In My Sister's Shoes (32 page)

‘I have,’ he said, grinning.

‘Good for you.’

‘If I don’t get signed before my birthday when the old man pulls the plug on my finances, me ’n’ Gonzo are going to crash with you in London and try the scene over there. I was thinking your agent could maybe sort us out with some auditions.’

The old me would have said, ‘Hell will freeze over first.’

The new me said, ‘Over my dead body.’

37

Although Fiona hated having to go to the hospital everyday for the radiation, which tired her, the queasiness and mouth ulcers were gone and she could see that the end was near. She was in much better form and more able for the boys. As a result I had more time on my hands, which was not necessarily a good thing: I had time to brood about Sam. I was staying in Dublin until Fiona was finished with the radiation and then I was going back to London. She’d be having her remission tests six weeks after that and I was planning to fly home when she got the results. We were all holding our breath and watching the calendar as time dragged on towards that date.

On one of my afternoons off from minding the boys I had decided to contact Sam. I was desperate to talk to him and tryto sort things out. I wanted to show him what a mistake we were making by not giving it a go.

I sent him a text:
Can we talk?

Sam:
Unless uv changed ur mind about London there is nothing 2 say
.

Me:
U r a stubborn git
.

Sam:
Pot – kettle – black
.

I was bashing my head off a brick wall so I didn’t contact him again. In the meantime I decided to get in touch with a few more people in Irish television to prove to Sam there was nothing for me in Dublin. Maybe if he saw that I’d tried every angle possible, he’d consider commuting.

I got my agent to track down a few names and put out a few feelers in Dublin for me. I was still waiting to hear back. She said she was on the case but she was definitely keener to find me a good job in London where her commission would be higher. I had called Peter Kildare from TV
₃
again, just to say I was still alive and available for work, and he had given me the names of two other Irish producers to contact. They had both told me the same thing: there were no jobs going. Once people had a presenting job in Ireland, they stayed in it for ten years. Movement and job-hopping were not common.

With a few days to go before Fiona’s treatment ended, my agent rang. She only ever rang if it was good news. ‘Kate, are you sitting down?’ she asked.

‘Yes – go on, what is it?’ I said, holding my breath…

‘Your agent
extraordinaire
has landed you a presenting job on Sky One.’ She paused for maximum effect.

‘What show?’ I urged, myheart pounding. Sky One was great. It was a big step up from the Lifechange channel.

‘
Reality Stag Party
,’ she announced breathlessly.

‘Excuse me?’

‘It’s going to be fantastic and so much fun for you. You travel to different places each week with different stag parties and talk to the groom about his relationship and talk to his friends about him and if they think his wife-to-be is Mrs Right. It’ll be great! The first stag is fourteen lads from Newcastle going to Benidorm for a week, so you’ll even get a tan while you’re working – and, you never know, you might find yourself a man while you’re at it.’

‘You got me a show following a bunch of men around Benidorm, watching them eat eggs and chips in the local pub and getting plastered watching football, then going to a nightclub with them while they grope every girl in sight? Jesus, Jackie, are you insane?’

‘Joking!’ She cackled. ‘I’ve got you series two of
Eating-disorder Camp
.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes!’

This was a big deal. The girl who had presented the first series was now presenting the hugely popular
So You Think You Can Sing
. It was a big step up for me and I knew the competition would have been fierce.

‘How did you manage to get it for me?’

‘I told the producer you’d rushed home to nurse your sick sister and look after her kids, and he thought you’d be perfect for the job because you’re obviously good with sick people. So the stick-insects will be able to talk to you about their problems. By the way, I told him your sister had teenage-girl twins and one was refusing to eat since her mother got sick. It sealed the deal.’

‘You cunning thing, I love it. God, this is brilliant. When do I start?’

‘Filming kicks off in a month, but I need you over here next week to talk to the producer and do some schmoozing. How’s your hair?’

‘Short, but it looks OK.’

‘Let me be the judge of that. Bring a wig with you. Got to fly.’

‘Thanks, Jackie, I really appreciate it,’ I said, hanging up and hugging myself.

