Here We Lie Read Online Free PDF Page A

never brought home a girlfriend nor, according to his dad, has he ever mentioned going out with anyone. I glance at Jed. Has this occurred to him? How would he react? I imagine he would
be disappointed, not because he’s openly homophobic – he treats Martin and Cameron with the greatest respect – but because homosexuality is not part of his vision for Lish.
    Lish takes a small box and hands me a sachet of ExAche Powders from it.
    ‘Apparently they’re supposed to be good for headaches, that’s what the pharmacist said, isn’t it, Lish?’ Martin asks. ‘Lucky Lish’s French was up to
it.’
    ‘Lucky for Lish he went to a good school where he had the chance to
learn
decent French,’ Jed mutters with a wry chuckle.
    There’s an awkward silence.
    ‘Thanks, Lish.’ I walk over, take the sachet and reach up to peck his cheek.
    Lish shrugs and blushes. He’s as tall as his father now, but lanky and lolloping, without any of Jed’s heft – or his forceful presence.
    ‘I think I’ll take one, make sure the head doesn’t come back.’
    Martin fetches me a glass of water and a spoon to stir in the sachet of powder. As he hands me the glass, Dee Dee rushes in and hurls herself at me. Water slops over the side of the glass. Out
of the corner of my eye I can see Jed wincing at her clumsiness.
    ‘Hey, Dee,’ I say brightly before he can criticize her. ‘How was it at the cocktail bar?’
    ‘Brilliant,’ she says, round-eyed. ‘I had a mocktail.’
    Not for the first time, I’m struck by how young Dee Dee sometimes seems. At thirteen I was driving Rose nuts, sneaking off to pubs with older kids from school. Martin was away at college
so Rose bore the brunt of dealing with me then, explaining that the boys who bought me vodka Red Bulls and hot pink alcopops might have unscrupulous motives underpinning their generosity.
    I stir the ExAche Powder into the water and look up. Where
is
my sister? There’s no sign of her or Martin’s boyfriend.
    ‘What happened to Rose?’ I ask. ‘And where’s Cameron?’
    ‘Still on deck,’ Martin says, sinking onto the nearest couch. ‘They’re dealing with the fish. We bought some sea bream from this private trader we met here before, plus a
whole load of salad. Cameron thought it would be fun to eat on board.’
    ‘I thought we were going to a restaurant?’ Jed sits up. There’s the tiniest edge to his voice. I imagine this is how he sounds with his staff of junior lawyers when they
challenge him.
    Martin shrugs, unfazed. ‘Sure, if you like,’ he says, his face breaking into a disarming smile. ‘Cameron just thought . . . if Emily wasn’t feeling well . . . but
we’re easy, whatever you guys would like.’
    ‘Of course.’ Jed sits back, pacified at this show of consideration. He turns to me. ‘Up to you, baby.’
    They both look at me. I gaze down at Dee Dee. ‘What do you think?’
    Dee Dee hugs me, then puts on that little-girly voice again. ‘Dee Dee doesn’t like fish.’
    ‘Don’t be silly,’ Jed says. ‘Of course you like fish. Fishfinger sandwiches are your favourite meal.’
    Dee Dee shrugs. Jed has a point: Dee Dee loves it when we stay in and do homemade fishburgers and pizzas, but there’s a world of difference between a fish-finger sandwich and
sautéed sea bream. I’ve never known Dee Dee to order fish when we go to nice restaurants. It’s perfectly possible she doesn’t like it and Jed would have no idea. I open my
mouth to say that I didn’t like fish dishes much when I was thirteen, and that I’m sure Cameron can find something else for Dee Dee to eat, but Jed is talking again.
    ‘You’re eating the fish,’ he orders his daughter. ‘Martin and Cameron went to a good deal of trouble to buy it and there’s no good reason not to eat it. Plus
Martin’s right. If Emily isn’t feeling too hot, then staying in is the best bet. We can always stop off for a drink on the way back to the villa later.’
    And so it is