let us."

"He bought us an ice cream each, and we sat and watched the other children going round and round as he read the paper. That is one of my only memories of Dad. I remember we were all happy once, then he left, and everything changed."

"We were both desperate to ride on one of those horses."

Melissa walked ahead and spoke to the carousel operator, a stooped man with a thin moustache who looked as old and worn as his machine. She handed him over some coins and beckoned to Jennifer.

"Today is the day we ride the carousel. There are no more parents here to tell us no."

"Aren't we a bit old for this, Lissy?"

"Not at all, but you may have to help me."

Melissa held out her hand, and Jennifer grasped it. The pair laughed as they struggled onto their horses, side by side, on the carousel.

"All aboard", called the operator, and slowly, the carousel started to move.

Jennifer held onto the twisted golden pole as her horse rose and fell. She shouted to her sister over the music.

"This goes much faster than it looks from the ground Lissy." They both laughed and felt giddy like children again. After the ride, they walked, Mellissa with her arm through Jennifers, back to the cafe, the winter sun setting behind them.

"How did the reporter find you?"

"They ran a page of cases of old missing persons, and a neighbour spotted me. She thought she was being helpful. At the time, even at this age, I was terrified that Mum was coming to take me back home. I have a life now; it took me a long time to let myself feel happiness, but now I do; I didn't want that happiness to be snatched away. Once I'd spoken to the police and reporters, you were my first thought. I'm sorry it took me so long, Jen."

"Even on the way here I didn't know what to think, I didn't know if I was still angry with you for going, but seeing you now, being here with you, there is no anger, I'm just glad you're safe."

"'Before I rang you, after the police gave me your number, I wondered if you would want me to be in touch. Forty years is a long time. Maybe you might have also thought it was all my fault.'

Jennifer put her arms around her sister and held her tightly as her sister sobbed onto her shoulder. She comforted her the way she remembered doing from when they were young.

Jennifer thought to herself, "How can I tell her now why Mum was always so cruel to her? Let's just enjoy this moment today."

"I must go; I've got to get back for the kids and my husband. Can we do this again, though? I've missed you being in my life."

"Of course we can. I could meet them all sometime. We are all family now, after all.

Jennifer walked back to the car park with her sister and waved as Melissa drove away.

She stood there for a while, knowing she would have to tell her the truth one day. As their mum was dying, she had told her that they did not share the same father. Melissa was the product of a brief affair her mum had with a friend of her dad's, and finding out that is what had made him leave.

One day, she may tell her, but for now, she was going to enjoy having a sister again.