Me and My Sisters (36 page)

‘Not a bad idea.’ Sophie half smiled.

‘Don’t be too hard on him. He looks like a man going through hell. So, I guess we’re going to be housemates again.’ Gavin sat down beside Sophie and put his arm around her.

She leant her head on his shoulder. ‘Looks like it. It’s going to be very cosy for the next few weeks.’

‘It’ll be like old times.’ Gavin grinned. ‘Remember when Louise and Julie were in college and we lived here on our own with Mum and Dad? It was fun not being bossed around all the time.’

‘I never bossed you,’ Julie objected.

‘True. It was Louise – but you were hardly ever here, and when you were, you had your head permanently stuck in a book so you weren’t much fun,’ Gavin explained.

‘I didn’t boss you that much, did I?’

Gavin and Sophie laughed. ‘Come on, Louise, you can’t help it – it’s in your nature to try to sort other people’s lives out,’ Sophie said. Then, holding her hand up, she added, ‘And before you get huffy, I’m glad you do because you’ve been brilliant today at helping me.’

‘I’m glad you’ll be around, Sophie,’ Gavin told her. ‘You can keep Dad off my back. He’s on a rampage. I just got a twenty-minute lecture on getting my life together and finding a proper job … not wasting money … saving for a rainy day … look at Jack, nothing left … have to be careful with investments … be responsible … On and on he went.’

‘He’s right,’ Sophie said. ‘I’m sorry, Gavin, but it is time you got yourself together. Look at me. I’m a thirty-eight-year-old woman who can’t support her child. Do not end up like me. You’ve had twenty-three years of fun and no responsibilities, but it’s time to get a job, stop sponging off the family and pay your own way. Jack and I can’t help you out any more. Louise is now using her spare cash to bail me out and Julie doesn’t have any. Mum and Dad need what they have for their retirement. You have to stand on your own two feet.’

‘I agree,’ I said. ‘By the time we were all twenty-three we’d moved out of home, found jobs and were supporting ourselves.’

Gavin groaned. ‘I came up here to get away from Dad but you’re worse. OK, I get it, I need to grow up and be responsible. That’s why I moved back – to look for a job.’

‘Bullshit,’ I said. ‘You moved back because your tent leaked, you were starving and the novelty of shagging an Angelina Jolie lookalike in the mud had worn off. And because none of us would give you any more money to fund your “save the world” baloney.’

‘It’s not baloney,’ he said angrily.

‘It is when you’re living in a tent and not achieving anything. Get out and lobby the UK government, research alternative energies, become an environmental consultant, a climate-change strategist, a climate-policy analysis consultant. There are tons of interesting, relevant jobs that actually pay salaries.’ I had been researching the job market to give him alternative career options when the tent phase wore off, as we had all known it would.

‘Wow – I didn’t know there were so many choices.’

‘You obviously haven’t looked very hard. All you have to do is Google “climate-change jobs”,’ I told him.

‘How come there were none of those interesting kinds of jobs when we left school?’ Julie asked. ‘I would definitely have become a climate-policy analysis consultant. It sounds a lot more exciting than recruitment.’

‘I’ll tell you one thing,’ Sophie said. ‘Jess is going to study hard and get a good job in a steady profession. There’s no way she’s going to end up being a model. She needs something solid and safe, like the law. Look at you, Louise, you’re completely independent. You’re not relying on any man to pay your mortgage or your bills. I really admire you for it, and I want that for Jess. I don’t want her depending on her husband for everything like I do.’

‘Be careful what you wish for,’ I warned her. ‘My life used to be great, totally under control, until I had Clara. But as I found out all too recently, it’s bloody difficult juggling motherhood and work. For the first time in my life, I’m really struggling with something. I want Clara to have a career but I would never, ever want her to bring up a baby alone. You need two parents to share the load. Nannies don’t pace the floor with them at three in the morning when they’re screaming or throwing up, but a dad would. It’s lonely doing it all on your own – and, to be honest, it’s scary too. You guys are really lucky to have nice husbands to help you look after and raise your kids.’

Julie burst into tears.

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. ‘What did I say?’

‘Nothing, you’re just so right. Kids do need their dads. They really do.’

My phone beeped. It was an email from Alex:
Gordon has gone back to New York. He was not happy with the purchase price error, despite it being resolved. He has asked Dominic to represent him on a large merger he is involved in. Dominic leaves for New York on Tuesday. He will be gone for at least three weeks, so I need you to cover his files. We’re meeting at seven thirty on Monday morning to discuss the hand-over.

‘Bastard.’ I threw my phone on to the bed.

‘What happened?’ Sophie asked.

