In My Sister's Shoes (22 page)

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Authors: Sinead Moriarty

BOOK: In My Sister's Shoes
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‘I’m really sorry, Kate, I know I’ve landed you in it, but this is out of my control. I have to sort out this glitch or the paper is useless. I’ve called Derek, who said he might be able to help out.’

I threw the phone across the car.

When I arrived at the school, the twins were staring forlornly out the window with a cross Mrs Foleytut-tutting behind them. They looked very pleased to see me. Clearly they’d thought they’d been abandoned. It was bad enough having a bald, sick mother in hospital, but to have a useless fecker for a father was really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

I bundled them into the car, trying to pretend everything was fine, then proceeded to drive to the airport in record time. Many was the corner I took on two wheels, many was the red light I broke. I was a woman possessed. The boys giggled in the back. They were having their very own private rollercoaster ride. I flung the car on to the kerb outside Departures, grabbed the boys and ran in. The place was full of happy travellers and I couldn’t see Mark anywhere. Luckily Jack spotted him in the security queue.

‘There’s Daddy!’ he shouted, and ran over to his fugitive father, who looked shocked to see us.

‘Hi,’ I said. ‘Going somewhere?’

Mark took in my dangerously red face. ‘Hello, Kate.’

‘Here are your children. I’m off to work,’ I said, and stormed away, leaving the twins with their father.

‘Wait!’ Mark shouted, but I kept walking. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm. ‘I have to get that plane.’

‘It’s not my problem,’ I said, walking towards the exit door.

Mark followed me, dragging the twins with him. ‘You have to do me this one last favour, Kate. After this competition is over I promise I’ll be much more hands-on. But I have to go now.’

‘Fuck you
and your stupid bloody paper!’ I shouted, as people queuing spun round to see what was going on.

‘There’s no need to cause a scene.’

‘If it’s the only way to get through to you I’ll cause the biggest scene you’ve ever witnessed.’

Mark looked at his watch. ‘Kate, listen to me, I have to get that flight. Fiona understands the importance of this. Please bear with me on this one. Once this is over you can work as many days as you like. I’m sorry but I have to go now.’

‘Don’t even think about it!’ I lunged at him as he tried to walk away.

Meanwhile Bobby tugged at my leg. ‘Jack just did a pee-pee,’ he said, and I turned to see Jack, in tears, standing in a puddle of urine.

‘Oh, Jack, pet,’ I said, bending down to him.

‘I’m sorry, Auntie Kate. The shouting made me scared.’

I looked at Mark. ‘Go on – go. You’re no use here, anyway.’

He bent down to kiss the boys. ‘It’s OK, Jack. Kate and Daddy are being silly. It’ll all be fine now. No more shouting, I promise, but I have to get on the plane. Be good for your auntie, and give Mummy a big kiss for me. I’ll see you very soon.’ Then, to me, he said, ‘Kate, I really am sorry about this, but I have no choice.’

‘Every decision you make is a choice,’ I replied, and went to look for a bathroom where I could clean Jack up.

When we got back into the car, my phone was ringing. It was Derek. ‘So, like, Mark said there was some emergency with the twins and I needed to look after the little dudes or something,’ he said, stifling a yawn.

‘Have you just woken up?’

‘Yeah, it was a late one last night. So, what’s the story?’

‘I’ve got to be at
Party in the Park
in an hour. I need you to keep an eye on the boys. I’ll be working until about eight, so you’ll have to put them to bed and give them dinner and a bath and all that.’

‘Yeah, cool, whatever. Just leave me some instructions.’

‘Derek,’ I snapped, ‘I haven’t got time to write instructions. Just feed them, play with them, bathe them and put them to bed. It’s not rocket science.’

‘OK, chill, I’ll sort it.’

‘I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes and drop you all back to the house. I’ve made lunch, so all you need to do is dinner.’

‘Cool, whatever.’

I hung up with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Derek wasn’t the most responsible twenty-six-and-a-half-year-old. Would he be able to cope with the boys? They were pretty full on. Still, he was an intelligent young man… ‘Boys, your uncle Derek is going to look after you today. It’s his first time in charge, so you need to tell him what to do. OK?’

‘I’m hungry,’ whimpered Jack.

‘Me too,’ said Bobby.

‘I’ve made your favourite cheesy bread for lunch.’

‘I don’t want cheesy bread. I want ice-cream,’ said the emotional Jack.

