Read In My Sister's Shoes Online

Authors: Sinead Moriarty

In My Sister's Shoes (26 page)

BOOK: In My Sister's Shoes
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‘Mark does his best,’ she said.

‘That is such bullshit, Fiona! He does nothing for you or the boys. What type of a human being is absent at his family’s time of need? He checked out emotionally the minute you got sick. He called me up and passed all of his responsibilities over. Jesus, you’re his wife and they’re his kids. How can he not want to be with them more?’

‘They’re not his kids,’ Fiona said quietly.

‘What?’

‘Mark isn’t the twins’ father.’

I stared at her. ‘I don’t understand.’

She took a deep breath and, with a quavering voice, said, ‘The twins are the result of a one-night stand.’

‘What?’ I gasped.

‘Yes, Kate. Before I became a frumpy mother I was attractive to other men and I had an affair with a chemistry teacher I met at a conference in Cork.’

A maths teacher meets a chemistry teacher – it sounded like the beginning of a joke, but it wasn’t. It was real.

‘I can’t believe it. It’s so unlike you… You’re so responsible and caring and a devoted wife… and I just…’ I couldn’t find the words to explain how shocked I was. Fiona? Myelder sister? The family’s rock? The person we all went to in a crisis? The perfect wife and mother? Women like Marilyn Monroe had affairs. Women like Fiona baked bread.

‘Well, that was exactly why it happened. I was sick of being responsible. Mark and I had been married a couple of years and he was working all the hours in the day to further his career. He was distracted, distant and unaffectionate. The fun and passion were gone. I was only thirty and the idea that this was going to be my life for ever terrified me. So, I did something completely out of character when I met a man who lavished me with attention. He was good-looking, charming, sexy and completely unsuitable. He told me I was beautiful and desirable, so I got drunk and slept with him. It was the exact opposite of what everyone would expect me to do and it was incredibly liberating.’

‘Liberating?’

‘Don’t you dare judge me. You’re in no position to judge anyone,’ she said, beginning to cry.

‘I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand – but however you look at it, you cheated on Mark.’

‘I’m perfectly aware of what I did. Obviously I felt absolutelyawful about it afterwards, and when I discovered I was pregnant, I knew Mark couldn’t be the father because we hadn’t had sex in months. So I had to confess – Mark’s a maths professor so he can count,’ she said, with a watery half-smile.

‘What did he say? He must have gone mad.’

I tried to picture Mark coming in from a day of solving maths problems or whatever he did: ‘Hi, honey, how was your day?’ ‘Fine, by the way we’re having twins and they’re not yours. Cup of tea?’

‘It was horrible,’ Fiona sobbed, bringing me back to reality. ‘He was shocked. He felt betrayed and humiliated, and threatened to leave me. But I spent weeks on my knees begging him to forgive me, and eventually he did. The strange thing about it was that it brought us closer together for a while.’

‘But what happened when the twins were born? It must have been weird for him. Does he consider them his own?’

‘At first he pulled away. He couldn’t cope with the babies and he got angry with me, and bitter. He kept being reminded of what I’d done when he looked at them. But they were so sweet and affectionate that after a few months, almost despite himself, he grew to love them.’

‘Does anyone else know?’

‘Only us and now you.’

‘Is Mark’s name on the birth cert?’

Fiona nodded. ‘Yes, it was a hard thing to do, but he agreed to it. He’s a really good person, Kate.’

I never thought I could feel sorry for Mark but…

‘Whatever happened to the chemistry teacher? Does he have any idea that he has two kids running around?’ I asked.

‘No. As I said, it was a one-night stand and he was married with kids of his own. He wouldn’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned they’re Mark’s children.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘I regret hurting Mark more than anything, but those boys are the loves of my life and, in a strange way, theysaved our marriage.’ She blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

‘Does Mark want to have kids of his own?’

‘The twins are his children,’ Fiona said defensively.

‘Well, technically, they aren’t.’

‘He’s their father in every way. But to answer your question, yes, he would like more children, as would I, but we tried for a couple of years after the twins were born with no success. It began to drive us apart so we stopped for a while. When I got sick it made us face the issue again and that’s why I was so desperate to freeze some eggs. I want to give Mark a baby. But he said my health was more important and I’m to concentrate on getting better, but we’ve agreed to try again when my treatment is over – if I have any eggs left.’

‘Do you ever think about the other man?’

‘Never.’