‘I messed up at work and now Dominic, the junior partner, is getting a huge contract that should have been mine. Christ, it’s so bloody frustrating. How can I compete with someone ten years younger than me who gets eight hours’ sleep a night and plays golf like a bloody pro? He can stay out drinking and smoking cigars until three in the morning while I have to go home to Clara. I can’t compete. It’s no longer a level playing field. Before Clara, I could keep up with the best of them. I never drank much, but I stayed out and talked and schmoozed and won business. I can’t do it any more. I’m tied down. I’m shackled. I’m screwed. God, I hate men!’

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Sophie said.

‘Me too.’ Julie sniffled.

‘Hey, we’re not all arseholes,’ Gavin reminded us. ‘And you women are no picnic either, let me tell you.’

‘I don’t go around stabbing my colleagues in the back,’ I snapped.

‘I don’t lose millions,’ Sophie said.

‘I don’t screw –’

Mum came into the room, interrupting Julie. She handed me Clara. ‘Louise, your daughter has a smelly nappy. I’ve fed her and burped her but you can change her.’

The others left the room. Sighing, I changed my baby’s nappy and pictured Dominic’s transatlantic flight crashing into the sea.

33

Sophie

It was actually a relief to come clean. It was out in the open now. I didn’t have to hide any more, pretend I was sick, act as if nothing was wrong and lie to everyone. They all knew we were broke.

Louise had been amazing – it had been brilliant to move into her apartment. Mum and Dad were great to take us in, but it had been cramped and tense. Jack couldn’t relax and spent most of his time in the bedroom on his laptop.

Jess was still on her summer holidays, so I had to keep her occupied during the day. When we went out as a family, it was always a disaster – Jack and I either fought or didn’t speak to each other. I spent a lot of time with Gavin and Jess, hanging out in the park. On rainy days, Jess and I would curl up on the couch and watch movies.

It was hard not having any money to spend. I kept forgetting I was penniless and going to buy things. Before when I got petrol I would always have bought at least three magazines in the shop. Now I couldn’t. When I was out walking, I looked in the window of every boutique I passed, but could no longer go in and buy anything I wanted. I had to think about and justify every euro I spent. It was a difficult adjustment.

Quentin called me back, and instead of the story Louise told me to tell him, I blurted out the truth. I said I was desperate, that I’d take any job he had going. I even offered to be his driver. He was very kind and sympathetic and we arranged to meet when he got back from his business trip to London.

I dressed up for the interview in one of the few outfits I hadn’t put up for sale on eBay. It was a light grey Armani trouser suit that was businesslike but flattering. I spent ages applying my makeup. My skin was dry, patchy and lined from stress. I couldn’t afford expensive creams or Botox any more, so my wrinkles were back with a vengeance. For the first time in my life, I looked my age. I used lots of concealer and the end result wasn’t too bad. I didn’t look like me. I looked like an older, more stressed, worried and tired version.

‘You look nice, Mummy,’ Jess said.

‘Thank you, angel.’ I kissed her, careful not to get lipstick on her face.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Actually, you’re going to stay here with Daddy. I’m going to an interview to get a new job.’

‘Why?’

I decided to be honest. ‘Because we need money.’

‘Does Daddy not have any left now his job is gone away?’

‘At the moment, no. But hopefully he’ll find a new job soon.’

Her lip began to wobble. ‘But if you and Daddy are working, who will mind me? I’ll be all by my own.’

I hugged her. ‘You will never be on your own. Lots of children have mummies and daddies who work and they have minders, like Mimi, who look after them.’

‘Is Mimi coming back?’ She looked thrilled.

‘No, Jess. At the moment Daddy has no job so he’s going to look after you. If he gets a new job, we’ll sort something out.’

‘If Daddy gets a new job, you can stop working. You always said it was better for mummies to be at home to look after their little girls.’

‘Well, that was before I realized that sometimes it’s better for mummies to work too.’

‘Why?’ She frowned. She did that a lot these days.

‘Because then if the daddy loses his job, the mummy can still pay for things.’

‘But you said that happy mummies didn’t have to work because the daddies made lots of money and the mummies could spend it on treats. And you said that I should marry a man like Daddy who makes lots and lots of money so I could have lots of beautiful things and look like a princess and never have to work.’

Had I really said that to my child? What kind of ideals was I teaching her?

‘OK, Jess, I need you to listen to me. Mummy was wrong when she said that. It is very, very, very important that you work hard in school and get a job when you’re older.’

‘But I’m going to be a model like you, Mummy.’

I pulled her on to my knee. ‘No, pet. I want you to be a doctor or a lawyer or an accountant. Modelling is not a very good job.’