‘I want Mummy to put me to bed,’ said Bobby.

‘I want Mummy to give me my bath,’ sobbed Jack.

‘I want Mummy to come home,’ said Bobby, crying now.

I turned around. ‘Come on, guys, I know it’s hard, but Mummy’ll be back tomorrow and then she can give you your baths. She’ll be better then.’

‘All better from the bad sickness?’ asked Jack.

‘Will she not have to have the nasty medicine any more that makes her hair fall out?’ said Bobby, perking up at the thought that his mother was going to be back to normal.

Damn, I shouldn’t have said ‘better’: now theyhad their hopes up.

‘Well, what I meant was that tomorrow she’ll be better from the cold. But she still has to have the strong medicine to fight the bad sickness.’

‘When will she be all better?’ asked Jack.

‘Soon, sweetheart. Very soon.’

‘Next week?’ asked Bobby.

‘Not exactly next week, but a few weeks after that,’ I said. She had about three months of treatment to go, but to a five-year-old three months was a lifetime, so I opted for a more short-term answer.

Jack kicked the seat. ‘I want Mummy to be better now.’

‘So do I,’ I said, ‘but we have to be patient. I promise you it will be worth the wait. You’ll see, she’ll be back to her old self soon. It’ll be great. But for now we have to be very kind to Mummy and give her lots of hugs and kisses and not be grouchy. OK?’

The two little heads nodded. They’d walk on fire if it meant their mother’s cancer would go away.

When I picked up Derek, Gonzo was lurking in the background. Both were equally hung-over. They climbed into the back of the car and we set off for Fiona’s house.

‘You smell yucky,’ Jack said to Gonzo.

‘Oh, yeah? Well, you smell of piss,’ said Gonzo.

‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘He’s only a kid.’

‘He peed in his pants,’ giggled Bobby, as Jack punched him.

‘That’s cool,’ said Gonzo. ‘Sometimes you just gotta go.’

‘Kate said “fuck” to Daddy in the airport,’ Bobby snitched.

‘Did she really?’ said Derek, grinning at me. ‘I don’t blame her.’

‘It was bold of me and I’m sorry, so we won’t mention it again,’ I said, trying to do some damage control. I didn’t want them telling Fiona about myfish wife behaviour in the airport.

‘And what did your dad say?’ asked Derek, stirring it up.

‘Derek…’ I warned.

‘He said, “Jesus”,’ said Jack.

‘That’s enough, boys. Let’s forget about the airport,’ I said firmly, as I parked the car.

I showed Derek and Gonzo where everything was, laid out fresh towels and pyjamas on the bed, then hugged the twins and told them I’d be back in time to kiss them goodnight.

God knows what kind of babysitters the two rappers would turn in to. I had a pit in my stomach as I drove away leaving the twins in their care.

26

Two hours later, I was standing backstage in a football stadium as
Party in the Park
was about to begin. I had my new wig on, makeup professionally applied, clothes provided by a stylist, and I felt good about myself for the first time in ages. In fact, I felt wonderful. I looked like me again. The adrenaline rush of doing a live show was indescribable. My heart was thumping in mychest and mypalms were sweaty – I felt completely exhilarated.

The director counted down and we were live on air. Everything becomes a blur when you’re doing live TV. Nothing else going on in your life matters. You’re completely in the moment. Time stands still. The world outside the show was irrelevant to me. I had only one thought – what I was going to say next. It was incredibly liberating.

I interviewed the opening act before they went on, as the crowd went wild in anticipation. They were a group of four teenage boys from Kerry, who had just had a UK number one with their second single and they were as hyped and excited as I was. We fed off each other, and a few minutes later, when they ran on to the stage, I knew I’d done a good job. We’d opened the day with a bang. Enthusiasm is infectious and makes for great TV. I was on fire.

The next five hours were a whirlwind of interviews, commentaries, filling in the gaps while bands set up, and going into the crowd to talk to the excited fans. I also bantered to and fro with my co-host, Barry, an ambitious young guy who was a rising star on Irish TV. He was good-looking, confident and smart. He’d go a long way.

By the end of the show we had built up a good rapport and were joking and laughing like old friends. When we were finally off-air, Barry quizzed me about working in London. I saw his eyes light up when I told him I’d presented my own show. I failed to mention it was on a channel with low viewing figures and even smaller budgets. It felt good to be admired again. I liked being looked up to for what I had achieved instead of being given out to for not knowing that Bob the Builder’s stupid blue cat was called Pilchard.

