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Authors: Sinead Moriarty

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BOOK: Mad About You
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13
 

Claire ended up babysitting for us a lot sooner than I had expected. James came home very late that Friday night with news that Henry and Imogen had invited us to a lawyers’ charity dinner in aid of animal protection on Sunday night. I thought it sounded incredibly boring and Sunday night was a ridiculous night to hold a party, but it was a chance to dress up and go out with my husband, whom I was barely seeing these days, so I agreed to go.

I got James to call Henry and see if he could get two more tickets. I thought it would be a good idea to invite Lucy and Donal. Sunday night would be perfect for them but Lucy said that unfortunately they couldn’t come because Donal was going to be in France until late Sunday night at some match. She sounded stressed so I made her promise to meet me on Monday for a quick lunch and a chat.

I was dreading seeing Imogen and having to listen to her caustic remarks, but hopefully I’d be sitting beside Henry, and I planned to drink lots of wine and let my hair down. Between worrying about Babs and Lucy, getting the children settled and starting a new job, the move to London had been exhausting. I was in need of a good night out.

I put on my Spanx and squeezed into my favourite black dress. It was covered with black beads that shimmered when I moved. I knew I looked good – it was a fail-safe dress. By the time I’d done my makeup, fixed my hair and slipped my feet into my high heels, I felt great.

When I came downstairs, James was talking to Claire
about football. She supported the same team he did – Liverpool. I think he was relieved to have something to talk to her about because she was so quiet. ‘Who’s your favourite player?’ he was asking, as I walked in.

‘Gerrard,’ she said.

James high-fived her. ‘That’s my girl, the one and only Stevie Gerrard.’

Claire blushed.

‘If he’s annoying you, Claire, tell him where to go,’ I joked.

James whistled. ‘Look at you!’

‘Great dress, Emma,’ Claire said.

‘Oooooh, Mummy, you’re all sparkly.’ Lara came over to touch the beads. ‘Will you wear this when you bring me to school on Monday?’

I laughed and rubbed her cheek. ‘I think it might be a bit too much for nine o’clock in the morning. Or, as your auntie Imogen would say, “a bit too jazzy”.’

‘I think it’s beautiful, Mummy. If I had a sparkly dress, I’d wear it all the time, even in bed.’

James walked over to hug me, and whispered in my ear, ‘I’m hoping the dress will be long gone by the time we get to bed.’

I kissed his cheek and winked at him. Yes, this dress was a sure-fire winner every time.

We kissed the children goodnight, then I put on my long black satin coat with the diamond bow clasp, made sure Claire had everything she needed and headed outside to where the cab was waiting to take us to the Gotham Club in Mayfair.

When we got there, we were greeted at the door with champagne – a very promising start. The dining room was to the left, and a waiter ushered us in. It was lit with candles and beautifully decorated, with about twelve round tables. It
would be a big night, by the look of things. Some people were already seated, while others milled about the room. There was a huge amount of air-kissing going on. We checked the room plan and headed for table nine. In the middle of each table there was an ice sculpture of an animal – ours was a horse, but its tail was already melting. James and I took our seats and kept an eye out for Henry and Imogen – in Henry’s case, because we wanted to see him; in Imogen’s case, to have advance warning of her imminent arrival.

I looked around the room, interested to see what London ladies wore to a ‘cocktail wear’ event. I have to say it was a mixed bag. I was worried I’d look drab and not chic enough, but the women were in all kinds of everything. Some were dressed up, like me, others were wearing plain shift dresses in various shades of beige, and one looked like a really trashy WAG. She had the fakest boobs I’ve ever seen, lips like pillows and a tan that would have given an orangutan a run for his money. She was wearing a skin-tight silver dress with a slit way too far up her thigh.

As I checked out the room, I caught sight of Imogen. She was standing next to an ice sculpture of a bull, chewing the ear off some poor man. She was wearing a navy silk jacket and matching navy dress. She had a scarf with horses on it around her neck and navy pumps with a one-inch heel. It was the most dressed-up I’d ever seen her.

‘Cheers, darling,’ James said, clinking his glass with mine. ‘Here’s to a good night. At last.’

‘I’ll drink to that!’ It was so lovely to be out with him and have his undivided attention – no kids, no mobile phone, no TV, no laptop, just the two of us … and a hundred strangers, but I was going to forget about them.