‘But you said you loved it and Daddy said he married you because you were the most beautiful model in Ireland.’

‘Modelling is a job you do when you’re young. I’m too old for it now. You need to have a job you can do for a long time, like Auntie Louise.’

‘But she’s cross all the time and she’s always shouting into her phone.’

‘Louise is a very good person. She gave us her lovely apartment to live in, so we have to be extra nice to her because she helped us out a lot.’

Jess curled my hair around her index finger. ‘She’s good at sharing.’

‘Yes, she is. And Louise was able to help us because she worked hard in school and has a good job. I don’t want you ever to be stuck with no money, pet. It’s scary. So that’s why I want you to work even when you get married and even when you have children. It will keep you and your family safe.’

‘But, Mummy, if you’re too old to be a model now, what job are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to look after young models and help them get jobs. I’m going to be like a mummy to them.’

Jess’s eyes filled. ‘But you’re not their mummy, you’re my mummy. I need you to look after me.’

I held her face in my hands. ‘Jess, I will always be your mummy and you will always be the most important person in my life. I love you more than anything in this world and I’m always going to look after you, I promise. Now I have to go.’ I kissed her and walked out of the door before I burst into tears and ruined my makeup.

I paused outside the front door of Beauty Spot. This was the agency that had launched my career, the agency that had represented me for fourteen years. It felt very strange walking in, although the décor hadn’t changed much. The office was on the first floor of an old Georgian building in the centre of Dublin. It was actually only a five-minute walk from Louise’s apartment.

The carpet had been updated from a dark blue to a dark green, but that was all. The reception area was still bright, with two comfy couches and a coffee-table laden with fashion magazines. Photos of the agency’s better-known models covered the walls. My picture was still up there – a black-and-white photo taken when I was twenty. I was wearing a bikini and a big straw hat. I looked gorgeous – young, happy, carefree, wrinkle-free, stress-free, debt-free …

The receptionist was new. She asked me to have a seat while I waited for Quentin. I flicked through the magazines on the coffee-table. Usually I would have stopped every time I saw something I liked and noted it on a piece of paper. Now I just kept flicking, looking but not seeing.

Quentin came out, wearing red trousers, a blue-and-red striped shirt and a lemon jacket – somehow he got away with it. He hugged me. ‘Darling Sophie, you look wonderful. Come on in.’

He led me into his office, which was completely minimalist except for a large colour photo of his current pug. Quentin was obsessed with pugs – whenever one died, he immediately replaced it.

‘New dog?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I called her Stella.’

‘What happened to Coco?’

‘Oh, honey, she died a million years ago. Since then I’ve had Dior, who choked on a chicken bone – very traumatic, I didn’t get out of bed for three weeks after it – and Galliano, who got run over.’

‘Sorry for your loss,’ I said, sitting down.

‘Not as sorry as I am for yours. Is it all gone, darling? Everything?’

I nodded. ‘Every last penny.’

‘It’s a travesty, and you were so well suited to the good life. When you met Jack, I knew he was perfect. Handsome, confident, successful, and he adored you. It’s a nightmare for you, but you’ll bounce back. I always said you were one of the hardest-working girls I ever had on my books.’

I willed myself not to break down. ‘Thanks, Quentin, it’s been a shitty few months, but I need to start looking forward, not back.’

‘How right you are. That’s what my therapist kept saying after Dior passed away. Now, as I told you on the phone, I’ve already hired a booker to replace Jill. She’s not amazing, but she’s a lot better than the first two I found. I think what we’ll do is get you to work with her. You can be like an assistant to her and then when you get up to speed you can start booking the girls directly.’

‘That would be brilliant. When can I start?’

He clapped his hands, like a little child. ‘Eager! That’s the way I like it. You can start on Monday. We’ll say ten till four for the first two months, until you’re trained up, and then you can go nine to five. But, Sophie, I have to warn you, I can’t pay you much starting out. Our bookings are still down twenty per cent. After tax you’ll only be taking home sixteen hundred a month. But as soon as you start booking the girls yourself, you’ll be on commission so it’ll go up considerably.’

I stood up and grasped his hands. ‘That’s fine. I’ll take it. Thank you, Quentin. I promise I’ll do my very best for you.’

He kissed my cheek. ‘I know you will. It’s good to have you back.’

I left the agency on a high. I had a job! I had managed to get myself employed after six years out of the workplace. I was thrilled. I went for a celebratory cup of tea – coffee was too expensive – in a café around the corner and dug out a pen and paper. I began to break down my earnings. We’d been living rent free in Louise’s flat but I was determined to give her something as soon as I got paid. She had admitted that nine hundred a month would cover her mortgage. That left seven hundred for petrol, insurance, tax, phone bills, electricity, heating and food. Last month all of our bills and sundries had come to almost six hundred euros. That left a hundred for extras.

