The train pulled into Crowborough station where I was due to meet Dad for the final leg of the journey to their remote cottage. The house had once been Auntie Sandra’s second home back when she’d still worked in finance, but they’d bought it from her for a knock-down price after everything that happened. They’d needed a fresh start.
As I waited in a short queue at the exit, I noticed a tall, familiar figure threading his paper ticket through the barrier a few people ahead of me. It was my brother, Josh, with a huge suitcase and various tote bags. I tapped him on the arm once I’d emerged out the other side.
‘Hey! We must’ve been on the same train!’
He removed his earbuds and turned around, probably expecting to encounter one of his online followers, rather than his uninteresting younger sister.
‘Oh, hi. What did you say? I was just listening to a cut of my latest podcast.’
Eww. He’d launched hisYou Only Get One Bodypodcast about a year ago as an offshoot to his burgeoning Instagram account. I’d managed to make it through about three minutes of the first episode before I’d had to switch off. Yes, I only had one body. And I was quite content for it to wobble and be filled with Wagon Wheels, thank you very much.
Looking at us side by side, you’d never put us together as siblings. He was the quintessential golden-boy, sporty type: blue-eyed, tall and muscular – while I was the quintessential mousy, average type: murky-green-eyed, short and insulated by a layer of doughy softness that I never moved enough to shed. I liked to think of it as ‘stored energy’. Sure, I might not be able to outrun the zombies, but I could hole up somewhere without withering away until the rapturous commotion had (hopefully!) passed.
After Livvie’s funeral, Josh had thrown himself into his final year of studying sport and exercise science at university and, as the years went on, his body continued to harden – followed by his mind. I guessed it was only to be expected that, once Livvie had gone, mine and Josh’s connection would suffer, but the gap between us had widened so far that, these days, it felt like Clayton / Eastwood Ravine with no way across. And the fact that I worked for what he described as ‘a media outlet that purports to be progressive yet happily accepts advertising from brands who continuously exploit the earth’s resources’ only hindered my occasional efforts to construct a rickety bridge.
‘I said, “we must have been on the same train”.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah, I guess so.’
‘What’s with all the luggage? Trouble in paradise?’
He looked at me and blinked slowly before turning his gaze back to the car park.
‘I’m doing an intensive PT programme with a client nearby so I’m staying at Mum and Dad’s for the week.’
‘Gotta look fit for Santa!’
For a second I thought I saw him smile, but the expression vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
‘It’s an actor prepping for a role.’
As well as running his online training sessions, Josh also had a bunch of celebrity clients who he coached in person thanks to his high profile on social media.
‘Ooh, can you say who it is?’
‘You know I can’t.’
Josh claimed to guard his clients’ privacy with the utmost professionalism, but Elle reckoned he must offer discounts to those who tagged him in their social media workout humblebrags, since they were constantly doing so.
Josh put his earbuds back in. Charming. We stood in silence on the kerb of the collection bay. I scanned the car park, but couldn’t pick out Dad’s car among the drizzly sea of dark grey vehicles. It was unlike him to be late – he had countless train apps and always knew what time I’d arrive to the minute. He probably knew about any impending delays before the train driver did.
‘Can’t see Dad’s car, can you?’ I asked, in an attempt to jump-start another conversation.
Josh sighed and removed a single earbud.
‘Can you see Dad’s car?’ I repeated.
‘Nope.’
‘So, how’s Saskia?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Why couldn’t she come?’
‘Some work stuff.’
By ‘work stuff’ I could only presume she was working on her latest TikTok by contorting her ridiculously flexible body into letters to spell out a generic wellness statement to a trending remix of ‘Lifted’ by Lighthouse Family. Elle – who hate-followed Saskia on Instagram and kept me in the loop of the main developments of her and my brother’s increasingly public life – had deduced her influencing niche existed at the intersection of veganism, yoga and mental health. What a Venn diagram that was.
