Pieces of My Heart (22 page)

‘Fair enough, some single women are sluts, but take me, for example. Just because I’m looking to meet someone doesn’t mean I want to sleep with every man I talk to. I like male company, and sometimes when you’re single it’s nice to go out and have fun with men. There’s no ulterior motive, you just want to have a laugh. When you’re single, you’re with women all the time and it’s nice to talk to guys too.’

‘I can see that. I hate those parties where all the women end up at one end and the guys at the other. I always think they look like they’re having more fun.’

‘That’s because most of the time they are. I’ve been stuck talking to married mothers about washing-machines, schools for kids and swimming lessons … It’s so boring! You can be sure the guys are talking about fun things like sport, sex and cars.’

‘I’d happily skip the car chat. But I have to say it really bugs me when single women come on to married men. It’s disloyal to your own sex.’

‘Well, I think both married women and single women can be equally horrible to each other.’

‘Maybe we should write a book showing both points of view,’ I said. ‘It’d probably be a bestseller. We could call it
She-said, She-said
.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Sally joked, holding up her coffee cup.

Later that day, when I got home, Charlie and Nadia were standing in the hall. Charlie had his car keys in his hand and Nadia was carrying a suitcase. Finally, she was going back to Poland. Fantastic.

‘So you’re off?’ I said, proffering a hand.

‘Yes. I am needing to do this before it too late.’

‘Good idea. Well, good luck with it all.’

‘Thanks you, Afa. I thinking you no approfe.’

‘You’re a bit young, that’s all.’

‘I thirty-eight. No so young.’

‘You look a lot younger.’

‘That because I am dancing efery night.’

‘It does seem to keep you trim. Anyway, I hope everything turns out well for you.’

‘I not afraid. I know this make my life better.’

‘You’re absolutely right. Best decision you’ve ever made.’

Nadia and Charlie looked at me quizzically.

‘You’re very positive all of a sudden. What’s got into you?’ Charlie wondered.

‘Nothing. I just think that Nadia is doing the right thing. You seem to be taking it well.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘She desperately wants to do it, so I’m trying to be supportive. As she said herself, it’s her life. Who am I to stop her?’

‘You’re dead right. Let her go. It’s best for everyone.’

‘Come on, Charlie, I don’t want to be late,’ Nadia said.

‘Goodbye, then,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘It’s been nice knowing you. I hope you have a wonderful life.’

They both seemed taken aback. ‘Why are you behaving so strangely?’ Charlie asked.

‘I’m just being nice. What’s the big deal?’

‘You’re behaving as if you’ll never see Nadia again.’

‘Well, I probably won’t.’

‘Jesus, Ava, that’s a terrible thing to say.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m just being honest.’

‘You think she won’t make it?’

‘On the contrary, I think she’ll do just fine.’

‘Well, then, why did you say you wouldn’t see her again?’

‘Because I’m not planning any trips to Poland in the near future.’

‘Poland?’ Charlie exclaimed.

Nadia started to screech laughing. ‘I understanding now. You think I leafing Eyerland. You see my bag and you think Nadia going back to Poland. Poor Afa, she thinks I not coming back.’

As Charlie realized the misunderstanding, he began to laugh too.

‘What’s so hilarious?’ I demanded. ‘Where are you going, if not back home?’

‘I going for my boobie job,’ Nadia announced.

My heart sank. So she wasn’t leaving. I’d still have to face her every day until Charlie’s new apartment was ready. I sighed. I could really do without Nadia parading her new boobs around my house.

‘I decided to let her have her way and support her with the surgery,’ Charlie explained. ‘When I saw how unhappy Alison was with her mad dieting, trying to be thinner, I realized it was important for women to be happy with their bodies.’

‘Come on, Charlie, I not being late.’ Nadia tugged at my father’s arm. Then turning to me she said, ‘When I coming back, I looking like Pamela Anderson.’

‘Oh, I’ve no doubt you will,’ I muttered, under my breath.

‘I’ll be back later,’ Charlie said, as Nadia walked out the door. Then, leaning over, he whispered in my ear, ‘And I’d appreciate it if you were a bit more enthusiastic about the woman I love not emigrating back to Poland. What happened to the Irish being a welcoming nation?’

‘May I remind you once again that it’s my house she’s been staying in, my food she’s been eating and my hospitality she’s been enjoying,’ I hissed.

‘It’d be nice if you could smile at her from time to time. She’s a very sensitive soul. The Polish people have suffered a lot throughout the ages.’