This was huge. I was on the road to serious stardom now. All my hard work had paid off. This was my big break and it felt fantastic. I was over the moon. I had to tell someone, so I jumped in the car and called over to Tara.

After I’d rung the doorbell for five minutes she finally appeared in her pyjamas. She looked shattered.

‘Hi,’ I said, bounding in. ‘You’ll never guess what!’

‘Can you hang on a sec,’ she said, rushing into the house to pick up a screaming baby.

I followed her and watched her settle Kerrie on her breast. The baby stopped crying instantly.

‘Impressive,’ I said.

‘She’s a very hungry baby,’ said Tara, wearily. ‘It’s nonstop and I’m wrecked. Look at me! It’s eleven o’clock and I’m still not dressed. She was up four times last night and it’s nearly an hour every feed by the time you burp her –’

I decided to interrupt. I didn’t want to hear about the feeds again – she’d talked of nothing else since the baby was born. While I realized it was pretty much the only thing she did all day, it was pretty boring to hear about every feed, how long it took, how many burps and how long the child slept – or, rather, didn’t sleep – in between. I wanted to tell her my news.

‘My agent just called – I’ve got a great job!’ I blurted out, but Tara didn’t hear me: she was busy manoeuvring the baby.

‘It’s easier to feed her if she’s comfy,’ she said, putting a cushion under Kerrie’s bum. ‘Now, what were you saying?’ she asked.

‘I’ve got a new job.’

‘Great. Doing what?’

‘You’re looking at the new presenter of
Eating-disorder Camp
,’ I announced.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘It’s one of the top reality TV shows. And Terry Half penny, who presented the last series, is now presenting
So You Think You Can Sing
.’

‘I like that show,’ said Tara, absent-mindedly. ‘But I never get to watch TV, these days. Ouch, Kerrie, easy there, pet,’ said the earth-mother, as she adjusted her breast again.

‘So, I’m really excited about it and I start filming next month. God, it’ll be great to have mylife back.’

‘Mmm, sounds amazing. Could you pass me that muslin square? Thanks. She’s not eating so I need to burp her first.’

‘OK. Well, you seem kind of busy here so I’ll talk to you later,’ I said, trying not to snap. I had been so excited to share my good news with my best friend but she couldn’t concentrate for more than five seconds on anything that wasn’t baby-related.

‘Don’t go – I’m sorry, Kate. I know I’m distracted. Look, let me stick Kerrie in the swing chair and hope fully she’ll nod off. She doesn’t seem hungry.’

After fifteen minutes of swinging, rocking, music and soothers, Kerrie fell asleep.

‘Come on,’ whispered Tara. ‘Let’s go into the kitchen so we don’t disturb her. Now, tell me everything.’

Once we were in the kitchen, Tara gave me her almost undivided attention. She leapt up every five minutes to check on Kerrie, but in between she managed to focus on the conversation.

‘So this show is a big deal and may lead to prime-time TV?’

‘Exactly.’

‘What’s the show about?’

‘Kids with eating disorders.’

‘Yes, I got that part, but what happens? Do you watch people throwing up all day?’

‘You do see the odd puke, but it’s basically a group of teenage girls – although they usually throw in a token boy or two – who are food-averse and they send them to this camp with nutritionists and psychiatrists and fitness trainers to tryto help them.’

‘So the winner is the one who puts on the most weight?’

‘Yes.’

‘How much did the last winner put on?’

‘Well, she got a bit carried away and put on four stone, so she’s now going to be starring in
Get Fit Camp
. The kids on the show can’t be badly an orexic or bulimic because they’d be in hospital on drips if they were. This is for kids in the early stages of eating disorders. It got really good viewing figures last time, almost as many as
Celebrity Dancing on Roller Skates
.’

‘No wonder you’re excited. So you’ll be going back to London soon?’

I nodded. ‘Fiona finishes her treatment next week, then she and Mark are having an end-of-treatment plus Derek’s twenty-seventh birthday dinner on the Saturday night. I’ll head back on Sunday or Monday.’

‘I don’t mean to be a kill-joy, but what if she’s not in remission?’ Tara asked.

‘She will be,’ I said.

