Authors: Sinéad Moriarty
Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Family Saga, #Fiction, #Love Stories, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Romance, #Women's Fiction
‘I like looking after you and I hope you marry someone you love, regardless of the size of his wallet. Besides, I’d hate you to live in LA – it’s too far away and it’s full of vacuous people who’ve had too much plastic surgery.’
‘Is “vacuous” a kind of Botox?’
Alice tried not to laugh. ‘No.’
‘Is it a type of filler?’
‘How do you even know about these things?’
Jools shrugged. ‘The Kardashians. They get it done and they look amazing.’
Alice frowned. ‘I told you that I didn’t want you watching that rubbish any more.’
‘Then how come I caught you watching it last week?’
Alice had been caught red-handed, glued to
Keeping Up With the Kardashians
– it was her secret guilty pleasure. After dealing with patients’ problems all day, she liked nothing better than to kick back and watch cheesy reality TV.
‘I wanted to see if it was as bad as I thought.’ Alice fudged the question.
‘ “Vacuous” means “not expressing intelligent thought”.’ Holly looked up from her dictionary.
‘The Kardashians would be an excellent example of that,’ Alice noted.
‘I think they rock. Their life is so cool.’
‘I want to be like Malala Yousafzai,’ Holly said.
Alice paused. ‘Well, yes, she is incredibly brave, but I’d rather you didn’t get shot for your beliefs.’
Jools’s mouth dropped open. ‘OMG, is she the kid who got shot because she
wanted
to go to school? I thought it was a joke when Miss Kent told us about her. Then I presumed
there was something wrong with her, like she was mentally ill or something. Why would anyone get on some stupid bus to go to school if they could stay at home? I actually said to Miss Kent that I wanted to go and live in Pakistan. It sounded awesome – no school for girls. How cool is that?’
Alice covered her eyes with her hand. ‘What did Miss Kent say?’
‘She was all red in the face and went on this crazy rant about women’s rights and sufferagettes and equality and blah-blah-blah.’
Alice didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It was Holly’s turn to be incredulous. ‘I’m actually embarrassed to be your sister right now. Malala Yousafzai is the bravest, most courageous girl in the world. She risked her life to get an education. You’re just … just –’
‘What? Dumb? Stupid?’ Jools challenged her.
‘Ignorant.’
‘At least I knew Flo Rida was a rapper and not an actual place in America!’
‘Florida
is
a place in America. It’s one of the fifty states in America. He just took the name and cut it up,’ Holly countered.
‘Oh, my God, you’re like an old woman who lives in the Dark Ages,’ Jools shouted. ‘You should read less and actually watch some TV so you know what’s going on in the world.’
‘Sure, because knowing Flo Rida is some loser who can’t even sing is going to make my life so much better.’
‘You might make some actual friends if you can talk to them about normal things.’
‘You –’
Alice put a hand on each daughter’s shoulder. ‘Enough! Stop being so mean to each other. I always wanted a sister
and you’re lucky to have each other. I hate seeing you guys fighting.’
‘Kevin is kind of like a sister,’ Jools said.
Holly giggled.
Alice grinned and went back to her cooking.
Ben put his head down and hunched his shoulders against the driving rain. His legs were aching and his heart was pumping. He rode on. It felt good to push himself. He glanced at his watch: he was two minutes faster than last week. If he could keep it up for the final five miles, he’d beat his best time.
He pounded along the wet London streets, ignoring his ringing phone. It would be Alice, moaning at him for being late. She didn’t get it. He needed to let off steam after a long day operating. She was lucky, really. Some of his colleagues went straight to the wine bar opposite the hospital and drank themselves into oblivion. Others shagged young nurses or interns.
But Ben preferred to cycle. Not that the idea of getting drunk or having hot sex with a young nurse wasn’t appealing, but he was a married man and he took that seriously. Sure he’d been tempted over the years, but so far he had resisted.