‘Do the boys look like him?’

‘No, they look like Mark.’

In a strange way, they did. Maybe they had morphed into him so it was easier for him to love them. I looked at Fiona, mysister, the scarlet woman, and shook my head.

You think you know someone – and
bam
! They shock you to the very core.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I kept thinking about Fiona, the affair and the twins. She couldn’t totally regret being unfaithful because the twins were the result of it and they were her pride and joy. If she hadn’t had the affair, would she and Mark have had children of their own? Maybe, but they’d have been different kids. Not the Jack and Bobby we all love. Maybe they’d still be trying and have no kids. Maybe they’d have separated. It seemed strange that something as wonderful as the boys could come out of something that was morally wrong. But Fiona was such a good person and had sacrificed so much for everyone else in her life – maybe God and Fate had decided to give her a break on this one, a sort of payback for having been so selfless for so long. I tried to imagine a chemistry teacher who looked like George Clooney, but I kept coming up with the image of Albert Einstein. Eventually I fell asleep and dreamt of women in négligées dancing around Bunsen burners.

The next morning, thankfully, was sunny. When I arrived to take the boys off to the park Mark was reading the paper and finishing his coffee while Fiona was upstairs getting them ready.

‘Hey, Mark, what are you reading? Anything interesting?’ I asked, in an over-enthusiastic manner.

He glanced at me suspiciously. ‘Just the news.’

I sat down opposite him. ‘How are you? How’s life, work, fatherhood?’

‘Kate, is something wrong?’

‘No, why?’

‘You usually only manage to grunt at me. Why the sudden interest in my state of health and what I’m reading?’

He really didn’t make it easy to like him, but I was determined to try. This was, after all, a man who had adopted two children and raised them as his own after his floozy of a wife had slept with another man – and a chemistry teacher at that. I wondered if that had bothered him. It might have been easier if she’d slept with the geography teacher – less competition.

‘Is it so unusual for a sister-in-law to ask after her brother-in-law?’ I said, smiling at him, in a slightly demented way.

‘In this case, yes.’

The twins came running in and I stared at them, scrutinizing their faces.

‘Why are you looking at me funny?’ asked Bobby.

‘Yeah, your eyes are all wide and scary,’ giggled Jack.

‘I’m not staring.’

‘Yes, you are,’ said Bobby.

‘Your aunt is behaving very strangely today, boys,’ said Mark. ‘Are you feeling all right, Kate? Do you need to go home?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, I’m fine. I was just admiring my two beautiful nephews.’

Fiona came into the room.

‘Kate’s looking at us funny, Mummy,’ said Jack. ‘Like this,’ he added, opening his eyes wide.

Fiona glared at me. ‘Is she? Why on earth would she do that?’ she barked.

‘She’s been gawping at us all since she arrived,’ said Mark.

‘I have not,’ I said, defending myself. ‘I’m just excited because it’s Fiona’s last chemo session and the end is nearly in sight.’

‘Yeah, Mummy’s nearly finished with the nasty medicine,’ said Jack, cheering and hanging on to Fiona’s leg.

‘Dad?’ said Bobby. ‘You won’t get sick, will you?’

Mark leant over so he was at eye level with his son. ‘I’ll try very hard not to. Now, who invented the first calculating machine?’

‘William something,’ said Bobby.

‘William Burns,’ said Jack.

Mark shook his head. ‘No, it was William Seward Burroughs. He was working in a bank and he came up with the idea of a mechanical device that would relieve accountants and bookkeepers of the monotony of their tasks and ensure that a smaller percentage of their time was spent correcting errors…’ On and on he droned as the boys’ eyes glazed over.

No wonder Fiona had an affair, I thought. Mark might be a nice person underneath but he’d bore you into an early grave. ‘I’ve got a good inventor question,’ I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Mark looked surprised.

‘Which inventor has kept a mouse alive for seventy-three years?’

The twins brightened up.

‘Walt Disney.’ I laughed. ‘Mickey Mouse is seventy-three years old.’

The twins giggled and even Mark cracked a smile. Maybe there was hope for him.

31

A few days later I was sitting at home, eating dinner, while Derek and Gonzo tried out new lyrics at the table beside me.

“‘Machete” doesn’t rhyme with “ghetto”,’ Derek pointed out.

‘Dude, it doesn’t always have to be an exact match. It just has to be a good story like “Stan”,’ said Gonzo.

‘Who’s Stan?’ I asked.

