Me and My Sisters (9 page)

‘He looks like Alan Sugar’s beardless brother and, no, he is not cute in any way whatsoever.’

‘Look, I’m a full-time mum, I fantasize about anyone – I even had a sex dream about George Bush, and I think he’s gross.’

‘Jesus, Julie!’

‘I know. But at least I only dream about one-night stands, as opposed to actually having them.’

‘I wish mine had been a dream. I now have Mum stalking me.’

‘Well, clearly you gave an Oscar-winning performance on the phone today. She told me you were very upset about the nasty boy dumping you and she was giving you some space.’

‘Alleluia!’

9

Sophie

I stepped out of the shower on to the warm bathroom tiles and dried myself. After moisturizing carefully with the new Crème de la Mer body cream, I shook my hair out of the shower cap, put in some heated rollers and applied my makeup. The good thing about modelling was that it had taught me how to do my own hair and makeup like a pro. I’d learnt all the tricks of the trade and it was a great asset.

I finished with some lip-gloss in a neutral shade and moved into the dressing room. I studied the rails of clothes. I wanted to look smart and stylish, but not as though I’d made too much of an effort.

I was going to Victoria’s for a coffee morning. She was an incredible hostess – even a coffee morning turned into an event. I pulled on my new black dVb jeans. I loved them because they were low rise and made my bum look tiny. I put on really high black Gucci boots and, after trying on ten different tops, I decided to wear my black Alexander McQueen draped cashmere-blend jumper. I finished off the outfit with a Zac Posen chain-trimmed jacquard jacket. I inspected myself in the mirror. Perfect – cool and stylish with a modern twist. The jeans made my legs look really skinny. I was thrilled. I put on my new Cartier watch, my diamond stud earrings and my Tiffany necklace with the diamond S that Jack had given me the Christmas before last.

When I got downstairs, Mimi was ironing Jack’s shirts.

‘Morning! How are you?’ I asked.

‘Good, thanks, and you?’

‘Fine, thanks. Listen, Mimi, when you’re doing the grocery shopping today could you pick up some fat-free yoghurts and skimmed milk for me? Thanks.’

‘You need drink normal milk. You too skinny.’

‘Mimi, I’ve told you before, you can never be too rich or too thin!’

‘You skin and bone now.’

‘I know and I love it!’ I smiled at her as she tut-tutted. ‘Can you pick Jessica up from Montessori today and give her lunch? There is wholemeal pitta bread and celery, red pepper and carrot sticks in the fridge. She can have them with organic hummus and a probiotic yoghurt with raisins, apricots and prunes for dessert.’

‘Can she have treat today?’ Mimi was always trying to get me to give Jessica sugary things. She thought kids should be allowed chocolate biscuits and sweets. But I wanted Jess to have a really healthy diet, so her skin would glow, her teeth would be white and she’d be naturally slim. She was allowed to have sweets at parties, but only a few. I know Mimi thought I was a total Nazi about it, but I only wanted the best for my daughter and I was determined for her to look as gorgeous as she possibly could.

‘She can have a small bowl of unsalted microwave popcorn after her lunch,’ I said, as I left for my coffee morning.

On my way to Victoria’s, Mum called. ‘Are you alone?’

‘Yes, I’m in the car.’

‘You have to talk to that brother of yours.’

‘Has he not come down from the tree yet?’

‘No, he has not. I’m mortified. It’s been three weeks now and I’m at my wit’s end. Your father won’t discuss it. He said it’s bad for his blood pressure. Just thinking about it makes him turn a dangerous shade of red.’

‘Don’t get yourselves too worked up. It’s just a phase. He’ll get bored. Remember when he decided he wanted to be a photographer and went around taking black-and-white photos of flowers and half-open doors and unlaced shoes? It only lasted a month. This’ll be the same. Just let him get it out of his system. Besides, Gavin is too fond of his creature comforts to stay up there much longer. I’ll call him later and talk to him. I’m on my way to Victoria’s for coffee.’ I wanted to get Mum off the subject of Gavin. We’d discussed him at length yesterday and the day before.

‘That’ll be nice. Doesn’t Victoria live in that enormous house overlooking the sea on Countess Road?’

‘Yes. The views are incredible. Her husband, Gerry, just sold one of his many companies for thirty million. Can you believe it? I’d say Victoria’s got loads of incredible new clothes. She always looks amazing.’

‘So do you.’

I smiled. ‘Thanks, Mum, but she’s in a different league. She has her own personal hairdresser, who also does her makeup and comes to her house at least three times a week.’