He really wished Alice would back off and stop nagging him about cycling. She said it took up too much time and that it was dangerous. She said he spent enough time away from home at the hospital and didn’t need to waste an extra six or seven hours a week cycling.
The problem was, her job was easy. Ben didn’t want to belittle her, but it really was. She doled out antibiotics and listened to old people complain about aches and pains. It
wasn’t exactly cutting-edge. Alice was a very good GP and Ben was proud of how she had built up her practice, but she didn’t understand the pressures of being a surgeon. Ben dealt with life and death. Granted, he did a lot of run-of-the-mill procedures too, but the complex operations always gave him a high. Occasionally they gave him a terrible low: a patient’s death was never easy. Every patient he lost weighed heavily on his mind. People complained that surgeons got paid too much, but they had no idea of the toll a bad day could take on a person.
Thankfully the good days, of which there were many, made up for the bad ones. Ben loved the cut and thrust of the operating theatre. He loved the feeling of entering the ‘zone’, the place where you went when all noise was blocked out and it was just you and the body lying in front of you.
There was nothing like the rush of adrenalin when you were in the middle of a difficult surgery. Surgeons had a bad reputation. People accused them of having God complexes. Ben never felt like God, but saving someone’s life was pretty fantastic. It was a high he’d never get tired of. That moment of elation, when he knew the patient was going to live because of his handiwork, was like a drug.
Alice couldn’t understand. No one could. You had to be there. You had to witness it first-hand. Ben knew that he was at the top of his game right now and he wanted to do more. He wanted to challenge himself.
He looked up and saw David, wearing a bright green jacket, waiting for him, sheltering under a tree.
‘I was hoping you’d cancel,’ David said.
‘No way. This is my release before going home to bedlam. Honestly, I think you and Pippa have it right – one child, who goes to boarding-school. Your home life must be bliss.’
David pushed his pedals and fell into rhythm with Ben. ‘It
suits us, but come on, Ben, you adore your girls. You’d hate them to be away at boarding-school.’
Ben smiled. His friend was right. He would hate it if the girls were away. He loved seeing them, although lately it had become less fun. It was all homework and hormones, these days. Things had changed.
‘Any more thoughts on applying for a job at Addenbrooke’s?’ David asked.
‘I’m still thinking about it but haven’t approached them yet. I’m very tempted. I want to push myself. I’m in a bit of a rut – I’m sick of doing appendectomies and hernia repairs.’
‘Well, a major trauma centre like Addenbrooke’s would certainly shake things up for you. But Cambridge isn’t an easy commute,’ David pointed out.
Ben wiped rain from his eyes. ‘I know. Alice will go completely mad if I do get a job there, but I need more stimulation. I feel as if life is passing me by.’
‘Well, be careful. Remember what happened to me when I had my mid-life blip two years ago? I almost lost Pippa.’
David had had a fling with one of the nurses at the private hospital where he worked and Pippa had found out. They had almost split up, but David had begged and pleaded and offered to go to marriage counselling, and things had settled down. Ben was glad they’d worked things out. They were good together. Pippa was a lovely woman and he would have hated to see them separate.
‘You’ve got a good marriage,’ David said. ‘Don’t rush into taking a job that might damage it. Pippa always says that you and Alice are the best couple we know because you still have fun together. All our other friends just bicker all the time.’
‘We’ve been bickering a lot more recently, but I know what you mean. Alice is wonderful and I don’t want to cause problems. Maybe I need to look for stimulation elsewhere.’
‘As long as you don’t look for it where I did,’ David warned. ‘Stay away from the nurses is my advice.’
Ben knew Alice would go nuts if he took a job in Cambridge. It would mean longer hours and many overnights at the trauma centre. Alice would never move. She had her thriving practice and the girls were settled at school. They’d only bought the house three years ago, Alice’s dream home. It was just off Kensington High Street in a little courtyard of eight.
