greeting. His child’s smile stabbed at her heart. He was not much older than Abigail in the photograph.
Quincy looked up from the stove. ‘What happened to you? You look awful.’
Maddy moved over to her sister, dropping her voice. ‘We need to talk.’
‘I know,’ Quincy said, pulling at a wide drawer which noiselessly slid out to offer a vast range of cutlery. ‘That’s why I’ve been calling you. You know Mom has an appointment today, don’t you? At Cedar Sinai? Mark arranged it, with a specialist he knows. The thing is, I can’t take her. And it’s very much your turn, isn’t it? Why don’t you put these on the table? It’s so nice to see you. The kids haven’t seen you for ages.’ She handed her three plates and a small jug of maple syrup.
Maddy took them and put them straight down. ‘Quincy, it’s not that. It’s something terrible. We have to talk. Away from here.’
Into the vast living room, the silent black of the enormous TV screen that filled one wall reflecting them as they faced one another. Quincy’s brow was furrowed into a frown that said: What have you done now?
‘It’s Abigail. The police called me in the middle of the night. She was found … They found her. She’s dead, Quincy.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t make me say it again.’
‘What are you talking about? I saw her on Sunday. She was here. She had lunch with us.’
‘They say it was a heroin overdose.’
‘Heroin? Abigail? Why would you say these things, Maddy? What’s wrong with you?’
‘I wish it wasn’t true. But I’ve seen … I’ve seen her. I was there a few hours ago, at the coroner’s office. It’s not a mistake.’
Once Quincy surrendered to the truth, she crumpled. As she did so, she instantly managed to find what had eluded Maddy all night: tears. Quincy held her arms open to be hugged by her younger sister, and they stood together, Maddy’s face growing wet from tears that were not her own.
‘You should have told me,’ were the first words Quincy managed.
‘I couldn’t do it over the phone.’
‘You should have come here earlier. I should have known.’
‘I couldn’t wake you up in the middle of the night. It would have terrified the children.’
‘It wasn’t right that you had to know this on your own, Maddy.’ After a few seconds, she spoke again. ‘And where was she?’
‘Like I said, in her apartment.’
‘No. I mean where?’
Maddy hesitated, picturing the image supplied to her at the coroner’s office and now seared into her mind: of Abigail, laid out on the floor. She should tell her. Quincy had a right to know. If Maddy had had to endure it, then they both should. Quincy had even said as much, that it was wrong for Maddy to carry this knowledge alone. Instead she said, ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’
At that, Quincy started sobbing again. Her son, Brett, was calling for her.
‘I’m really sorry, but there’s something I need to ask you,’ Maddy began. ‘About Abigail.’
Quincy stood up. ‘I’m going to go over to Mom’s now. I think we should go together.’
‘No. I can’t.’
‘What do you mean, you “can’t”?’
‘I can’t, Quincy.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to work. Jesus.’
‘Of course I’m not! For God’s sake. But I need to find out what happened to Abigail. None of it—’
‘Are you kidding? Let the police do that. Right now, you need to be with your family.’
‘I can’t do it, Quincy. I’m not going over there.’
‘Christ, Maddy. I don’t understand you at all, do you know that? At a time like this, your place—’
‘Look, just tell me. Did Abigail do drugs? Is that possible?’
‘Abigail? Abigail? I can’t believe you’d even ask that. Of course not.’
‘OK. Because what this means—’
‘Where would she even get drugs from? She didn’t mix in those kind of circles. And nor do I.’
‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’
‘Shhh. The children!’
‘No.’ Madison raised her voice louder, deliberately shouting out the word most likely to anger her sister. ‘What. The. FUCK is that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing, Maddy. Nothing. We’re all in shock. Ignore it, just ignore—’
‘Are you saying that I mix in those kind of circles, that I hang out with junkies? Is that what you’re saying? You can be a real shabi sometimes, you know, Quincy.’
‘How dare you use that language in this house!’
‘I can’t believe it. You’re blaming me!’
‘I’m not. Of course I’m not, Maddy. I’m just saying that you, you know, sometimes showed Abigail a more urban lifestyle than—’
‘More urban? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You mean because I don’t live in Crestwood fucking Hills with an SUV and a Merc?’
‘I think you should leave. I need to tell our mother that her daughter is dead.’
That stopped Maddy cold. She felt the rage ebb, leaving only exhaustion behind. ‘I’m sorry, Quincy. I’m not thinking straight. I’m just so …’ The sentence faded away.
Quincy looked at her with eyes that were raw. ‘OK. But you’re meant to be this great investigator, so brilliant at finding out the truth. But you don’t even know the people right in front of you, do you? You think you’re this big media star, Maddy, but guess what: you don’t always know everything. Not about me. Not about Mom.’ She paused, considering whether to continue. ‘Not even about Abigail.’
She felt an extra rebuke in the fact that she didn’t have a key. Quincy probably had one, entrusted to her by Abigail in case of emergency. If Abigail had locked herself out or gone on vacation without turning the air-con off, who was she going to call? Madison didn’t blame her younger sister. Truth is, she’d have done the same in her position: rely on the one you can rely on.
You don’t always know everything. The words had stung her, replaying themselves as she had driven away from Quincy. So typical that, even now, her elder sister had managed to find a way to make Maddy feel excluded, as if she were somehow on the edge of the family, not privy to a knowledge shared by the other three women. Occasionally, Maddy felt that way, somehow lacking a clear place in the sibling line-up. Quincy was the eldest, Abigail the youngest but what was she? The middle sister? There wasn’t even a name for that.
In her head and even, for one moment, out loud in the car – alone in the driving seat – Madison had rehearsed her comeback. Truth is, Quincy, it’s you who doesn’t know everything. In fact, Quince, you know nothing. Thanks to us, you never did. You don’t have the slightest idea what happened that day, do you?
It was then that it struck her. With Abigail gone, and her mother in the state she was in, Madison was the only one left who knew. The only one left who remembered. The sensation of it left her queasy, as