Me and My Sisters (34 page)

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Authors: Sinead Moriarty

BOOK: Me and My Sisters
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‘Is it really all gone?’ Mum whispered, as Gavin swung Jess around in circles. ‘All of it?’

‘Yes.’

‘There must be a way of salvaging some of it. I’ll go through the legal work for you,’ Louise said. She looked as exhausted as I felt.

‘I’ve been poor for ages,’ Julie said. ‘I can show you how to live on very little.’ She looked awful, too. They must have all been up worrying about me last night.

‘How long have you known?’ Mum asked.

‘Ages. I just couldn’t face telling anyone. It’s all so real now.’

‘There, there, we’re all here to help.’ Mum rubbed my back. ‘You look worn out. Sit down now and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea and we’ll get those cars loaded.’

‘We don’t have any cups, Mum, they’re all packed. Come on, let’s just get it over with.’

The van Dad had borrowed and Julie’s car held most of our things. The rest went into the boot of the beaten-up Ford Fiesta that Jack had brought back from the garage when he’d traded in the Aston Martin and my Range Rover.

Jess sensed the tension and began to get upset. She kept asking why we were bringing so much stuff if we were just going on holiday.

I bent down. ‘Jess, sweetheart, we won’t be coming back to this house. We’ll be going to a different one after our stay with Granny. This house is too big for just the three of us. We’re going to find somewhere more cosy.’

‘But I like this house.’

‘We’ll find another nice one, I promise.’

‘But what about my
Princess and the Frog
duvet?’

‘I’m bringing that.’

‘What about my princess bed?’

For Jess’s fourth birthday I had ordered a custom-made bed that looked like a huge throne and was hand-painted with scenes from her favourite movie –
The Princess and the Frog.
It was a work of art. She absolutely loved it.

‘I’m sorry, pet, we can’t fit it into the car. But we’ll get you a nice new one soon.’


Nooo
,’ she sobbed. ‘I want my bed. Everything is yucky now. I hate it. You and Daddy are mean to each other and Mimi’s gone and you have sad eyes all the time. I don’t go to ballet or drama or swimming or anything any more and I don’t go on play-dates. I don’t want a new house, I want
this
house. I don’t want a new bed, I want my princess bed.’ I put my arms round her and she sobbed into my shoulder.

Dad knelt down beside her. ‘Jessica, listen to your granddad. If you want that bed, then I’ll get it for you. I’m going upstairs now to bring it down and we’ll set it up in your mum’s old bedroom in our house.’

Dad stormed up the stairs, followed by Gavin and Jack. They came down carrying the bed and, with a lot of shouting, cursing and manoeuvring, somehow managed to tie it to the roof of the van.

While they did that, Julie fed Jess chocolate buttons and sang her funny songs to make her laugh. She cheered up in no time.

Louise pulled me aside. ‘What happened to the money Dad gave you?’ she asked. ‘That should tide you over for a while.’

I winced. ‘It went down in the Ponzi scheme – and please don’t say I should have given it to you to invest. I’m all too aware of the stupid mistakes I’ve made and the ridiculous amount of money I wasted on material things. I’ve been a total idiot.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ Louise sighed. ‘We all make mistakes. Let me go through Jack’s contracts. Maybe I can salvage something.’ She patted my arm.

We walked outside and I went over to Jess and Julie. Jess had chocolate all over her face and looked happy. ‘I ate some chocolate, Mummy, but I’ll brush my teeth when we get to Granny’s.’

I kissed her. ‘You can have any treat you want today, baby. Are you OK now?’

‘Yes. Julie told me funny songs and then she said that all men are very silly billies and that us girls need to stick together. She said when I grow up I should study hard like Louise and never get married.’

‘She’s right.’

‘But princesses always get married to princes.’

‘Sometimes princes aren’t what they seem,’ Julie said.

‘Why don’t we live in a castle together? Just us girls,’ I suggested.

‘What about Daddy?’

‘He could live in the dungeon with Uncle Harry,’ Julie said.

‘Bloody good idea,’ I agreed.

‘But it’s dark and cold down there,’ Jess reminded us.

‘Yes, I know.’ Julie sighed.

‘Right, then, we’re all packed up,’ Dad said.

Jack came over to us. ‘Do you want to go in and say goodbye to the house, Jess?’ he asked.

‘No, thank you, Daddy. I did it already.’

‘Sophie?’

I shook my head. ‘No point looking back.’

He shut the front door and slid the key under the mat.

