Pieces of My Heart (41 page)

‘Would you like a band or a DJ? Or both?’ Sally asked.

‘Duh, both, obviously. I want a big orchestra-type band at first for my entrance, and then I want DJ Rock Thejoint.’

Sally jotted down these details.

‘We’d like to have the party at home in the garden, so could you organize for a marquee? Something with real glass windows and doors – not the plastic ones,’ Wendy said. ‘And nice toilets with someone to keep them clean throughout the night.’

‘And a makeup artist and hairdresser to fix us up whenever we need it,’ Annabelle added.

‘Of course, no problem.’ I tried not to smile. This party was going to provide us with a big pay cheque.

‘And I don’t want some crappy little marquee – I want a two-tiered one. I want a stage for me to dance on and stairs to make my entrance down so everyone can see me.’

Sally noted all of this in her book – with a large ‘PITA’ down the side of the page – our code for ‘Pain In The Arse’.

Over the last few weeks, while I was busy with Ali, Sally had sourced the marquee, which was being imported from England, a choreographer, can-can dancers, aerial artists and all the trimmings and supplies we needed to dress the tables and marquee. The invitations had been hand-delivered to each of the hundred and thirty guests by two acrobats on stilts. They were little windmills that opened up to the music of Lady Marmalade and invited the guests to an unforgettable night at the Moulin Rouge. We enclosed a copy of the menu, which we had expanded so that everyone could choose a beef, fish, vegetarian, vegan, or coeliac option and enclose it with their RSVP.

Apparently no one was unable to attend.

We ran into a problem when the DJ refused to play a sixteen-year-old birthday party. He said it was demeaning to his artistry. We begged, pleaded and tried bribing him but he wouldn’t budge. Eventually we got another DJ who was supposed to be almost as good. But Annabelle freaked when we broke the news to her.

‘That’s it, the party’s ruined. I’m cancelling it. It’s over. I’ve told
everyone
that DJ Rock Thejoint is playing. I’m not being humiliated. You said you could get him. You’re crap party planners – I knew I should have gone with Partypeople. They did Zoe’s party and it was amazing.’

‘Annabelle, I can assure you we did everything to get him to come but he won’t budge.’ Sally tried not to lose her temper.

‘The other DJ, Rhapsodie, is supposed to be brilliant. My sixteen-year-old loves him,’ I said. Sarah had said he was cool, and I knew she had a good handle on what was cool and what was not.

‘Are you deaf? I don’t want him. I want DJ Rock Thejoint,’ she screeched. ‘You’ve ruined my life.’ She stormed out as we sat in silence with her mother.

‘There must be something you can do,’ Wendy said. ‘We have to get this DJ. He’s all she’s talked about for months.’

‘Honestly, Wendy, we’ve tried everything,’ I assured her.

‘Let me call Paddy and see if he has any ideas,’ Wendy said, dialling his number and filling him in. Paddy came on the loudspeaker. ‘It’s like this, ladies, if Annabelle wants this guy she gets him or I’m going to have to listen to her moaning for six months. What’s his fee?’

‘Six thousand for three hours,’ Sally informed him.

‘To spin a few records? Jesus, I’ll take it up myself.’ Paddy snorted.

‘He’s considered one of the best in the world,’ Wendy piped up. ‘And Annabelle is distraught.’

‘Fine, double his rate. Tell him we’ll pick him up in my private jet from wherever he is and drop him back in the morning. Set him up in the presidential suite at the Four Seasons and throw in a couple of bottles of Cristal – isn’t that what all these guys drink? If he still says no, triple his fee.’

Amazingly, DJ Rock Thejoint decided that twelve thousand euros for three hours’ work wasn’t so demeaning after all.

With only a few days to go the choreographer had called to say that Annabelle, a.k.a. Beyoncé, had two left feet and was impossible to teach. Sally voted that I go down and try to help sort it out. ‘You’ve got teenagers, you know how to handle them. I’ll stay here and finalize the food with Helen.’

I had to pick Sarah up from school on the way to the dance studio. ‘I just have to pop in here to sort out a problem with work. Do you want to stay in the car or come in?’ I asked her.

‘What’s the problem?’

‘Annabelle Collins is trying to learn a dance routine for her grand entrance and apparently it’s not going very well.’

‘Oh, God, what a loser. Everyone who knows her says she’s a total pain. She loves herself and thinks just because her dad is loaded that makes her cool. Bobby sees her at Christmas parties and stuff because their dads are friendly. Even he said she’s a pain and he never gives out about people. He lost the invitation, so he told me to tell you he’s not going. He can’t stand her.’