‘So I’m supposed to make up for centuries of injustice?’

‘They had a very hard time with the Russians and the Germans.’

‘I’m not Russian or German so why do I have to feel guilty about it? Or make up for it? Is she being nice to me because of the Famine?’

‘Ireland remained neutral during the war and I think we have to make up for that.’

‘I was born in 1966!’

‘Charlie, mofe you arse,’ Nadia roared from the car.

‘I see what you mean about her sensitivity.’

‘Everyone has their moments.’ Charlie sprinted out of the door.

24

I took Sarah and Ali shopping to get some new clothes for the holidays. Sally said she’d come and help. Everything Ali tried on was too big for her.

‘She’s thrilled they’re all too big. Did you see her smile? She hasn’t smiled in months. She’s actually getting a kick out of being so thin,’ I whispered.

‘That’s the disease. The thinner you are the happier you are,’ Sally said.

‘I thought she was getting better. The sooner she sees the psychologist the better. Hopefully she can make her see how awful she looks.’ I began to get upset.

‘It’ll be OK, Ava – you said she’s eating more than before, which is great. It’s slow but sure progress.’

‘I know, but I think she looks worse. Then again, maybe that’s because I’m now obsessed with her weight too.’

‘Too big,’ Ali called, from behind her dressing-room curtain.

‘Let’s see if these fit.’ Sally went to hand Ali a bikini she’d found in the children’s section – for a twelve-year-old. ‘Here you go, Ali,’ she said, handing it in. Ali pulled the curtain back a tiny bit and Sally caught a glimpse of her. When she turned back to me, her face was pale and she had tears in her eyes.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘It’s a million times worse when you see her with no clothes on.’

‘Thank God you caught it before it got worse.’

‘Check me out!’ Sarah said, parading around in silver-sequined togs with a big hole cut out in the middle of the stomach.

‘It’s a bit Las Vegas for a family holiday,’ I said.

‘Come on, Sally, how cool is this?’

Sally laughed. ‘Well, it certainly makes an impression.’

‘Exactly. Who wants to blend into the background?’

‘Clearly not you.’ I smiled at her.

‘Come on, Mum, all the other togs are so boring and conservative. I’m sixteen, not forty!’

‘Don’t say forty as if it’s ancient,’ Sally shook a finger at her. ‘We forty-somethings are still hot.’

‘Have you seen Mum’s togs lately?’

‘They do need updating,’ I admitted.

‘I’ll be back in a jiffy.’ Sally dashed off to find me a new improved swimsuit.

Ali came out of the dressing room in jeans and a sweatshirt, holding the twelve-year-old’s bikini. ‘It fits,’ she said, looking pleased.

‘Hey, Ali, whaddya think of my togs? Cool?’

‘Wow, yeah, you look great. Really skinny.’

‘Can I get it, Mum?’ Sarah pleaded.

‘Sure.’ I was determined not to mess up Sarah’s body image. If she felt good in that swimsuit, she could bloody well have it.

Sally came back with a red halter-neck model, simple, but sexy. I tried it on, and it looked good. I checked the price tag. Yikes! Sally really did have expensive taste.

I poked my head around the curtain. ‘It’s a bit pricy.’

‘Show me it on you.’ She looked into the dressing room. ‘Ava, it’s gorgeous and so flattering. You know Nadia’s going to be parading about in a teeny-tiny bikini and you want to look your best. You’re buying it. I bought a ridiculously expensive bikini yesterday because I want to look good beside Nadia, too.’

‘Shouldn’t we be comfortable in our bodies at this stage in our lives and not care what anyone else looks like?’ I asked.

‘Are you?’

‘I’m buying the swimsuit.’

‘Listen, are you absolutely sure you want me to tag along on your holiday?’ Sally asked.

‘For the zillionth time, yes. You’ll be doing me a huge favour by coming out for a few days. It’s hardly an intimate family holiday with Charlie and Nadia. And Paul’s still in a grump because he doesn’t want to be away from the pub on New Year’s Eve, so it will be great to have you.’

‘I’ll book my flight for the thirtieth. You’ll be well settled in by then and, hopefully, will have found a nice bar for us to get drunk in.’

When we got home I told Ali I wanted to weigh her. She started crying and begging me not to, but I insisted. Then she ran up to her bedroom and locked the door. I banged on the door and demanded that she come into the bathroom to be weighed. She reluctantly came out.