As we were driving away, Jess piped up, ‘Daddy, Auntie Julie wants to put you and Harry in the dungeon.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, and Mummy said it was a bloody good idea.’

31

Julie

I couldn’t believe it: Sophie and Jack were homeless … It was shocking. They’d been so wealthy, had had so much – how could they suddenly have nothing? Everyone kept muttering about a Ponzi scheme and shaking their heads. I felt sorry for Jack: he’d lost loads of weight, his eyes were all red and bloodshot and his hair was suddenly speckled with grey.

But I’d got a real fright when I saw Sophie. She was skin and bone and she had aged ten years. Her normally thick, shiny hair was limp and greasy. She looked completely drained and had huge black circles under her eyes. And poor little Jess didn’t know what was going on.

The whole situation was just awful. When we’d finished packing the cars, I drove back to Mum and Dad’s house with Louise. I desperately wanted to tell her about Harry’s affair, but I just couldn’t get the words out. How would I start? ‘Hey, Lou, how’s Clara? By the way, Harry’s screwing a French bird.’ It wasn’t easy admitting your husband was a cheat.

‘What a bloody mess.’ Louise peeled off her jumper. ‘How could they have been so stupid, investing in a Ponzi scheme?’ She had put on weight, which was unlike her. She’d been a size ten since she was sixteen. She looked exhausted, too. Clara must still be up at night.

I stopped at the traffic lights. ‘Sophie said lots of the top hedge funds in New York jumped into the scheme. It’s not as if Jack’s company was the only one.’

‘I know, Julie, but to leverage yourselves so high that you lose everything? It’s just crazy. You have to spread your investments wide.’

‘A lot of people have lost their shirts in the last year or two, even really smart people with lots of experience,’ I reminded her.

‘I suppose you’re right, but they seem to have absolutely nothing left. Jack even put Sophie’s rainy-day money into it.’

‘Oh, shit – really? I thought she gave it to you.’

‘She said she trusted Jack to invest it.’

‘Yikes. By the way, how is my money doing?’ I asked. Now that my husband was screwing a French slut, I’d need it to raise my family.

‘Very well. It’s worth a hundred and two thousand now.’

I turned to smile at her. ‘Wow, that’s brilliant. Thank God I let you look after it.’

‘I wish Sophie had done the same thing.’

‘I’m sure she does too. How did you get Gavin home by the way? Mum’s thrilled.’

‘It wasn’t hard. He was broke and his usual bank-roller, Sophie, wouldn’t answer his calls. He was also damp and cold and miserable. The novelty had worn off. I just told him I’d fly him and Acorn home and he could save the world from an office.’

‘That was it?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘He’s no martyr to the cause, is he?’

We laughed. It felt good. I hadn’t laughed in weeks.

‘How’s Clara?’ I asked.

‘Well, the reflux is much better, thank God, but she had a tummy bug this week, so I was up all night minding her and then I got the bloody bug. I’ve actually had the week from hell. Just when I thought everything was sorted and I had my life back, it all went pear-shaped again.’ Louise tugged at her fringe. Her normally perfectly blow-dried black bob was pulled back in a ponytail.

‘Sorry to burst your bubble, but you never get your life back. You get a different life. One that never goes according to plan. One that you have to be flexible, patient and adaptable to get through. On all really important days they’ll get sick, or fall over and break their arm or set the house on fire or something.’

‘Gee, thanks, Julie, you really know how to make someone feel better.’

I shrugged. ‘Life’s a bitch.’

Louise leant her head back against the car seat. ‘I messed up badly in work.’

‘What? You’ve never messed up in your life.’ I was genuinely shocked: Louise was the most meticulous person I knew, which was what made her such a brilliant lawyer.

‘I was so busy vomiting and trying to keep my eyes open that I missed a mistake in a very important acquisition. It’s all been sorted now, but it could have been catastrophic. The reason I missed it was because I took a short cut. Something I’d never done before in twenty years. I can’t believe it – I can’t believe I did that. It’s just not me. I don’t cut corners. I’m not that person, which is why I’m successful.’

‘Give yourself a break. You had no sleep and you had a vomiting bug. Ninety-nine per cent of the population wouldn’t have got out of bed in the first place.’

‘It’s no excuse. If I’d printed out the documents instead of checking them on the screen, I would have spotted the error.’

‘Did Alex find out?’

‘Yes, and he’s furious. I managed to fix the problem, but it reflected really badly on me. Since Clara came along I’ve been averaging three hours’ sleep a night. Alex thinks I’m losing my edge. And the awful thing is, Julie, he’s right. I am. I can’t work at my level without sleep.’

I reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘It’s only temporary, Lou, I promise. She’ll start sleeping through the night regularly soon enough and you’ll feel more like yourself. Come on, she’s only four months old. Most normal women don’t go back to work for at least six months.’

‘Meredith did it, and she managed fine.’

‘Yes, but you said she has a husband who helps her out. You’re on your own, which is much harder.’

‘I don’t know what to do. I can’t afford to mess up. I’m just praying that Clara doesn’t get sick again. I need to prove myself. I need to get back to my best.’

‘I don’t know how you do it. I can barely get through the day and all I have to do is housework. The idea of negotiating multimillion-pound deals would freak me out.’

‘Well, I don’t know how you do it with four kids. I honestly had no idea it was this hard. I know it’s a cliché, but until I had Clara I really didn’t get it. It’s a parallel universe. It’s so consuming and tiring and relentless. I know you’re going to think I’m a rotten human being for admitting this, but some nights when Clara cries for hours and hours, I feel like walking out the door and never coming back.’

I threw my head back and whooped. ‘Louise, I feel like that every single day!’

Louise’s head snapped around. ‘Do you? I thought you loved being a mum.’

‘I hate it. It’s pure drudgery.’

‘But you always seem so happy with the kids.’

‘All I do is roar at them day and night.’

‘I know you shout a bit, but only to stop them doing mad things or hurting themselves. I always thought you found motherhood really fulfilling. You have a lovely relationship with the boys. I see a really strong bond between you.’

‘Bond!’ I snorted. ‘Most of the time they hate me. And as for fulfilling, it’s not – not for me anyway. Sure there are days when the triplets are good and we’re playing a game and laughing and I think, Wow, this is it, this is family life, happiness, fulfilment, but it only ever lasts about five minutes. One of them will smack another, all hell will break loose and I’ll start shouting again. There’s nothing about the daily grind that I like – cleaning, cooking, shopping, laundry … I’m not saying I don’t love every hair on their heads. I’m not saying there aren’t moments when I love them so much I can’t breathe. But most of the time I find parenthood a pain in the arse, to be honest.’

Louise stared at me, open-mouthed. ‘I’d no idea you felt that strongly about it.’

‘Maybe if I had money and was able to pay someone to mind them one afternoon a week it’d be easier. I do think that a big part of the problem is that I never get a second to myself. If it’s not Tom, it’s the triplets. It’s relentless.’

‘What about Harry? Why don’t you get him to look after them on Saturday mornings for a few hours and let you have some time out?’

‘Because Harry is a selfish prick.’ I smacked the steering-wheel for emphasis.

‘Harry?’ Louise looked startled.

‘Yes,’ I said, through gritted teeth.

‘But he always seems so hands-on.’

‘He can’t handle the four boys at the same time. He panics. Besides, he’s too busy with work and other stuff at the moment to give us the time of day.’

‘Are you still annoyed with him for forgetting your birthday?’

‘Yes, but, Louise, something terrib–’

‘You know,’ she interrupted me, ‘I think you’re lucky with Harry. He’s a good guy – solid, reliable, into his kids. Look at Jack! Millionaire one day, destitute the next. Who wants that? Harry may never earn big bucks, but he’ll always bring home a regular salary and you won’t ever have to worry about being homeless. There is a lot to be said for that.’

‘Yes, but –’

‘Look, Julie, I understand that you’re angry about your birthday, but as husbands go, Harry’s pretty great. Since I had Clara I’ve been looking at men in a whole new light. I used to think that if I ever ended up with someone he’d be career-focused, driven, ambitious and hard-working. Now I’d like to meet a domestic god. I’d love him to stay at home with Clara while I go out to work and bring home the bacon. I want to meet someone reliable, trustworthy, calm, considerate, mellow, laid-back.’

It was my turn to be shocked. ‘Laid-back?’

‘I know. Would you ever have imagined I’d say that? But it’s true. I need to meet the polar opposite of me. I need a Mr Mum.’

‘Be careful what you wish for. Men are not what they seem. They can surprise you even when you think you know them really well,’ I muttered darkly.

‘You have a point there, all right. Jack certainly gave Sophie the surprise of her life, didn’t he? Poor Sophie … She really loved her lifestyle.’

‘Who wouldn’t? She lived like a queen. It must have been fantastic. They both seemed so happy all the time, never stressed, never tired or grumpy … They seemed so carefree.’ I sighed.

