Not Always

“-so yeah. I’m not sure what’s going on at the moment.” Alice sighed. “Like, I know where they’re supposed to be going-”

“So why don’t you just write that?” As usual Jenny was far more interested in the biscuits than in what Alice was saying, and she was currently digging about to find the last of the bourbons hidden at the bottom of the pile. After all these years Alice was used to her sister’s attention only lasting as long as the snacks did.

“It doesn’t work like that.” How many times had she tried to explain it over the years?

“Of course it does. You’re the writer. They’re your characters. You write what they do, and they do it. I really don’t see what’s so hard about that. It’s not like they’re actual people.”

But they are, in a way, Alice thought, but she didn’t have the brain-space to explain that yet again. No matter how often she tried to tell her sister that the characters didn’t always do what they were told, that yes, they kind of did have their own agency, all she got was blank looks.

For some reason though, it made her sister an exceptionally useful sounding board. Anyone else Alice tried to talk to about writing wanted to get too involved, throwing themselves into her plot, or coming up with new characters who were completely at odds with the entire feel for what Alice was working on. Compared to that, Jenny’s apathy was stimulating.

“Can you just take my word that it doesn’t? There’s too much personality in the characters-” Alice stopped talking when she caught sight of Jenny’s blank face. “It just doesn’t work. There’s something wrong with the plot. I can’t work out what though.”

“Have you tried rewriting it?”

“It’s eighty-thousand words, Jenny. I’m not rewriting it until I’ve worked out what’s wrong.”

“So, is it like-” The strain on Jenny’s face as she dug about for writing buzzwords was phenomenal. Jesus, I hope she’s more with it than this at work. “Plot? Or… setting? Or… time?”

Damn, that’s a stretch. Those were the phrases that had been drilled into them during primary school English lessons, around the time that Alice had first fallen in love with the craft. Maybe I do need better help this time.

“It’s the characters,” Alice said, and she pointedly ignored the rolled eyes she got in response. “The plot’s manageable. At it’s core it’s just a love story, the tale of two lovers as they strive to over-come everything the world throws at them. Family arguments, redundancy, cancer, that sort of thing.”

“Childhood sweethearts?” Jenny said with a knowing grin.

“Yes, of course.” Despite all her frustration with writer’s block, Alice smiled. She couldn’t help writing about childhood sweethearts. They did say write what you know after all, and her and Jason had known each other since reception. Even after all these years she still couldn’t stop playing with the wedding band on her finger.

“D’aww,” Jenny said, although it wasn’t entirely sarcastic. Though none of her own relationships had been so successful- or stable- she was still happy for her big sister. “So, can’t you just write as you and Jason would handle it? I mean, you guys have been through a lot over the years.”

“That was the plan. It’s just… not working, for some reason.”

Gossip queen that she was, Jenny leant forward at this. “Are you and Jason… you know?”

“What? No. We’re fine. It’s the characters-”

“Yeah, but the characters are you, in a way. They come from your mind. So, maybe it’s your brain telling you something’s wrong.”

“Rubbish. We’re fine.”

“But what if you just haven’t noticed? You guys have been together so long- have you just, what do they say, settled?”

“No! Oh, forget it! Forget I ever asked.” Alice threw her hands up and stood up, collecting her wine as she headed over to the window.

They had more than just Jenny visiting that day. It was one of their regular meet-ups, and while she knew she shouldn’t have, Alice had stolen Jenny away to get her input on this damned book. It was only supposed to have been a quick chat; now she had to make sure her sister didn’t drink too much for the rest of the day and start gossiping. Brilliant.

Down in the garden Jason was flitting between guests, doing all the hosting that she should’ve been helping with. As she watched him laugh with some work mates Alice couldn’t help but smile again.

“Okay then-”

“Christ, Jenny, drop it.”

“No, no, about this book. Why aren’t the characters doing what they should?”

Alice eyed her sister up carefully. Damn it, she’s not even looking at the biscuits. Does she actually want to help, or is she digging for gossip? Well, I’ve started this all now. Might as well try and make the most of it. Alice took a swig of wine while she tried to work out the best examples.

“Okay,” she said at last, “so, one time, they’re supposed to be going to dinner, after a rough week, but he has to work late.”

The cogs turned as Jenny tried to get her head round it, and Alice could see her fighting back the sarcasm. “Okay. Fine. Whatever. Do they… need the money? Was he covering for someone else? I don’t know, what are other reasons people work late?”

“Mostly those, I think.” Not that Alice had ever had a ‘day job’, so to speak. She got all her information about that from Jason. “He was super apologetic about it the next day, buying her flowers and cooking her dinner.”

“Cooking her dinner? Why didn’t he just take her out then instead?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Okay. That’s suspicious to me. What else is there?”

“He’s getting a lot of work calls and texts as well. That really puts a strain on them, because she really needs his support.”

“Then just don’t write- whatever. Writer’s thing, got it. So he’s distracted, not paying her enough attention, not really focused on her as much as he should be?”

“Yeah! That’s it. That’s how I should write it, right? The strain is getting to him as well, he can’t emotionally cope with what they’re going through. Ooo- I could make it a whole piece about male coping strategies. Or toxic masculinity maybe. He doesn’t talk to her because he feels like he has to keep it locked up. Yes! This is perfect.” Flapping her arms about, almost dropping her wine glass, Alice raced around her study looking for her notebook. I’ve done it! I’ve got it, arg, finally!

“No.”

The single word from Jenny stopped Alice short and she stared at her sister in confusion.

“No, Jenny, trust me, this is it. This works-”

“Sis,” Jenny said with a condescending sigh. “You know writing. I know men. That’s not someone struggling to cope. Those are the signs of a man having an affair.”

“What? No. No, they’re sweethearts. Been together since high school.”

“It’s not always a love story Alice. Not paying attention, being careful where they’re seen in public together, vague about the whole work cover story thing. I’ve been there. It’s an affair.” Jenny leant forward and picked up another biscuit. “Though that would make a good plot twist. Build it all up as this big love story, then bam, throw another woman in there. Oh, or a man. Spice it up a bit, you know.”

Alice just stared as her sister kept babbling on, but her vision was elsewhere.

The rushing to get to his phone first.

The phone calls in other rooms.

The late nights in the office.

The need to keep saying ‘I love you’, even though he hasn’t needed to say it for years.

The way another woman keeps happening to be in all his stories.

Alice turned and look down at her husband again. He was laughing with a group of friends, but all Alice could focus on was the gentle way his hand rested on the small of Olivia’s back. Just like it used to rest on hers, back when they were younger. In those days he hovered about her side, showing her off to anyone he could. Now every glance was a guilty confession, as he waited for the day she realised.

“No,” Alice said, cutting off whatever her sister had gotten onto now. “It’s not always a love story.”