‘Seems a bit over the top.’

‘I suppose so.’ It did sound excessive, but she looked fantastic. I’d never seen her with a hair out of place. She had a stylist who flew to London, Paris and New York with her every season to see the new collections, so she always had the latest fashions. She was five foot five and a size six. Everything looked incredible on her.

Mum added, ‘You don’t need that kind of help because you do your own hair and makeup like a professional and you’re always immaculate. What are you wearing to this?’

I described my outfit.

‘It sounds gorgeous. You’ll be the most stunning by far. I wish Julie would take a leaf out of your book. She was such a pretty child, with her lovely brown curly hair and those big brown eyes, but she makes no effort any more. She does herself no favours the way she goes about in those baggy, shapeless clothes with no makeup on.’

‘She’s swamped with the kids, Mum.’

‘I had four children myself, remember, and you can’t let yourself go. If you don’t look after yourself you start to lose your self-esteem and get depressed. I saw it happen to lots of my friends. You have to drag yourself out of bed and go for walks and put your lipstick on. It’s not easy – there were many days when I just wanted to stay in my pyjamas, but I didn’t. I forced myself up and out. Life with small children is not easy, but you have to be strong and keep your pecker up. I’ll have to have a word with her.’

‘Be careful, Mum, she’s pretty defensive about it. Maybe you should wait until the triplets go to national school next September and she has more breathing space.’

‘There’s no time like the present. She’s only defensive because she knows she needs to take care of herself.’

‘Try to be subtle.’

‘Aren’t I always?’

Julie was clearly in for one of Mum’s pep talks. I thought about warning her, but decided against it. I didn’t want to get caught in the middle. ‘OK, Mum, I have to go, talk to you later.’

I hung up and waited for Victoria’s electronic gates to open. They swung back, revealing the curving driveway up to the three-storey red-brick house and spectacular sea views. Victoria’s housekeeper opened the door and showed me into the drawing room. I was the first to arrive. A fire was blazing in the huge hearth. Victoria’s best china was out and she had lovely little pastries from Chez Max. My stomach grumbled. I was hungry, but there was no way I was going to eat any of them: there were a million calories in each one. The only person who would eat them was Saskia and that was only because she’d throw them up later. Her bulimia was the worst-kept secret in town.

‘Hello, sweetie.’ Victoria walked in to greet me.

She was wearing a beautiful grey short-sleeved wool-blend Roland Mouret dress and Marc Jacobs grey suede ankle boots – I’d seen them both in
Vogue
. Her skin was golden-brown from her recent sun holiday. It didn’t matter what I wore, she always looked better than me. No matter how much effort I made and how pleased I was when I left the house, I always felt inferior to her when I saw her. She was perfect. ‘You look amazing, Victoria,’ I said.

‘Thanks. This is great for just throwing on in the morning. It’s so easy.’ She pulled at the two-and-a-half-thousand-euro dress casually. ‘And these boots are so comfy.’

I looked down at the six-inch heels. They didn’t look remotely comfortable, but Victoria always wore really high heels to make her look taller and even more like a model.

‘So, how are you? How was Christmas?’ she asked, perched on the edge of her sofa. ‘I haven’t seen anyone. We only got back from Barbados ten days ago and it’s been hectic. Thankfully, the boys are back in boarding school so I can breathe again.’

Victoria was Gerry Ward’s second wife. He had two teenage sons from his first marriage, but they spent most of their time in boarding school, much to her delight. She and Gerry had one son together, Sebastian. He was four and very sweet. He was in the same Montessori as Jess, which was how I’d met Victoria. Jess and Sebastian got on well together and often had play-dates.

‘Oh, my God, show me that watch.’ Victoria’s eyes homed in on my wrist. She grabbed it and held it up. ‘Well, I see Jack had a good year. Was that your Christmas gift?’

‘Yes, he really spoilt me.’ I smiled.

‘Gerry got me this.’ She shoved her hand under my nose. There was an enormous pink diamond on her finger.

‘Wow, it’s beautiful.’

‘Apparently there are only ten in the world.’ She admired her ring. ‘We’re lucky girls to have husbands who spoil us. Behind every rich man is a happy wife.’

‘Amen to that.’

Victoria lowered her voice, even though we were the only people in the room. ‘Did you hear about poor Annabelle?’

‘No! What happened?’ I asked, worried that she was unwell.

‘Frank’s had to take a seventy-per-cent salary cut and he had most of his savings in bank shares, which are now worth nothing. They’ve had to cancel all their holidays. She’s had to trade in her Porsche Cayenne for a 2002 Hyundai. They’ve had to give up their membership to Green Gates golf club and they may have to sell their house.’

