Some trigger warnings for this story: alcoholism, depression, domestic abuse, eating disorders, fatphobia, miscarriage, neglect, self-harm, sexual assault, suicide/suicidal thoughts.
Her mother is already half-drunk, and it is only five o'clock. She stares straight at the TV, at whatever inane cookery show they are pretending to watch just to pass away the time, because there's nothing like a birthday to prove how much minutes can really drag.
It is white wine her mother is drinking, she started about two hours ago. Lily feels partly responsible - is partly responsible - it was her who had asked for a glass of something stronger than lemonade to toast her twelfth birthday. She had known it would end up like this anyway.
Birthdays always have been a little inconvenient. It used to feel as though everybody was making such an effort to make her feel special, and wanted, and loved, that they didn't realise how exaggerated it was, how naively transparent they were all being.
It hadn't mattered so much when she was little, not when there were two sets of gifts that attempted to outcompete each other to win her affection. But hardly anyone knows what to buy pre-teens for their birthdays, and the shopping vouchers can't distract her in the same way as the big pink plastic toys used to, and nobody really bothers anymore anyway - not with a birthday so close to Christmas.
It is all a little inconvenient. Inconvenient, a very convenient word.
She runs her nail along the seam of the sofa and watches her mother giggle at something that she alone finds funny.
"You had a nice birthday then, Lil?" She bites down on the inside of her cheek and nods convincingly at her mother. "You like your presents?"
"Yeah, they're really good. Thanks." The smile feels painful, like it is using muscles that have been sprained.
"You make sure your dad makes it up to you, okay?" The smile stays plastered on, smothering anything else that could creep through. It was always 'your dad', never 'Dad'. Her parents have never been 'Mum and Dad'. Her mother stares at the TV again. "It's not like you could help it, is it?" she mumbles. Lily doesn't know what she means.
Her parents have never gotten along. She'd sort of expected them to when she was little, when she would tell them both to come to the Christmas Fair at school and they would stand on opposite sides of the school hall while she mimed along to 'jingle bells' with the rest of her class. They used to insist on each giving her a fiver so she could 'go off and enjoy herself with her friends' while they waited in their respective cars. She had never known whose car to choose at the end. She used to uneasily explain to her dad that she'd forgotten something at her mum's but that if he wanted to come over then he was welcome to. He had always said no, and she had always watched him drive off with a wave and a sense of irresolvable guilt.
She had realised she wasn't helping once she was older, realised she was manipulating them, making them rile against each other. She has stopped saying 'my mum and dad'. She has stopped pretending they had ever had anything in common. She still can't work out why they ever would have dated each other in the first place.
"He could've at least dropped your present round." She glances over at her mother and gives a pacifying smile. "Can't think about anyone except himself, that's his problem."
"Mm." If her dad is self-centred then she probably is too. Children inherit things from both sides. She will try not to be so self-centred in the future. She will try. "I think he's away." She knows her father is away. Away at a conference in Edinburgh, far, far away. Her mother huffs out a sceptical laugh and stares blindly towards the TV again, her head bobbing a little with the drink.
"Is that what he said?" she murmurs, bringing the wine glass up to her lips. Lily thinks about how perhaps children are naive as a safety measure. "He'll be wallowing in the heartache, same as always. Rachel - the love of his life? Please." Melissa tips the rest of the wine down her throat and refills the glass. "Can't have loved her that much if he was over her after one week." Lily feels as though she doesn't exist anymore.
Rachel? As in Auntie Rachel? As in her mother's sister, Auntie Rachel? As in Auntie-Rachel-whose-birthday-card-is-sitting-on-the-mantelpiece-in-front-of-her? Auntie Rachel who hates her? That Rachel? She feels sick. Her father and Auntie Rachel? She stands up without meaning to.
"You off, Lil?" Her mother gives a woozy smile. Lily nods and grins at her, she doesn't think her voice will work if she tries to use it. She closes the door behind her, then runs up to her bedroom and bursts into tears. The nauseous feeling grows stronger; she can't even pretend that it's from birthday cake.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket and stares at the screen of contacts. She thinks about calling her father, thinks about calling Auntie Rachel, thinks about screaming at the two of them for being so cruel to her poor, intoxicated mother.
"Hey, Lils." Her brother's voice sounds upbeat. He is an upbeat sort of person. Philip is not as boring as she is. He is funny, and kind, and people like him. She is self-centred and stupid.
"Hey." She has to hold her fingers over her lips to stop herself crying.
"Happy birthday, again."
"Thanks, Phil."
"What you up to?"
"I'm just, um-" She crawls into the wardrobe. "I'm just watching a film with Mum."
"Oh, what film?" She purses her lips and tells herself not to cry.
"Lion King." It is the first thing that pops into her head.
"The old one or the new one?"
"Old."
"Yeah, the old ones are better." Another tear races down the tracks on her cheeks.
"Phil?"
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't my mum and dad together?"
"They just grew apart." It is always the same answer.
"Did he cheat on her with Auntie Rachel?"
