Free The White Family by Maggie Gee Page B

colour, Shirley realized; the grey in his curls had disappeared. His face underneath was tighter, older, the lines set hard in a mask of tan. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Hi everyone,’ as if there were too many of them to manage individually. ‘I’m just trying to get some
morsel
of sustenance out of the bloody NHS.’ His wife hovered behind him, pretty, uncertain, her pink suit fitting like an elegant glove, her hair hanging bobbed, healthy, expensive. ‘This is Susie,’ he said, gesturing angrily. ‘My new wife. She couldn’t eat a thing on the plane. Of course neither of us eats red meat, and the veggie stuff was drowning in saturated fat. We made a special effort to get here today – I had an interview to do in Madrid. Mum sounded so damn frightened last time we spoke. Then two minutes after we get to the bedside the consultant turfs us out –’ He was plainly trying to get a grip on himself. ‘Sit down,’ he ordered his wife over his shoulder. ‘This is Shirley, my sister. And Thomas Lovell. I’d forgotten you two knew each other.’
    ‘Shirley,’ said the woman with an enormous smile that revealed big teeth and polished pink gums. She took both Shirley’s hands in hers, and squeezed them hard, meaningfully. ‘I know this is a difficult time for you. And Thomas. I’ve heard so much about you, Tom.’
    ‘
Thomas
,’ Darren corrected her, swiftly, annoyed.
    ‘You’re not American,’ Shirley said. She smiled at Susie, wanting to help her.
    ‘I’ve lived there fifteen years,’ Susie said. ‘My mother thinks I sound completely American.’
    ‘Where are the children?’ Shirley asked. Darren had two children by each of his first two marriages. Susie’s face registered it as a reproach. ‘I had – I mean, we had – the kids last weekend. Both lots actually. They’re great. But kids aren’t good in hospitals.’
    ‘I didn’t mean …’ Shirley trickled away. ‘I’ve never met them, believe it or not.’
    ‘Darren,’ said Thomas. ‘Long time no see.’ He had got to his feet to greet his friend. They were almost the same height, two tall, dark men. After an awkward pause, they shook hands vigorously, like two boxers not exhausted by their fight.
    ‘Darren always said you two were like brothers,’ Susie remarked, encouragingly.
    But a voice cut in from behind their backs, a new voice, thin, resentful, nasal. ‘I’m his brother,’ Dirk complained. ‘I’m his brother. He hasn’t introduced me.’
    Shirley couldn’t escape him. He butted in, anxious, albino under the angry fluorescent.
    ‘Dirk,’ said Darren, switching instantly into a social smile, his tan creasing. ‘It’s great to see you. You disappeared. This is my little brother, Susie. You were by the bed, but you suddenly vanished –’
    ‘Had to go to the toilet,’ Dirk said, simply. ‘I thought you’d have waited. Hello, Shirley.’
    And then they were all there, the whole family.
    ‘How long is it since we were all together?’ Shirley asked, but nobody answered, busy finding chairs, stowing coats and bags, glad of the respite from each other.
    All of us are here. Me, my two brothers. We were never all together. We don’t know how to do it
.
    The café was quietening down at last. The locusts had eaten, and were flocking away, muttering ferociously, back down the corridors, a flapping of jaws and creased white wings. The Whites were left at their table in the window, lost in a desert of royal blue plastic, Darren still too wound up to sit down, Susie perched gingerly, an acid-pink flamingo, on a chair she appeared to fear was dirty, Shirley feeling like a giant by comparison, clumsy, creamy, too heavy to move, Thomas disappearing to fetch a pot of tea, and Dirk sidling grimly round the table to escape the women and be near his brother, his brother who was taller, richer, browner, Darren who was more of a man than him.
    ‘So that’s a full house,’ Shirley repeated brightly. ‘All the family together at