‘Well, he’s the only person who isn’t. I agree, she does seem to be very spoilt but remember that she’s a client, so no comments – even under your breath. OK?’

‘As if.’

Sarah and I arrived in to see Annabelle thumping around the place, out of time with everyone else.

‘She’s the worst case I’ve seen,’ Janice, the choreographer, whispered. ‘I’ve simplified the dance to six moves but she still can’t get it. Along with being a spoilt brat, she’s thick too.’

Sarah grinned. ‘I can’t wait to tell Bobby about this.’

‘Go over there, sit down and don’t open your mouth,’ I warned her.

Wendy Collins was sitting in the corner of the studio, encouraging Annabelle.

‘You nearly had it there. That was much better,’ she lied to her daughter.

The can-can dancers went one way and Annabelle went the other. She stomped over to Janice. ‘I’m sick of this stupid dance. You’re making it too hard for me. Your steps are really difficult, I can’t remember them all. Why can’t you make it easy?’

‘There are six simple steps to remember and then repeat. It doesn’t get any easier than this. You just need to stop staring at yourself in the mirror and concentrate,’ Janice snapped.

‘That’s it. You’re fired. How dare you speak to me like that? Mum! I want a new dance teacher.’

‘Hold on a minute,’ I said firmly. ‘Janice is the top choreographer in the country. You’re lucky to have her. Now, why don’t you take a break and cool down?’

Annabelle went over to her mother and took out a bottle of Coke. Looking up, she saw Sarah. ‘What are you doing here?’

I walked over. ‘This is my daughter Sarah, Sarah, this is Annabelle.’

‘Hi, how are you?’ Sarah was at her most polite.

‘That’s a Hodder College uniform, right?’ Annabelle asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you know Bobby Masterson-Brown?’

‘I do, actually.’

Annabelle flicked her hair. ‘I know him really well. Our dads are, like, best friends. He’s always over in the house.’

‘Really? Wow. He’s kind of cute.’ Sarah reeled her in.

‘Kind of? He’s totally gorgeous. Apparently he’s going out with this girl in his class who’s not even that good-looking but thinks she’s a goddess.’

‘I actually know her and she’s really hot. Loads of guys in school fancy her.’ Sarah flicked her hair and eyeballed Annabelle, who remained oblivious.

‘Well, my friend Amber saw them together and said she wasn’t good-looking and that she was all over Bobby like a rash and he was, like, trying to get away from her.’

‘Where was this?’

‘After one of his rugby matches.’

‘OK – we need to get back to practice now,’ I said, knowing Sarah was about to reach boiling point.

Ignoring me completely, Sarah said, ‘I see them together every day and he is all over her. He’s totally into her.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Annabelle took a sip of her Coke. ‘Anyway, nothing will come of it. My dad and Bobby’s dad always said we’d end up marrying each other because then the two fortunes would be combined and we’d be, like, the richest people in the country.’

‘Do you honestly think he fancies you?’

Annabelle smiled. ‘Well, yeah, but he’s too shy to do anything about it. I’m going to have to make the first move. I’ve invited him to my party so you never know, it could be, like, fate.’

‘Oh, really? Is he actually going to your party?’

‘Hello! Everyone’s coming. No one would miss it. It’s going to be incredible. I have loads of people in school following me around begging me to invite them.’

‘I heard he’s not going.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Bobby did. He said he’d –’

‘OK!’ I stood between them and glared at Sarah. ‘We really need to get back to the dance.’

‘Hold on – are you telling me Bobby told you he’s not coming to my party?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And, f.y.i., he hates blondes.’

‘Liar.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You’re obviously jealous because you fancy him and you want to come to my party like everyone else in this country.’

Sarah stepped closer. ‘I’d rather stick a hot needle in my eye than –’

‘That’s enough.’ I grabbed Sarah and frog-marched her to the opposite side of the room, where Janice was talking to the dancers.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I hissed. ‘This is my job you’re messing with.’

‘She’s a bitch. Did you hear what she said?’

‘Yes, she is and I did, but this party is going to provide a huge pay cheque for Sally and me, so just be quiet and say nothing.’

‘Fine.’ Sarah sat down, took out her phone and started texting.

I turned to Janice. ‘What can we do here? Can you reduce Annabelle’s moves to four or even three and let the other dancers do the complicated stuff around her?’