"Oh." The silence feels like a tsunami. "Um. I'm not sure I'm the right-"
"He did?"
"Well, no. No, not- He didn't cheat- What-" Philip is a terrible liar. "Mum lied about- Um." She hears him breathe out. "Right." Lily closes her eyes. "You probably need to ask your dad."
"No."
"Or Mum."
"She's drunk."
"Right." Philip sighs. "Or Aunt Rachel."
"Why can't you tell me?"
"Because I wasn't- I only know some of it."
"You know more than me."
"Yeah." She can see the way he is wincing at the awkwardness of all this, twisting uncomfortably with the stupid questions from his stupid little sister. "But I shouldn't be the one to tell you. I don't know the whole story." She can hear his fingers tapping against a surface, the way they do when he feels uncomfortable. "Call your dad and ask him."
"No."
"Or call Aunt Rachel, honestly. She'll tell you."
"Tell me what?"
"Lils- I can't. Just ask her about mum and your dad."
"And her."
"No, she wasn't- It wasn't her fault."
"What wasn't?"
"Honestly, Lily, I've got to go. Just call her." He hangs up.
Auntie Rachel. Sophisticated Auntie Rachel with her big house and posh car, who was always ready to go out and do something fun when she was younger, maybe it was guilt.
They had been quite close before - when she was little. Auntie Rachel had made her feel seen. Auntie Rachel had liked her. Auntie Rachel had pretended to like her.
She had said that Lily was 'too boisterous' for her to deal with by herself. She'd used the word 'clingy' too. Lily had been embarrassed by that because it was true, she was too clingy. She was always asking for things, demanding Auntie Rachel's time and attention. She hadn't realised that magical Auntie Rachel found her just as annoying as everyone else did.
She had worked it out, after a while. Auntie Rachel had never wanted her there in the first place, she had never liked her, she had just been too polite to say so. Lily had just been too stupid to realise it. She had tried not to talk, whenever they met up after that, hardly veering from her mother's side, hardly waiting to say goodbye before she could get back into the car and go home and stop being such a nuisance.
She stays at home instead now. It is easier that way. No falling for Auntie Rachel's fake promises about staying with her in the summer holidays or visiting the aquarium for her birthday. It took her ages to learn that Auntie Rachel was just lying to make herself feel better, longer than it would have taken anybody else.
She doesn't answer Auntie Rachel's messages anymore, she doesn't sign her birthday card, she shakes her head in disgust when her mum pretends to gag and holds the phone out and mouths, 'Rachel' with a grimace. She wants nothing to do with Auntie Rachel.
She breathes out, then presses call - it isn't as though she will be calling Auntie Rachel anytime soon otherwise.
"Happy birthday!" Lily doesn't say anything. "Lils?" Lily listens to the confusion in her voice and quite enjoys it. "Lily?"
"Thanks." She wishes she had stayed silent.
"Did my card arrive in time - I posted it a bit late?"
"Yeah. Thank you for the sweets and the cookbook." That's probably another guilt thing: the birthday presents, and Christmas presents, and a present for starting secondary school back in September even though she had no other choice. Auntie Rachel has enough money to fend off her latent self-hate with nice presents for her horrid little niece.
"You're welcome, darling. Are you having a nice day?" Lily thinks about saying yes and playing along with her silly little game, thinks about being nice, obedient Lily so she won't irritate Auntie Rachel too much.
"No." she whispers.
"Oh. Why not, sweetheart?"
"Um." She breathes out and adjusts her sock over her toe. "My dad said he was in Edinburgh, and I don't think he is."
"Oh. Why don't you think he's in Edinburgh?"
"I just-" She frowns at the floorboards. "I just think he might be lying to me."
"Well, that doesn't sound like Dad."
"Doesn't it?"
"No, have you tried phoning him?"
"No."
"Well," -she can hear the way her aunt is furrowing her brow- "maybe you could phone him and check?"
"No, it's okay. I'm pretty sure he's at home."
"Okay, well..." Auntie Rachel doesn't understand. "Maybe he got back early?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"Did you want to see him today?"
"No. Not really." A confused silence.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
"Um, I don't know." She puts the phone on speaker and places it on the floorboards. "Phil said I should call you."
"To say happy birthday?"
"Yeah, he- He said you could answer a question that I've got."
"Well, I'll do my best."
"Did you have an affair with my dad?" Auntie Rachel goes very quiet all of a sudden.
"Okay, I think you need to speak with your mum and dad."
"No."
"Yeah. I think they'll want to be the ones to talk about this with-"
"No. I can't."
"Darling, it's really not my-"
"Please, can you just tell me?"
"Are you at your mum's? She could-"
"She's drunk."
"Are you staying at hers?"
"Yeah, my dad's meant to be in Edinburgh, isn't he?" Her voice breaks a little.
"Oh, sweetheart." Lily swallows the lump in her throat back down. "Okay." Rachel sighs. "Okay, I'll come over and we can talk, alright? I'll see you in a minute, Lils." They both know Auntie Rachel lives almost an hour away.