I shook my head. Two months ago I would have spent a hundred euros on a T-shirt that I would have put into my wardrobe and probably never worn.

When I got home there was a note from Jack saying he had taken Jess to the park. I called his mobile. ‘I got the job!’

‘Brilliant. Well done. How much are you on?’

‘Sixteen hundred.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s all he can afford right now.’

‘Did you ask for more? Did you try to negotiate?’

‘No, I bloody didn’t. He’s doing me a huge favour, Jack. No one else would hire me. I haven’t worked for six years. I’m an ex-model, not a neurosurgeon.’

‘OK, OK. I just thought it would be more, that’s all.’

‘Well, at least one of us will be earning and I’ll be on commission soon so it’ll go up. I start on Monday, so you’re going to be looking after Jess full-time from then.’

‘I can’t! I need time to look for jobs.’

‘You can do that while she’s playing with her dolls or colouring.’

‘I’m not going to call people while my daughter is singing beside me or asking me questions. It doesn’t look very professional.’

‘So put a movie on for her and call them from the bedroom.’

‘It’s not a solution, Sophie. I need a couple of free days a week to focus on finding a job.’

‘I’m going to be working full-time and there isn’t any money for childcare so you’re just going to have to multitask. Women do it all the time.’

‘Don’t start with that feminist crap.’

‘It’s not crap, it’s true.’

‘Daddy!’ Jess called.

‘Hold on,’ Jack said to her. ‘I’m talking to Mummy.’

‘Mummy,’ my daughter came on the phone, ‘did you get the job?’

‘Yes, sweetie, I did.’

Jess burst into tears.

‘It’s OK – I’ll still see you all the time and Daddy’s going to look after you while I’m working.’

‘Everything’s different and I hate it. I want it to be the same again. I want to go back to our house and see my friends.’

‘I’m sorry, pet. I know it’s been hard for you, but sometimes change can be good. It’s all going to be OK. No more crying. I’m going to make chocolate Rice Krispies cakes to celebrate my new job.’

‘Really? Will you? I thought I wasn’t allowed to eat them because they’re bad for my teeth and my skin.’

‘Well, today you can. You can help me make them and you can lick the chocolate off the spoon.’

‘Oh, Mummy, I can’t wait.’ She squealed with delight.

Later that night, when Jess was asleep and Jack had gone out to meet some old colleagues for a drink to talk about possible jobs, Julie called.

‘Hi! Sorry I didn’t ring earlier. How did you get on today?’

‘I got the job. I start on Monday,’ I said, feeling proud of myself. It was a strange sensation, one I hadn’t felt in a long time. I had been happy with my life and the way I looked, but I hadn’t felt real pride in myself for achieving something in ages. It felt good.

‘Well done! That’s bloody brilliant. Good for you.’

‘I can’t believe it, really, me going back to work.’

‘I hope you’re celebrating with a glass of wine.’

‘Unfortunately not. Jack took our last twenty quid to go and meet some guy about a job, so I’m sitting here with a cup of tea.’

‘Sod that. I’ll call around with a bottle.’

‘Brilliant.’

Julie arrived twenty minutes later with two bottles of wine. We opened one and toasted my new job. Before I had taken my first sip, Julie had downed her whole glass.

‘Thirsty?’

‘Long day.’

‘Triplets acting up?’

‘Um, yeah,’ she said, pouring herself another glass.

I suddenly noticed how thin she looked. ‘Julie, have you lost weight?’

‘Yeah, a stone.’

‘Wow, that’s great – well done. You must be pleased.’

‘I should be – I should be over the moon. I should be thrilled. I’ve wanted to shift a stone for years, but now that I have, I feel nothing. I hadn’t even noticed until I realized that my clothes were suddenly really baggy on me.’

Julie knocked back her second glass of wine. I looked at her properly – I’d been so wrapped up in my own situation that I’d barely registered other people. She was thinner and also very tired, really black around the eyes, much more so than normal. ‘Julie, is everything OK?’

She began to cry.

‘Julie, what is it? Is it the kids?’

‘No,’ she wailed.

‘Is it Harry? Did he lose his job? Oh, no – here’s me banging on about Jack’s job and everyone running to help me and Harry’s lost his too. I’m so sorry, Julie. I’ve been so selfish, going on about my situation and there’s you in a similar predicament. Look, we’ll all pitch in. We’ll work something out.’