Me and My Sisters (14 page)

‘She’s such a sweet little thing. Does she ever give out?’

‘Not really, she’s very good.’

‘You were an easy child, too. You never complained, just got on with it, unlike your sisters. Well, I’d better go and get this number from Julie.’

‘OK, ’bye.’

I decided to call Louise to warn her that Mum was trying to track down her invented New York boyfriend.

‘Oh, God, she’s like a dog with a bone.’ Louise groaned.

‘She’s just thinking of the baby. You should have told her he was killed in a car crash – it would have been easier.’

‘He might have to die soon. I can’t handle the third degree again. I’m too busy to deal with Mum.’

‘Go easy on her. She’s worried the baby will feel abandoned.’

‘There are millions of single-parent families and the kids grow up to be completely normal.’

‘I know, but she’s old-fashioned.’

‘Well, I’ll be able to dodge her for a while. I’m flying to Buenos Aires tonight so Julie can pretend she couldn’t get in touch with me.’

‘Should you be flying so late in your pregnancy?’

‘It’s fine. My obstetrician checked my blood pressure and said I’m OK to go.’

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

‘Fat.’

‘The last part is just awful – you feel like a whale.’

‘I can’t wait to have stomach muscles again.’

‘You’re so fit, they’ll bounce back. Pilates is really good for that.’

‘I’ve got a personal trainer lined up already. By the way, did you do the Gina Ford routine with Jess?’

‘Totally.’

‘And it worked?’

‘She took a bit longer than Gina said, but she started sleeping through the night from when she was eleven weeks old.’

‘I knew it worked. Julie told me to burn the book. She said it’s crap.’

‘Julie’s kids don’t sleep!’

‘That’s exactly what I said.’

‘Follow Gina Ford’s advice. Her feeding routine is really good too. Are you going to breast-feed?’

‘Hardly. I’m going back to work after three weeks, and I’ve no intention of pumping my boobs like some kind of cow. She’ll be on bottles from day one.’

‘I did it for six weeks. It was nice, actually.’

‘You weren’t working twelve-hour days. It’s just not a runner for me.’

It really annoyed me the way Louise dismissed my life. I took a deep breath and stayed calm.

‘Which buggy should I get?’ she asked.

‘The Bugaboo Cameleon is streets ahead of the others.’ It felt strange having Louise ask me for advice: she never usually asked anyone for their opinion. She always knew best.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’

‘I’m going to New York tomorrow if you want me to get you any baby stuff over there?’

‘Thanks, but I’ve got everything. I just needed to make a final decision on the buggy. How long are you going for?’

‘Four days.’

‘You should definitely go and see Eugene O’Neill’s
The Iceman Cometh
. Apparently the new production is incredible.’

‘I think Jack’s made plans already, but if not, we’ll check it out,’ I lied. There was no way I was going to some boring play. The last time we’d gone to New York, Louise had told us to go and see
Krapp’s Last Tape
. Jack didn’t want to but Louise had gone on and on about it so much I felt under pressure. I swear it was the worst thing I ever saw. Its only saving grace was that it was short.

A guy comes out on stage and eats a banana while playing a tape. Jack kept whispering loudly, ‘
Krapp’s Last Tape
is crap,’ and we couldn’t stop laughing. The people around us were furious and kept glaring at us and shushing us. When Louise asked me if I’d enjoyed it, I’d just said it was interesting. There was no point in telling her I’d thought it was utter rubbish. She’d have gone on about how I’d missed the meaning of Beckett’s exploration of expressing silence through sound, blah-di-blah. I really didn’t care: it was just plain boring. Maybe he’d have been better off expressing sound through silence and giving us all a break.

When I was in New York, I wanted to shop, drink cocktails in fabulous bars and go to amazing restaurants. The last thing I was going to do was sit through another ‘worthy’ play.

We said goodbye and I continued with my packing.

The next morning, Gavin came over. I’d asked him to move in while we went to New York to help out with Jess while we were gone. He threw himself down on the couch and let out a contented sigh. ‘God, I love this house. It’s so comfortable.’

‘It’s also clean and I’d like it kept that way.’ I pointed to his shoes, which he took off.

‘You know I don’t want your girlfriend sleeping over. I’ve never met her and neither have Jess and Mimi, so it’s not fair to them. There’s food in the fridge but you’ll probably want to buy other stuff, so I’ve left you money for groceries and some new clothes. You look like a down-and-out in those raggy combats.’ I handed him an envelope.

He looked inside. ‘Yowser! There’s seven hundred quid here.’