‘Poor Annabelle – that’s terrible. But at least Frank still has his job. Hopefully things will improve next year.’

‘Maybe, but they’ll never get their social standing back.’ Victoria stood up to welcome Paula, Saskia and Daniella, who had arrived together. ‘I was just telling Sophie about poor Annabelle.’

‘It’s just awful.’ Daniella shook her head. ‘She has to cut back on everything. We’ll hardly see her any more. She’s not in the golf club or the gym. She won’t be coming skiing with us in February or to Marbella for the summer. She said all charity balls and lunches are out, too.’

‘Why don’t I have a dinner party and invite them?’ I suggested.

‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ Victoria asked. ‘It could be embarrassing for them. All our husbands are doing so well and Frank isn’t. They might feel awkward, especially if we’re talking about skiing and sun holidays and all the things we do that they can’t any more.’

‘Oh, you’re so right, Victoria,’ Saskia said. ‘Annabelle would hate it. She’d feel so left out.’

‘Won’t she feel more left out if we don’t include her?’ I asked.

‘No,’ Victoria said firmly. ‘It’s best to leave her alone for the moment. They don’t need our charity.’

‘It’s not charity, it’s a dinner party.’

Victoria laid her hand on my arm. ‘Sophie, trust me, it’s a bad idea. I’ve known Annabelle for a long time. She doesn’t want us calling and inviting her to things. She needs space so she can figure out how to cope with this disaster. Now, Paula, tell me, how’s your extension coming along? Did you go to that kitchen place I told you about?’

I sat back and let them talk. They had all gone to the same exclusive private school together and had known each other for years. I’d only met the others through Victoria. On Jessica’s first day in Montessori, Victoria had come over and admired my brand-new red Moschino coat that I’d bought in London the week before. She was wearing an incredible Donna Karan sleeveless black shearling jacket.

She was so glamorous that I was flattered when she befriended me and included me in her group. Jack got on well with the husbands and we’d all gone skiing in St Moritz last year. It was Victoria who had persuaded me to take a villa in Marbella last summer. I liked being part of her group. They were stay-at-home mums and liked nice clothes, jewellery and holidays – the things I loved, too.

Sometimes I wondered if we talked about clothes and cars and houses a bit too much, but I enjoyed their company. Besides, I couldn’t talk to Julie about shopping and decorating because she had no money, and Louise always made me feel like an airhead if I wasn’t discussing politics or business. But I honestly found those subjects depressing and boring. I’d much rather talk about the new Miu Miu collection than the Taliban or stocks and shares.

After I left Victoria’s I went to pick up Jack’s suits from the dry-cleaner’s. On my way back to the car I heard someone call my name. My maiden name.

‘Sophie Devlin, I don’t believe it – you look fantastic.’

I turned around and came face to face with Denise Fuller. I’d been in school with her but hadn’t seen her for years. She’d aged a lot, very lined around the forehead and eyes – she could have done with some Botox. ‘Hi, Denise, long time no see. How are you?’

‘Great, thanks. Mad busy but all good.’

‘What are you up to, these days?’ I asked, noticing she wore no wedding ring. In fact, she had on no jewellery at all.

‘I’m a scriptwriter for the BBC. I’m based in London, but I’m over for a month working on a one-off drama for RTÉ television.’

‘That sounds really interesting.’

‘Honestly, Sophie, it’s the best job in the world. I feel so lucky to love what I do. I literally jump out of bed in the morning …’ The more she talked, the more animated her face became and the less old she looked. It was as if she was lit up from the inside when she talked about her job. ‘You get to work with the most amazing people. I’m also just finishing up a screenplay, which I’m hoping to get made into a film.’

‘You were always really good at writing,’ I said. ‘I remember your essays being so much better than anyone else’s.’

She laughed. ‘Thanks. It’s my absolute passion. How about you? What have you been up to?’

‘Oh, well, I’m married and I have a little girl, Jessica, who’s four.’

‘That’s great, congratulations.’

‘Oh, thanks. She’s really sweet. I’m very lucky.’

‘Do you work?’

I shook my head.

‘So you’re at home all the time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it enough?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is being at home full-time enough to fulfil you? You know, does it feed your soul?’

I felt flustered. ‘Well, I don’t know. I’m just really busy looking after Jessica and Jack and the house and all of that.’ I sounded a bit lame.

‘Well, you look great. Obviously your life agrees with you. I’d better fly. I’ve a meeting in ten minutes.’