‘Hello!’ Henry bounded over to us. He was six foot four and very gangly. He gave James a handshake/hug, the way
men do, which I always think looks really awkward, and kissed me on both cheeks. ‘Thanks awfully for coming. I know animals aren’t really your thing, Emma.’

‘I’ll have you know I had two goldfish when I was six. They were called Tom and Jerry and they lasted five whole weeks before dying of starvation because we went on holiday and forgot about them. We came home to see two floaters in the bowl.’

James and Henry laughed. ‘You might not want to tell that story to anyone else tonight,’ Henry said, in a low voice. ‘Some people are passionate about animals, to the point of extremism.’

‘And there I was, thinking you lawyers were a boring old lot.’

‘Oh, no!’ Henry feigned shock. ‘We’re a crazy bunch when we want to be. If I’m not mistaken, someone stayed until one a.m. at last year’s event.’

We all laughed. Then Imogen came over. ‘Hello, James,’ she said, air-kissing him, ‘don’t you look marvellous?’ Then she looked me up and down. ‘And Emma, always so jazzy.’

I was determined not to let her ruin my two-glasses-of-champagne-on-an-empty-stomach buzz. ‘This old thing? You should have seen what I was going to wear.’

‘I had to talk her out of tight leather hot pants,’ James said, managing to keep a straight face.

‘He was worried one of the old lawyers might have a heart-attack, so I opted for this instead.’ I cackled.

Henry laughed and slapped James playfully on the arm, but Imogen was clearly appalled.

We were asked to take our seats and I found myself beside Henry. On my other side was the guest of honour, Paul Aldridge, a philosopher and author, who informed me that he was going to be talking to us after dinner about Animals, Ethics and the Law.

‘Excellent.’ I beamed at him as I knocked back my wine. I’d need to be anaesthetized by alcohol when he got up to speak.

Imogen was sitting on Paul’s other side and kept him in a headlock about horses for most of the meal, leaving me free to catch up with Henry.

‘How’s London been treating you so far?’ he asked.

I paused, chewing a piece of beef. I was surprised the dinner wasn’t green and vegetarian, seeing as we were all about animals and ethics. I swallowed. ‘It’s been hectic, to be honest. It all happened so quickly. James found out about the job and four weeks later we had moved country. I’m only really getting my head around it now.’

‘It can’t be easy, particularly with small children.’

The children were causing the least problems, I thought. It was my sister and my best friend who had me awake all night worrying. ‘They weren’t happy about it at first – well, Yuri wasn’t. He hates change. But he’s actually settled quite well, and Lara is really enjoying her new school.’

‘And what about James?’ Henry asked, glancing at his brother. ‘How do you think he’s finding it?’

The wine was threatening to loosen my tongue a bit too much. I tried to rein myself in. ‘He’s definitely feeling huge pressure to succeed. He’s in work almost twenty-four/seven, proving himself to everyone at the club.’

Henry nodded thoughtfully. ‘I got that impression from talking to him. He seems very stressed about their first game. I’m sure it’s tough on you, keeping the show on the road at home, but it’s very important James gets a win to boost his confidence and keep the owners and fans happy. It’s a difficult career, very high stress levels.’

I glanced at James, who was sitting almost opposite us and chatting to a couple on his left. I caught snippets of their
conversation – they were discussing rugby. I appreciated Henry’s grasp of both sides of the argument, and his tact. He was a decent man. The Hamilton boys came from good stock. I decided I could be honest with him. ‘The truth is, Henry, I’m worried,’ I admitted. ‘I’m scared that if this doesn’t work out, he’ll fall apart. He was so upset about the Ireland job. I’ve never seen him so down.’

The waiter dipped between us to clear our plates and when he had moved on Henry said, ‘James is a fighter. He’ll be all right – he’ll make this work. He’s very good at what he does and he has such a passion for it. I admire him for following that passion. There’s a lot to be said for branching out and doing something different.’

‘Yes, but it’s risky,’ I pointed out. ‘Being a lawyer is a job for life. A rugby coach is only ever a temporary job. Who knows where we’ll end up next, even if this does work out for him? I only realized the lack of security in James’s profession this year. There are no long-term jobs in this game. I Googled “rugby coaches” the other night, and four years seems to be about the average length of time for a good one to stay with a club. That means, in the best-case scenario, with everything going right for James and London Irish, we’ll have to move again when Yuri’s eight and Lara’s seven.’