‘I also need you to help Mimi with Jess. She doesn’t drive, so you’ll need to bring Jess to swimming on Friday. I’ve organized for other mums to take her to and from her other extra-curricular activities. Remember to take your shoes off at the front door, and I’m locking our bedroom because I don’t want you and your smelly socks in there.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Gavin saluted me. ‘Any other orders?’

‘If you want a drink, you can have any of the wines in the kitchen wine rack. Do not go near the cellar – that’s got Jack’s prize possessions in it. And – it goes without saying – don’t get drunk in front of Jess.’

‘Don’t worry, Sophie. I won’t throw any wild parties, I’ll walk around shoeless and I’ll take Jess swimming.’

Mimi came in carrying a basket of laundry. She smiled when she saw Gavin – she was very fond of him. He went over to hug her. ‘Hey, Mimi, it’s you and me, babe. We’ve got a free house for four days. Party time!’

‘Don’t spoil him, Mimi,’ I warned her. Gavin had moved in a year ago when we went skiing and Mimi had spent a week cooking him banquets and doing all his laundry and ironing. ‘He’s perfectly capable of doing his own cooking and laundry.’

‘I don’t mind. Gavin is nice boy,’ Mimi said.

‘Right, well, I’d better go.’

‘Your flight’s in three hours!’ Gavin said.

‘Yes, but I hate being rushed. I want to have plenty of time to buy magazines and healthy snacks. The food they serve on flights is so fattening.’

I went in to get Jess, who was playing with her dolls. ‘Come on, sweetie, we need to go to school now and then Mummy is going away for a few days.’

‘Again?’ she asked.

‘It’s only four days – which is actually only three sleepies.’

‘Why can’t I come?’

‘Because it’s a work trip for Daddy and Mummy is going to help him. You’d be bored.’

‘No, I wouldn’t. Please, Mummy, take me too.’ Her sweet little chin began to wobble.

I held her shoulders. ‘Jess, look at me. It’s only three nights and Uncle Gavin and Mimi will be here to look after you. And if you’re good I’ll bring you back a big present. OK?’

‘OK. I’ll miss you, Mummy.’

I held her close. ‘I’ll miss you too, baby. I love you.’

Hours later I checked into our enormous room in the Four Seasons on 57
th
Street, freshened up and hit the shops.

Later that day I went to meet Jack in Whiskey Blue, the bar in the W Hotel on Times Square. He’d called to say he’d got stuck in work and wouldn’t make it back to the hotel. I should hop in a cab and meet him there. When I arrived he was surrounded by three female colleagues, all flirting with him. I plastered a smile on my face, pulled my shoulders back, held my head high and strutted over to him. I was in my Hervé Léger dress and a new pair of Christian Louboutin shoes from Saks. I knew I looked good, but those women were so confident and ballsy they made me nervous.

When Jack saw me, he whistled. ‘Babe, you look great.’ He kissed me.

‘Thanks. So do you.’ I moved in beside him, nudging one of the girls out of the way.

‘This is Jennie, Samantha and Holly.’

‘Can you get me a drink, please?’ I asked Jack, barely giving the girls the time of day. I’d seen it all before. Women were always coming on to Jack. He was good-looking, friendly, chatty and rich. Even in Dublin, where everyone knew everyone else, I’d seen women flirting with him at parties we went to. I was damned if any floozy was going to take my man. I worked far too hard at looking good and keeping him happy to let him go.

‘Sure. Vodka and soda?’ he checked.

‘Yes, please.’ I smiled.

‘So what do you do, Sophie?’ one of the girls asked me.

‘I’m a full-time mum,’ I said.

‘You don’t work at all?’

‘No, I used to –’

Jack turned around to hand me my drink and said, ‘Work! Sophie has a degree in shopping and a master’s in shoes.’

They all roared laughing. I tried not to let it bother me, but it did. I felt belittled. I glared at Jack. I didn’t like him in New York. He was all shouty and loud and brash. At home, he was attentive and affectionate when we were out and was always telling people what a great wife and mother I was. He made me feel loved and appreciated. But with his colleagues in New York he was different. I also felt out of place with his work people. At home I was in charge. I knew where I stood. I was second only to Victoria in looks and style. I had status. People knew who I was. I was comfortable, safe. I was Jack’s wife, Jess’s mother, Sophie the model-turned-yummy-mummy.

‘Sophie, how are you, honey?’ Jack’s partner in the hedge fund, Brad Hooper, came over to greet me. ‘You look sensational! What the hell are you taking? Youth pills? I’ll tell you what, Jack, you’ve got a catch here.’