‘But what if she isn’t?’

‘She has to be, Tara. I can’t even contemplate it, if she isn’t. Life can’t be that cruel and, selfishly, I don’t think I can do another eight months as a surrogate mother. I want my life back.’

‘Of course you do. It’s not selfish, it’s normal. I’m sure she’s really grateful for all your help. You were there when she needed you, and that’s what matters.’

Yes, but what if she needed me again? Could I do it? I really didn’t know that I could. I was so looking forward to having my own place, job and income again. I felt lost and useless without it. I blocked the thought out. It wouldn’t

happen. She’d be fine.

‘Any word from Sam?’ Tara asked.

‘Not since the disastrous texts.’

‘Does he know about the new job?’

‘There’s no point in telling him. He doesn’t care about my career – he thinks I’m a selfish cow.’

‘Are you sure you want to give him up?’

‘That’s just it. I don’t have to give him up. If he’d meet me half-way it would all be fine. What’s the big deal about commuting?’

‘It’s just putting off the inevitable decision that one of you will have to move,’ Tara said gently.

‘Only if the relationship works out,’ I reminded her.

‘Do you honestly think it wouldn’t?’

‘Not if we really gave it a go.’

‘Can you do that while you’re living in two different countries with separate lives?’

‘Lots of people do.’

‘Like who?’

‘Posh and Becks. When he first went to play in Spain she was still in England.’

‘Until she moved over to save her marriage,’ Tara reminded me.

‘I can’t let this opportunity go. It’s a really big deal. I’ve been working towards it for years.’

‘Look, Kate, it’s your decision and it sounds like a great job, but you should really think about the bigger picture.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘What do you want to be doing in five or ten years’ time? Do you want to have a successful career and no private life, or a relationship with someone you love, kids, a house and to be near your family and loved ones?’

‘I want it all. I want the guy and the job and maybe the kids.’

‘Life is about compromise,’ Tara said.

‘Why does it have to be
my
compromise? Why can’t he get a job in England?’

‘He loves his job. His mum and sister live here. His whole life is about Irish sport. Why does he have to give it up to move over there when the only thing keeping you both in London would be your job?’

‘I’ve looked into getting a job here but there are none going.’

‘Something’s bound to come up.’

‘When? And in the meantime what am I supposed to do?’

‘If you go back to London you’ll lose yourself again, and it’s been so nice having you around.’

‘I’ve enjoyed being back, but I’ve had enough.’

‘He’s a really great guy, Kate. They don’t come along very often. Think very seriously about it before you jump on the plane.’

Kerrie started to bawl again so I took my leave, and spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to have my career
and
Sam.

38

Over breakfast the next day, Dad reminded Derek that he had only a few days to get a record deal or the game was up. ‘Your twenty-seventh birthday will be a turning point in your life. Reality will finally reveal itself to you in all its glory and you’ll understand and appreciate hard work,’ said Dad.

‘There’s no need to gloat over the fact that my dream is about to be shattered into a thousand pieces. Besides, a lot can happen in a few days.’ Derek began to rap:

‘It ain’t over till I’m one year older

And you can sit there and be all smug

About working real jobs and pullin’ the plug

On my financial assistance but don’t y’all worry cos

I got me a plan B cos entertainment’s in my blood, see?’

‘Very nice, son, get it all out of your system now, because there’ll be no need for any of that lark when you come to work for me.’

‘What plan B?’ I asked, hoping he wasn’t referring to his suggestion that he and Gonzo move in with me.

‘All will be revealed on Saturday night. If there’s anything to reveal, that is,’ he added.

‘I won’t hold my breath so,’ said Dad.

‘Hey, Dad, who won the Oscar for Best Original Song in 2003?’ Derek asked.

‘That eejit you think is so great who named himself after a chocolate bar or something.’

‘Eminem for “Lose Your self”. And his old man didn’t believe in him either.’

‘Very apt title,’ said Dad. Then, turning his attention to me, he asked, ‘What was wrong with you last night? I heard you pacing at three in the morning.’

‘Couldn’t sleep,’ I said.

‘Are you stressed about the new job?’ Derek asked.