‘Duh, Eminem’s, like, most famous song,’ said Derek, appalled by myignorance. ‘You do know who
he
is, right?’

‘Don’t diss your sister,’ said Gonzo, leaping eloquently to my defence.

‘Yes, Derek, I do know who Eminem is. I just happen to think he’s overrated.’

‘You’re too old to appreciate the lyrical genius of the white king of rap,’ said Derek.

‘I’m not old, thank you.’

‘I think you’re the perfect age,’ said Gonzo, gazing at me.

‘They say that chicks get really horny in their thirties. Are you feeling it?’

I looked down at my jeans, which were covered in muck and sand from my day in the park with the boys. I felt about as sexy as a hippo. ‘To be honest, I think that’s a myth.’

‘Obviously you’re not having your buttons pressed properly. That dude is way too old for you.’

‘Who?’

‘The journalist guy. Derek said you went out with him.’

‘Sam’s thirty-two, Gonzo. It’s not exactly ancient.’

‘Doesn’t seem to be lighting your fire, though, does he?’

‘He’s in Australia so there’s not much he can do.’

‘Yeah, well, he shouldn’t be there. He should be here looking after his woman like a real man.’

‘He’s working. It’s a concept you may not be familiar with.’

‘Nothing would get between me and you. I’d never leave the crib.’

‘Gonzo, you don’t have a house. You still live with your parents. It’s not an ideal set-up for a relationship.’

‘I’ll get a crib soon. When Rap-sodie get signed. It’ll be big and bold.’

‘Let’s say you don’t get signed,’ I said, then seeing him bristle, I added, ‘because your genius isn’t recognized. What are you planning to do with your life?’

Gonzo stared at me as if I was mad. ‘My man Derek, a.k.a. the Poet, writes the edgiest lyrics in town. There’s no way we won’t get signed.’

Derek nodded.

You had to hand it to them, they had great self-belief. But was it delusional? Before I got the chance to probe any further about their future plans, my phone beeped. It was a text from Tara:
Early arrival this afternoon of beautiful baby girl. Kerrie Quinlan 7 pounds 3 ounces. Mother and baby doing well
.

‘Oh, my God!’ I squealed, jumping up. ‘Tara’s had her baby early. It’s a girl.’

‘I can’t believe she has a kid,’ said Derek, who had known Tara since as far back as he could remember. ‘That’s, like, really weird. She doesn’t seem that old.’

‘She’s not old. She’s the same age as me.’

‘Yeah, but now she’s a mother.’

‘And your point is?’

‘Mothers look kind of wrecked.’

‘Except foxes like Angelina Jolie,’ said Gonzo.

‘Dude, she adopted.’

‘Not the kid she had with Brad Pitt,’ said Gonzo.

‘Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. How good-looking is that chick going to be?’ said Derek.

‘Off the Richter scale,’ said Gonzo, almost salivating.

‘Well, I think it’s great news. She’ll be a brilliant mum,’ I said.

‘You’re not getting broody, are you?’ asked Derek.

‘If you are, I will be more than happy to provide the seed,’ offered Gonzo.

‘Thanks, but no, I’m not getting broody and, tempting though your offer is, I’ll pass.’

‘We’d make beautiful babies,’ Gonzo said.

I looked at him and, for the first time ever, envied him. It must be great to have such confidence and self-belief. He should bottle it and sell it.

Roxanne strolled in wearing one of Derek’s T-shirts and a pair of knickers. She opened the fridge and yawned as she rummaged for something to eat. I peered at my watch. It was eight p.m.

‘Anymore of that?’ she asked, eyeing my plate of pasta.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘Where are your clothes? It’s eight o’clock in the evening.’

‘I was out all night partying, so I’m wrecked.’

‘Were you there too?’ I asked Derek, who was looking remarkably fresh-faced.

‘No.’ He shrugged. ‘It was some friend of Roxie’s from work.’

‘A tattoo person?’ I asked.

‘No, JJ does piercings,’ said Roxanne, putting on some toast.

‘So you went to a party without Derek, then came here to sleep all day?’ I asked, annoyed. It seemed to me that Derek was being taken for a complete ride.

‘No, I went to work first, then came here to crash.’

‘Shouldn’t you be going to parties together? Wouldn’t that be normal?’

‘If you’re mutually exclusive maybe, but we’re not,’ replied the harlot.

BOOK: In My Sister's Shoes
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