I leant over and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks, Brad, you look good too. How’s Harriet?’

‘We’re getting divorced.’

‘Oh, no. What happened?’ Harriet was Brad’s second wife. I’d only met her once, but she’d seemed very nice.

‘She found out I was screwing my secretary. I know, I’m a walking cliché, but that girl had the best titties I’d ever seen.’

‘Brad.’ Jack put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I don’t think Sophie needs the details.’

‘Are you still seeing this girl?’ I asked.

‘No. As soon as she found out Harriet had left me she started putting the squeeze on me to get engaged so I fired her. I don’t need another wife or expensive divorce. I’m done with that. I just want someone to have sex with occasionally.’

‘Gee, Brad, what a great offer. I’m sure the women will be queuing up to take advantage of it,’ I said.

‘Honey, this is New York. You can get anything you want.’ Brad grinned. Then, throwing an arm around Jack, he added, ‘You’re very lucky with this boy here. He had women throwing themselves at him in the club last night, but he kept telling them he was happily married. It just made them want him even more. It was a riot. They were like bees to honey.’

I looked at Jack, who shook his head. ‘Ignore Brad. He’s talking through his arse as usual.’

Brad turned around to order a drink and I pulled Jack aside. ‘What nightclub?’ I asked.

‘It’s no big deal. We went for a few drinks after dinner in some new club in SoHo.’

‘Who went?’

‘Just the office gang.’

‘Who was coming on to you?’

‘Some random girls. It was nothing and, as Brad said, I told them all I was married.’

‘I’d really prefer if you didn’t go to nightclubs when I’m not around. It’s just putting yourself in temptation’s way. Why didn’t you just go back to the hotel?’

‘Brad wanted to go out and it was a bit of fun. Seriously, relax, it’s no big deal. I wasn’t tempted by anyone.’

We got interrupted again and the conversation turned to work and how much money they were making. There was a lot of back-slapping, then congratulatory drinks and numerous toasts about someone called Hartley. I watched Jack revelling in it all. What would I do if he was ever unfaithful? Would I forgive him? Would I take him to court and screw him for every penny he owned?

One of the models I used to work with, Daisy, married a very wealthy guy, a real catch, but after years of what seemed like a happy marriage, she found out he’d been having an affair and she left him. She got a big settlement in the divorce, but she was alone. Her life as she’d known it was over. People didn’t invite her to parties and balls. She only ever got invited to women’s lunches. I hadn’t seen her in years until I’d met her at a cystic fibrosis lunch last May. She’d got drunk and was crying to me in the bathroom that she’d never meet another man. I’d tried to reassure her but she said, ‘Look, Sophie, I’m forty-one. I can’t go to bars on my own looking to meet someone. They’ll think I’m a hooker. I never get invited to parties where I might meet a man because the wives don’t want any single women around. I’ve gone from being one of the gang to being a threat. My social life was based around my husband, and now all of his friends’ wives have stopped calling. I’m a social pariah. Sometimes I wish I’d forgiven him. And I wish I was still married because I was somebody, I had a place in life. Now I’m no one.’

I was really shaken by that conversation because she was right. The minute her marriage had broken up she was no longer part of the social scene. Single women made married women uncomfortable.

‘Hey there, are we boring you with all our work talk?’ Jack whispered in my ear.

‘I was just thinking I’d like to go back to the hotel and show you my new lingerie.’ I winked at him.

That got his attention. He told everyone I was jet-lagged and needed to lie down. We went back to our gorgeous hotel room and had sex in the bed, the bath and the shower. I was damned if any floozy was going to take my man. I’d do whatever I needed to do to keep him happy and satisfied.

The next morning Jack and I went to the gym to work out and then he went to the office. As he was leaving, he kissed me goodbye. ‘Spend as much money as you like today, Sophie. Go mad, you deserve it.’

My stomach flipped. I had just been given
carte blanche
to buy anything I wanted. Yippeeeeeee!

I spent four hours in Bergdorf Goodman being worshipped by the sales lady. I was shown to a huge dressing room, with a wall-to-wall mirror, a couch and a coffee table that had sparkling water and fresh flowers. I was offered champagne, which I accepted, and then Bernice, my new best friend, asked me what my style was and what I was looking to achieve today. I told her that I needed new smart-casual clothes for the daytime, a chic but not OTT look for school pick-ups and coffee mornings, and that I needed glamorous cocktail dresses and ballgowns for the evening events I’d be going to. I told her my favourite designers were Marc Jacobs, Hervé Léger, Dolce & Gabbana, Prada, Jason Wu, Moschino and Vera Wang.