She stood on the scales. ‘Seven stone. It’s only two pounds but at least we’re going the right way. Well done.’ I smiled at her.

She actually seemed relieved. ‘You see, Mum? I told you it wasn’t a big deal.’

Two pounds. At this rate it would take months to get her weight back up. Please, God, may the holiday work.

We arrived in Tenerife after eight hours’ travelling – I hadn’t been able to book a direct flight so we had to change planes in Madrid and then there had been a two-hour delay. It was five o’clock in the afternoon and everyone was tired and grumpy. But once we stepped out into the warm sun, I knew I’d made the right decision. It was wonderful to feel the sun on my skin and gaze at a cloudless blue sky.

We piled into a taxi and I gave the driver the name of the hotel.

‘Is it nice?’ Sarah asked him.

‘Yes, hotel is
muy bien
.’

‘What does that mean?’ Charlie wondered.

‘It means it’s very nice,’ Ali explained.

‘Why didn’t you ask the driver in Spanish, Sarah? You’ve been studying it for three years. Surely you know how to ask if something is nice,’ Paul said.

‘For God’s sake, Dad, we’ve just landed after travelling for, like, ten years. I don’t feel up to practising my languages right now.’

‘It is nice to try to speak other language. When peoples come to Poland we are happy when they are trying to speak Polish.’

Sarah leant over and said, ‘
Gracias, señor
,’ loudly to the driver.

‘So where are we going?’ Charlie asked.

‘The hotel is in a place called Los Cristianos. It’s only fifteen kilometres from the airport. I booked it in a bit of a rush, but it looks nice. It’s a small hotel with views of the harbour and beach.’

‘Apparently Los Cristianos is mental. Milly said her sister came here last year with three friends and had a wild time. They never went to bed before nine a.m. The nightlife is supposed to be insane.’

Paul looked at me. ‘Is she winding me up?’

‘Well, no, actually. I made a last-minute booking so I had to Google the area afterwards. and it did mention a very lively nightlife.’

‘Fantastic.’ Charlie rubbed his hands together.

We drove past a pub called the Full Monty with a banner announcing Neil Down was performing that night. ‘Maybe we should go there for dinner.’ Paul grinned at me.

‘I did the best I could under severe time pressure.’

‘It’s nice to be away,’ Ali said.

‘What’s our curfew here?’ asked Sarah. ‘The Spanish don’t go out till, like, midnight, so it should be four a.m.’

‘In your dreams.’ Paul laughed.

‘When in Rome, Dad.’

‘We’re not in Rome.’

‘Here we are.’ Our driver pulled up to a small hotel, overlooking the beach. It was painted white and had red shutters and window-boxes overflowing with little purple and yellow flowers.

Everyone murmured their approval. ‘It looks nice, but where’s the pool?’ Sarah wanted to know.

‘Let’s check in and find out.’ I walked through the red door into a tiled reception area where we were greeted by Miguel, the manager. The hotel had thirty rooms and we were all on the third floor. The pool was on the roof. We arranged to meet up there in twenty minutes.

I walked out onto the balcony of my room and breathed in the fresh sea air. All I needed now was a sangria and some flamenco music. But instead I heard ‘thump thump …’

I leant over the balcony to see where the music was coming from. To the left of the hotel, fifty yards from our balcony, there was a bar called Cock and Bull.

Paul came out. ‘Tell me that’s not Cher?’

‘I’m afraid so. Look.’ I pointed to the bar.

‘Oh, shit – we’re going to be listening to Eurotrash music all week.’

As if on cue, Rod Stewart’s ‘Do You Think I’m Sexy’ blared out of the speakers.

‘Stop – it’s a form of torture.’ Paul covered his ears.

‘Don’t worry. I brought ear plugs and there’s always alcohol to numb the pain.’

‘I like the sound of that. Come on – let’s go for a swim and a beer.’

I put on my new red togs, which Paul whistled at – he hadn’t whistled at me in a long time.

While he went for a swim, I lay on a sun-lounger and basked in the heat. I was feeling really good about myself until I saw Nadia strutting towards me in a teeny-tiny sparkly thong bikini. Her stomach was like a washboard. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did.

‘Wow, look at Nadia. She looks hot,’ Sarah said, lying down beside me. ‘I must say, her boobs look really good. You can hardly see the scars. Maybe you should get yours done, Mum.’

‘They look cheap. Parading around in a piece of string at thirty-eight is ridiculous.’