‘I think turning forty-five has thrown me,’ Ben admitted. David was the only person in the world he could say this to and not feel self-conscious. He knew his friend understood. ‘I suddenly realized that more than half my life was over. Let’s be honest here, I’ve only got ten more years at the top of my game, fifteen if I’m lucky.’
‘But look at what you’ve achieved already,’ David reminded him.
‘There’s so much more I want to learn and do. I suddenly feel as if a time-bomb’s ticking loudly in my ear.’
‘I do understand, but sometimes it’s important to look at what you have instead of what you don’t. Believe me, Ben, I made that mistake and almost lost my family.’
Ben arrived home soaking wet and exhausted. As he squelched through the hall in his wet socks towards the kitchen, he could hear Alice and Jools arguing.
‘Come on, Jools, concentrate. It’s ten past nine, you’re tired and so am I. We need to get this finished.’
‘I’m trying,’ Jools snapped. ‘I don’t understand the stupid question!’
‘It’s not that difficult, darling. You just need to explain why Henry the Eighth split with Rome.’
‘I don’t care about boring old Henry the Eighth and his millions of wives. He was just a big, fat, greedy loser who married women to have babies with, and when they had girls, he killed them off. If you’d been married to him, you would have had your head chopped off.’
‘If you could find a way to express that more eloquently, we’d be halfway there. Now, come on, why did Henry turn his back on Rome?’
‘Because he wanted to marry Anne of Cleves.’
‘No, not Anne of Cleves.’
‘Fine. Catherine Something.’
‘No, Jools, it was Anne Boleyn. We’ve been over this a million times.’
‘Well, if he wasn’t such a sleazebag and didn’t marry so many women, I wouldn’t be getting mixed up.’
Ben knew that this would end in yet another argument between his wife and daughter. They clashed constantly. Since Jools’s hormones had kicked in, she had become more difficult to deal with, but Alice was too impatient with her. Ben found Jools trying too, but he was better at handling her. He came up with games to help her remember things. When it came to exams, Alice always begged him to help her study. He felt sorry for his elder daughter. It wasn’t easy for her. Both he and Alice had sailed through school and Holly was always top of her class. Poor old Jools simply wasn’t that academic. Ben just wanted her to be happy, get through school and do something she liked.
He and Alice were already putting money aside for both daughters to help them buy an apartment when they were older. Jools was very pretty and street-smart, and Ben reckoned she’d be fine. Holly was incredibly bright, but clueless about life. He worried more about her. He could see her
spending her whole life with her head stuck in a book and waking up at forty, single, with no children and nothing but her work to keep her warm at night.
Alice told him he was being ridiculous: Holly would meet some like-minded brainbox and live happily ever after doing research or finding the cure for cancer. She worried all the time about Jools not having a career, taking a dead-end job, meeting the wrong type of boy and getting pregnant at eighteen.
‘Hello, everyone. Having fun with the Tudors, I hear.’ Ben kissed Jools’s head.
‘Ooh, you’re all wet and gross.’ She pulled away from him.
Ben kissed his wife.
‘You’re soaking, Ben.’ Alice wiped the rain from her cheek. ‘Can you dry off and help Jools with her homework?’
‘Give me five minutes for a very quick shower and I’ll be straight back down.’
When Ben came out of the bathroom, Alice was sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘Thank God you walked in when you did. I was about to shove the history book down her throat. She has the concentration span of a gnat!’
Ben pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. ‘I know, but you really must try to be more patient, darling.’
Alice tensed. ‘That’s easy for you to say, swanning in at nine o’clock. I’ve already spent almost two hours trying to help her with her homework, so please don’t tell me I’m not being patient.’
Ben leant down and kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t blow a fuse. I know it’s not easy. I’ll take over and you can relax.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ Alice smiled.
He left Alice reading and went back down to Jools. When he walked into the kitchen, Jools had her back to him and
was FaceTiming her friend Chloë. ‘I know, right? He’s totally hot,’ she said.
‘And he totally fancies you, Jools,’ Chloë replied.
‘No way!’ Jools protested weakly.