‘Yes, but Sophie’s life lacked purpose. She must have been bored.’

‘I’d never be bored with time to myself,’ I said, parking the car in my parents’ driveway.

‘Me neither. Come on, we’d better get this stuff unloaded. Clara’s due a bottle soon,’ Louise said, jumping out of my people-carrier, which was now parked beside Sophie and Jack’s Fiesta.

Within half an hour the boxes and cases had been unloaded and stored in our old bedrooms. Dad and Gavin had just about managed, with a lot of cursing and roaring from Dad, to get Jess’s princess bed up the narrow staircase.

When we had finished, Mum sat us down to a big fry-up. Everyone tucked in, even Sophie, but I played with my food. Since I’d found out about Harry’s affair, I had lost my appetite. Typical: now that I was losing the weight I’d always wanted to, my husband was staring at someone else’s bum. I tried not to cry.

‘Dude, what are you doing?’ Acorn said, as Gavin took a huge bite of a bacon sandwich.

‘Newsflash: Gavin is not vegan. He loves meat,’ Louise said, giving Clara her bottle.

‘Is she serious?’ Acorn glared at him.

He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I tried, I really did, but I can’t live on couscous and falafel. I’m starving all the time.’

‘You’re very thin,’ Mum noted.

‘But you seemed so into it,’ Acorn said.

‘I was trying to impress you.’ Gavin put down his bacon sandwich guiltily.

‘Let the poor lad eat meat. What difference does it make to the trees, anyway?’ Dad asked.

‘Vegans see life as a phenomenon to be treasured, revered and respected. We don’t see animals as the enemy, to be subdued, or as the materials for food or fabric, put on Earth for human use.’ Acorn sounded a bit like one of those religious zealots.

‘This pig was respected. These rashers come from a free-range pig farm in Wexford.’ Mum was offended.

‘He was slaughtered for this meal,’ Acorn countered.

‘Gavin looks malnourished. Clearly the vegan diet doesn’t suit him,’ Louise pointed out.

‘I thought you lot were all into love and compassion,’ Dad said.

‘We are,’ Acorn replied.

‘Well, have some compassion for Gavin’s empty stomach and let him eat what he wants.’

‘I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t mean to let you down, but I just can’t do it.’ Gavin reached over and took her hand.

Acorn shook him away and stood up. ‘I can’t be with someone who doesn’t have the same ethical commitment and moral convictions as I do. Someone who doesn’t see that there is no moral justification for using non-humans for our purposes.’

‘He hasn’t killed anyone. It’s only a few rashers,’ Mum riposted.

‘I’ve been a vegan all my life. I can’t change who I am.’

‘So just accept him for who he is,’ Sophie said.

‘But I don’t know who he is because he lied to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.’ She turned to Gavin. ‘Willow, don’t call me unless you’re willing to commit yourself fully and honestly to veganism.’ With that, Acorn picked up her grubby rucksack and flounced out of the door.

We all turned to Gavin. ‘Are you OK?’ I asked.

He took a large bite of his bacon sandwich, chewed and swallowed. ‘Even girls who look that good can do your head in after a while.’

‘Yet another of Gavin’s obsessions bites the dust.’ Louise grinned.

‘Why was the pretty girl so cross, Auntie Julie?’ Jess asked me.

‘Because Uncle Gavin lied to her. And men who lie are very, very naughty.’

After lunch, during which Jack didn’t open his mouth and ate even less than I did, Louise and Dad took him aside to discuss his financial and legal affairs. Clara was having a nap. Gavin was playing with Jess in the garden. Sophie was curled up on the couch and Mum and I were clearing up.

My phone rang: Harry. I stepped into the hall.

‘Hi, Julie, are you coming back soon?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. I thought you might be finishing up.’

‘Well, I’m not.’

‘Jesus, Julie, can you please stop snapping at me? I’ve apologized ten million times about forgetting your birthday. Can we not move on now?’

I still hadn’t confronted Harry. I’d thought about doing it a million times, but I couldn’t. I was terrified of saying it to him and him telling me that he was leaving because he was in love with a slim, sexy French girl. Once we’d had the conversation it would be over. I’d be on my own. Broke and alone at forty, with four kids. I was petrified of facing reality. I convinced myself that I was putting it off so I could gather more evidence before confronting him, but what more did I need? He was grumpy, distracted, forgetful, absent … He didn’t love me any more and I didn’t have the courage to face it. So instead I was being horrible to him, pushing him even further away.

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