‘That’s amazing,’ said Barry. ‘It’s my dream to have my own show. London’s where it’s at. This is all fine,’ he said, gesticulating around him, ‘but I want more. If you make it in London, you’ve really made it.’

I smiled to myself. It was like looking into a mirror. I’d felt exactly the same way when I’d emigrated. London was the Mecca for ambitious television presenters from Ireland. ‘Well, if you do go over, let me know and I’ll put you in touch with my old producers,’ I said. ‘They may not be able to help, but it’ll open a few doors.’

‘Brilliant, thanks. I’m planning to move over next year when I’ll have two years’ experience under my belt. I don’t want to leave it any later – you need to be young in this game. If you haven’t made it by the time you’re twenty-six, forget it, you’re a has-been,’ he said, as I squirmed in my seat. ‘So how come you’re back here?’ he asked, clearly horrified that anyone would leave London to return to Dublin.

‘I’m just on a break to help my sister, who’s sick. I should be back in London within three months,’ I said. And after the day I’d had I couldn’t
wait
to get back. I’d forgotten how much I loved my job. The feeling of doing something that I was good at was a high. A few blissful hours that didn’t involve having to think about anyone or anything but me. I’d needed this for my sanity. I wanted to be Kate O’Brien the individual again, not Auntie Kate, sister Kate, daughter Kate or general-dogs body Kate. Granted I wasn’t sure how things would go when I got back to London, but I was hoping that Donna would find me something to tide me over while I looked for a new presenting job. I was no spring chicken, but I had experience on my side and there was always Botox.

‘No one who hasn’t experienced it can understand the high of this job,’ said Barry, as we smiled knowingly at each other.

‘Well done, guys,’ said Peter Kildare, coming over with a tray of drinks. ‘That was fantastic. You’re a total pro, Kate. I’m impressed.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, beaming at him. ‘I enjoyed it. If anything else comes up, let me know.’

‘I certainly will. I owe Sam a pint for recommending you.’

He wasn’t the only one who owed Sam. I did too. I was disappointed when he had responded to my thank-you text with a curt ‘
You’re welcome
’. It hadn’t left much of an opening for conversation. He was probably far too busy having wild sex with the young one from the office.

‘Now, what’ll you have?’ asked Peter. ‘Beer, wine?’

‘Beer, thanks. What time is it?’ I asked absent-mindedly.

‘Half eight.’


What?
Shit! Sorry, I’ve got to kiss the twins goodnight,’ I said, promptly ruining any kudos I had built up with Barry.

I rang Derek but there was no answer. I called Gonzo’s mobile – no answer. No one was picking up the home phone. I put my foot on the accelerator and tried not to think of worst-case scenarios. There was probably a simple explanation – maybe Derek was reading them a story about an inventor that was so engrossing no one had heard the phone… and pigs will fly.

When I got to the house, it was in chaos. The kitchen was like a bombsite. Pizza boxes laystrewn on the floor and green peppers were stuck to the cupboard doors. I ran upstairs to the twins’ room. No one there. Maybe they’d been kidnapped by an axe-murderer. Stifling a sob, as I imagined the worst, I saw the light on in Fiona’s room and heard the low thud of music. I opened the door slowly and there before me lay a sight to behold.

Derek and Gonzo were passed out on the bed in their boxer shorts – not a pretty sight. Bobby was curled up under Gonzo’s armpit – God love him, I’d say the smell was only rancid – and Jack was sprawled across Derek’s chest. Both twins had wet hair and were butt naked. I was so relieved to see them in one piece that I didn’t care about the mess.

The TV was on in the background and some overweight rapper with gold teeth and saggy jeans was growling about the injustice of life. Wet towels lay on the floor beside soggy footprints. I felt a nudge and turned to see a drenched Teddy, looking very forlorn and fed up. Evidently he’d been given a bath too. I picked up a towel and rubbed him down. He looked directlyat me and I swear I could almost hear him pleading with me never to leave him alone with these four men again. I patted his head and promised to give him a juicy bone in the morning.

Then I lifted Jack up and put him into his own bed, snuggling him up under his duvet. He opened a sleepy eye and smiled at me. I kissed him, then went to rescue his brother. As I carried him to bed, Bobby woke briefly and mumbled, ‘I’m glad you’re back, Auntie Kate. I missed you,’ and fell back into a deep sleep as I cuddled him.

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