Dessert arrived: chocolate cake. Large slices were placed in front of us.

‘Some very good coaches stay on longer,’ Henry said, ‘but I see your point. It is an uncertain future. But then again, Emma, no jobs are safe any longer. There is no such thing as a job for life now. We’re all at risk.’

The global economic crisis had meant that people in ‘jobs for life’ had found themselves out on the street. But, still, if Henry was laid off, he would be able to get a new job in London with another firm. Rugby coaches moved around all the
time, different countries and continents. I hated to think of Yuri having to be the new boy all over again, just when he’d become comfortable here.

Henry interrupted my thoughts. ‘I did say to James recently that it was very important for him to try to have a good work/life balance. The problem with doing something you feel so passionately about and being desperate to prove yourself is that you can lose perspective.’

‘Thanks, Henry, he needs to hear that from you. I’ve been nagging him for weeks about working late, so I’m glad you said it.’ I popped the last piece of chocolate cake into my mouth and savoured it.

Henry smiled and offered me his helping.

‘Are you mad? If I eat that – and, believe me, I’d love to – my dress will explode and my Spanx are really not attractive.’ Unfortunately, just at that moment Paul turned to us. Obviously Imogen had bored him long enough about her children and her horses.

‘What are Spanx?’ both men asked at the same time. I put down my wine glass and picked up my water. What was wrong with me? This was not the time or place to be discussing my iron underwear with my brother-in-law and a total stranger who was a fanatic about animals. For all I knew, Spanx could be made of raccoon skin, and if my dress did explode, I’d be carted off in chains by the animal police.

‘They’re just, uhm, these things that kind of suck it all in.’

‘Suck what in?’ Paul asked. He obviously wasn’t married.

‘Your flab,’ I explained, pointing to my stomach.

‘How do they do that?’ Henry chuckled mischievously.

Was he serious? Didn’t Imogen have Spanx to suck in her big arse? Clearly not. Maybe I should buy her some for Christmas.

I threw my hands dramatically into the air. ‘Isn’t it
obvious? By cutting off the circulation between your collarbone and your knees.’

Henry threw back his head and laughed, but Paul looked at me as if I was definitely mad, possibly dangerous – a species to be handled with care. I flashed him a smile to show I was joking, but he continued to stare at me in shocked silence.

Thankfully, before I could regale him with any more secrets about my undergarments, he was called upon to give his speech. He proceeded to talk at length about his book,
Animals Have Rights Too
. I tuned out as he banged on about animal welfare and ethics.

James moved over to sit beside me in Paul’s now empty chair, while Paul droned on about equality beyond humanity. ‘What about the rights of the dinner guests not to have to listen to this torturously long speech?’ James whispered. I giggled.

‘Why don’t we go and find the bar?’ I whispered back. ‘I’ll pretend I’m going to the toilet and then you follow me out.’

Three minutes later we were sitting on two high stools at the bar in the back of the club. We had left our wine glasses behind, so James ordered two mojitos and we toasted our escape.

‘This is more like it,’ James said. ‘A cocktail with my lovely wife – just perfect.’

‘Really?’ I said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I thought you’d forgotten you had a wife, let alone a lovely one.’

He put down his glass and looked at me. Then he kissed me lightly. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. It’s just …’

‘I know,’ I said gently. ‘I want you to do well, so I’m not going to get at you now about it. But we need to do more of this. We should try to go out once a week, James. It’s important.’

He held my hand. ‘I agree wholeheartedly. I’ve been
spending too much time at the club, I know that. Once this first match is out of the way, I’ll be able to relax a bit. I just need to win this one.’

‘Well, Claire said she’ll babysit anytime. So we just need to plan ahead.’

‘Good idea.’ He seemed relieved that I wasn’t giving him a hard time.

‘I find Claire a bit easier now, don’t you? She used to be so shy it was like dragging blood from a stone trying to talk to her. She seems to be coming out of herself. Thank God for Liverpool – it gives us common ground. She’s very enthusiastic about football. I said I’d try to get her tickets for a game. She doesn’t seem to have much of a life.’

BOOK: Mad About You
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