Ben smiled. Jools was well aware that she was a good-looking girl.
‘He so does. I bet you get together at Amelia’s party.’
‘Is he definitely going, then?’ Jools was trying to sound nonchalant.
‘Yes. He told Jeremy who told Alex who told Jude who told me.’
‘Okay, well, that’s cool.’
‘What are you going to wear?’
Jools shrugged. ‘I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe my pink Topshop dress.’
‘OMG, you should so wear that! It’s amazing on you! Ollie will die when he sees you in it.’
Let’s hope not, thought Ben. He didn’t want his daughter causing anyone’s demise.
‘My mum thinks it’s too short. My dad hasn’t seen it. He’d go mental if he did. He’s such a nerd – he thinks I should be wearing long skirts like those freaks who live in cults in America. You know, the ones where one man has, like, twenty wives and they all call each other “Sister”. So weird.’
Ben coughed loudly. ‘Exactly how short is this dress, Jools?’
Jools squealed and hung up. ‘For God’s sake, Daddy, you almost gave me a heart attack. How long have you been standing there?’
‘Long enough to know some guy called Ollie likes you, you’re getting together at Amelia’s party and you’re planning on wearing an obscenely short dress.’
Jools blushed. ‘You shouldn’t eavesdrop. It’s rude.’
‘You will not be going anywhere in a dress that’s too short. You’re a beautiful girl, Jools, and you don’t need to show off all your flesh.’
‘Please stop talking. You’re so embarrassing.’
‘I’m serious. I know you look at me and think, Old Man, but I was once a teenager and I didn’t find the girl in the shortest dress the most attractive. It was the girl with the dress that actually covered her bottom and had the best smile that I went for.’
‘Mum has a nice smile, when she uses it,’ Jools said, doodling on her copybook.
‘Mum has a fantastic smile. It lights up a room.’
Jools yawned, clearly bored with the conversation. Ben clapped his hands. ‘Right, what have you got left to do?’
‘I’m supposed to learn the first verse of this boring poem.’ Jools handed Ben her book and pointed.
‘Ah, “The Lady of Shalott” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I remember this one. Right, off you go.’
Jools’s brow knitted in concentration. ‘ “On each side of the river lies a field of long … grass”?’
‘No, it’s “On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky.” ’
‘Oh, yeah. Okay. “On each side” –’
‘No, Jools, it’s “On either side”.’
‘Okay. “On either side of the river lies fields of … of … ” ’
‘ “Long fields of barley and of rye”.’
‘ “Long fields of barely any rye”.’
‘No, Jools, it’s not “barely”, it’s “barley”.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the same.’
‘No, it isn’t. Barley is a grain and “barely” means “scarcely”.’
‘Fine, whatever.’
‘Start from the beginning.’ Ben glanced down at the
poem. There were nine lines to learn. This was going to take a while.
‘ “On each side of the river lies a field of barley and rye.” ’
‘You’re nearly there.’ Ben was determined to be positive. ‘You just need to add in a few words – “On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye …” ’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Not exactly. Okay, let’s move on to the next line. We can get a rhythm going. ‘ “That clothe the wold and meet the sky”.’
‘That closes the world and met the sky.’
‘ “Clothe”.’
‘Oh, “close”.’
‘No, the word is “clothe”.’
‘What?’
‘ “Clothe”.’
‘What does that even mean? Hello, it’s just a made-up word.’
‘No, Jools, it isn’t. It means “to dress”.’
‘Dress the world? Is he a designer? Was he like Victoria Beckham back in the old days?’
‘No. He was a poet. It’s an expression.’
‘Oh.’ Jools looked disappointed. ‘For a nano-second I thought he might actually be interesting.’
‘He’s one of the most famous poets in the history of the world.’
‘Yeah, right. Well, he doesn’t do it for me. This poem sucks.’
Ben took a deep breath. ‘Come on, Jools, concentrate. You need to focus so you can learn the poem and not be here all night.’