She told herself that maybe this is how people behaved in America, but she wasn’t sure how to respond to such effusive praise. In the end, she simply patted Amelia’s arm and said she was very welcome.
Freya said she would share a cab with Amelia and drop her off at her hotel, they’d talk in the morning and sort out the trip to Hrossey.
When they had both left, Evie sat with her hands wrapped around her whisky glass. The conversation with Amelia and Freya had stirred up so many memories of the past. She hoped that Amelia would get what she needed from her visit to Orkney.
She wanted to know more about her too. She realised Amelia had asked so many questions that they hadn’t really had a chance to get to know more about her background, especially her own childhood and father.
Evie was overcome with tiredness and went to bed thinking there was plenty of time to find out more about Amelia.
Chapter Fifteen
Liv’s Flat
Evie’s sister Liv was still getting used to waking up without a hellish hangover and that feeling of clammy nausea with her insides jangling and her mouth like the bottom of a
budgie’s cage.
A year ago, she would have reached for either a joint, a half-empty can of flat lager, or even nudged the bloke beside her for a quick loveless shag. These days she got up, opened the curtains and took in the views over the high island of Hoy.
It looked so beautiful in the morning sunshine. She had never bothered to take the time to appreciate the spectacular scenery of her island home when she was a child, and from her teens up until recently she was rarely sober enough to care.
Liv looked over her spartan home in Stromness with satisfaction. She had scrubbed clean every inch of the tiny one-bedroom flat, painted the walls white and ripped out the worn, stained carpet revealing a shiny wooden floor which she had polished until her arms ached.
She took pride in keeping her place neat and tidy but had managed to erase any trace of her personality. The small bedroom was like a nun’s cell with a single bed and white sheets, and there were no photos or prints on the walls to give a bit of cheer and warmth.
It was the same in the other room that doubled as a kitchen and living room. You could have eaten your dinner off the floor, and everything smelled strongly of TCP. There was an uncomfortable stiff-backed two-seater couch and a TV in the corner and that was it.
Despite all her years living in a grimy, stained pigsty of a house after she left home, Liv was her mother’s daughter at heart and Cara had been manically clean and tidy. Liv remembered how her mother ended up cooking meals in the microwave and serving them to her husband and daughters on paper plates so as not to make a mess in the kitchen.
Liv had been badly affected growing up in a home where her father walked on eggshells, always frightened of making her mother angry or upset. Her dad had doted on Evie and as far as Liv was concerned had always thought the worst of his eldest daughter.
In fairness, Liv didn’t help herself. She was a bully at school and vile to her sister at home. She turned into a wild child, hanging around with a crowd of druggies and petty thieves. Part of her behaviour was because she simply enjoyed being a rebel, but if she was honest, it was also an attempt to get her parents, especially her dad, to notice her; it hadn’t worked.
She made herself some dry toast and watchedFour in a Bed, scoffing at the contestants snuffling for traces of dust on the skirting boards and ripping apart the bed covers to find pubic hairs on the mattress. No one would ever find anything to complain about in Liv’s flat, but then no one had ever been over her door, and she intended to keep it that way.
Freya had given her basic crockery and kitchen utensils, left in a box outside her door with a note to say she was about to give them to a jumble sale, but thought Liv could use them. Liv would never know Freya had bought everything brand newin Kirkwall and painstakingly removed all the labels. Freya was aware that proud, prickly Liv would never accept gifts, but might grudgingly use stuff that was being thrown out anyway.
Liv tried not to dwell too much on the past, but after her lies to Evie had finally been revealed when her sister had returned home, Liv finally had to face up to the consequences of her actions. Her first response when she had been found out, was to reach for a bottle of Bacardi, but something had stopped her.
She knew she was at a crossroads. If she opened the bottle, her life would continue to spiral out of control. She was facing eviction from her old place and had no savings. She was growing older and had no real friends.
After a spell in rehab paid for by Evie, Liv returned home and plucked up every ounce of courage she possessed and went to an AA meeting. She almost backed out and would have run away if a kindly man she recognised from working on the ferries hadn’t opened the door and told her to come in. She remembered his name was Rab.
“We’ve got coffee and doughnuts,” he grinned.
“Well, I’m not sure if I will be able to cope with the excitement of that,” Liv drawled sarcastically, but seeing the man’s smile falter she quickly added. “But it sounds alright and I do actually need some advice.”
“That’s why we are all here,” he replied reassuringly.
She found herself sitting down and saying in a trembling voice, “My name is Liv and I’m an alcoholic, but you all already know that.”
The group of nine people sitting in a circle chorused “Hello Liv”. She thought to herself, ‘Oh Christ, this is going to be harder than I thought.’
“Look, most of you know me already. Orkney, right? It’s a small world.” Rab smiled at her again.
“Don’t worry, Liv. This is a safe place. Anything you tell us will remain totally private. Think of it like a confessional.”
Liv thought, ‘That’s what I’m afraid of. I can’t tell these people what I’ve done. I just can’t.’ She looked around in despair.