‘It’ll look ridiculous. She can’t even lift her leg beyond knee height – the other girls’ legs lift right up to their shoulders.’

‘And that’s in a tracksuit – imagine how bad she’s going to be in a corset and skin-tight hot pants.’

Janice started to laugh.

‘Is there any way the dancers could all link arms and kind of pull her along with them?’

‘They could, but it’ll look awful and what do we do when they kick and do the splits?’

‘Well, could she do some kind of twirl and stay standing?’

‘Yes, she could, but I don’t want my name on this. I don’t want people knowing I taught this girl.’

‘I understand where you’re coming from, but Annabelle is only going to do a short entrance dance for thirty seconds, then the can-can girls will do a proper ten-minute routine and you can really show your talent with that.’

‘OK – but if you’re ever looking for a choreographer for a sixteenth birthday again, count me out. It’s taking all my powers of restraint not to slap her.’

‘I know how you feel,’ Sarah piped up.

‘Janice, if you focus on the footwork I’ll deal with Annabelle.’

I went over and told Annabelle the plan. She pouted. ‘I don’t want the dancers showing me up. I’m the star here, not them.’

‘The spotlight will be on you all the time and they’ll be in the background,’ I assured her.

Janice proceeded to teach Annabelle three simple moves that she just about managed, but she was still out of synch with the music.

‘It’s definitely going to be an unforgettable entrance.’ Sarah giggled.

‘It’s like teaching an elephant ballet,’ Janice whispered, as we tried not to laugh.

‘If she wants to humiliate herself, there’s nothing we can do,’ I said. ‘I reckon she’ll split the hot pants doing the high kick, though. I’ll need to warn Madame Sophie.’

Half an hour later, Annabelle was still dancing completely out of time but we had to leave the studio because we had an appointment with Madame Sophie for a final fitting of her outfit. I decided to drop Sarah home on the way. It was safer.

‘Seriously, Mum, how can you work with that bitch?’

‘Sometimes you have to work with difficult people. It’s the same in all jobs. Your dad has to deal with drunks in the pub being abusive and I have to deal with difficult children. Most kids are nice, but you do get the odd one like Annabelle who’s not so easy.’

‘Did you hear her saying that she and Bobby were going to get married? I mean, where does she get off? She’s, like, totally delusional. I texted him straight away and look what he sent back.’ Sarah shoved her phone in front of me.

‘Can you read that in English?’

‘ “Babe, Annabelle is a freak. I wouldn’t touch her never mind marry her. I love you. I wouldn’t go to the party if you paid me. You’re right, she is fat and ugly and you’re hot.” ’

‘Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up.’

‘I wasn’t exactly worried. She’s hardly competition. I don’t understand how she can think she’s hot when she looks like that. Do these people not have mirrors?’ Sarah examined herself admiringly in the car mirror. ‘You either have it or you don’t.’

After dropping Sarah home I drove to meet Annabelle and Wendy at the fitting. I hadn’t seen the outfit before, but Sally had been to the two previous fittings. She had warned me that Annabelle was a sight to behold.

Madame Sophie greeted me like an old friend. ‘Ava,
ma belle
, ’ow are you?’

‘Good, thanks.’

‘Did your ’usband enjoy ze lingerie?’ she whispered.

‘Very much, thanks. It was a big help.’

‘It ’elps wiz ze sex, no?’

‘Yes, it did. Now, let’s see Annabelle, shall we?’ I changed the subject, not wanting to get the third degree from Sophie about my sex life, which had been neglected again lately, with all the drama over Ali.

‘We ’ave a problem,’ Sophie told me. ‘Annabelle ees too fat for ze ’ot pants. But she insists to wear zem. I tell Sally eet ees not a good idea, but she says zere ees nozzing she can do. Ze girl will look ridiculous.’

‘I know, but Sally’s right – this girl gets whatever this girl wants.’

‘You Irish are much too nice to your childrens. In France we say, “
Non
,” and zat ees zat. In Hireland, ze childrens dictate to ze parents. Zis ees very bad. Annabelle needs some slaps to ze behind.’

‘Yes, she does, but disciplining her is not our problem. All we need to do is keep her happy until Saturday.’

‘OK, I will say nozzing. But eef eet was my daughter –’

‘Excellent, thanks.’ I cut her off. I didn’t have the time or patience to listen to Sophie’s views on child-rearing. I just wanted to get Annabelle’s outfit sorted before I lost my temper and slapped the bolshy teenager myself.