Me and My Sisters (8 page)

‘STOP!’ Marian put her hand up. ‘If you don’t, I’ll end up slitting my wrists.’

‘You’re right.’ I sighed. ‘Let’s be positive. Between us we have eight healthy children.’

‘And … we have a roof over our heads,’ she added.

‘And … food to eat.’

‘And brandy.’

‘And our health.’

‘And … I can’t think of anything else,’ Marian wailed.

Later that day I sprinted out of the house to the hairdresser. My brown hair had gone grey when I was only twenty-seven, so I’d been colouring it for years. The grey roots were showing through after the holidays and I really needed to sort it out. It was bad enough to have lost my figure so I sure as hell wasn’t going to be grey, too. I had asked Gloria, my cleaning lady – who did no cleaning at all, really – to come and look after the boys for two hours. She couldn’t so, in desperation, I had bribed Gavin to look after them by promising to give him the money to plant two new trees. He finally agreed to come down from his own tree to help me out.

‘Thanks, I really appreciate it,’ I told him, as he put his backpack on a chair.

‘It was hard to say no, you sounded so desperate.’

‘See my hair?’

‘Not a good look.’

‘How come you don’t smell bad and are all freshly shaven?’ I leant towards him and sniffed. ‘And … Hold on a minute, you’re wearing aftershave! What’s going on?’

He blushed. ‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, my God, have you met someone at the tree? Are you seeing one of those older golf ladies who bakes you the cottage pies? Is she a cougar?’ I giggled.

‘Jesus, Julie, give me some credit. They’re all Mum’s age. Believe me, none of that lot are cougars, although the captain’s wife is pretty fit.’

‘Tell me it’s not her! That would push Dad right over the edge.’

‘I’m not shagging the captain’s wife.’

‘So why did you blush? Who are you seeing?’

‘No one. Well, not yet anyway.’

I tapped my watch. ‘Gavin, I need to go and get my hair fixed so that I don’t look like a homeless person. I don’t have time for you being coy. Spit it out.’

‘OK, OK! Forest’s sister, Acorn, is back home for a while. She’s just finished up a three-month stint helping out with the Stop Heathrow Expansion campaign. She’s been hanging out with me in the tree and sitting in it when I need to go home to shower and stuff.’

‘Please tell me she doesn’t look like her brother.’

‘Give me some credit.’

‘Does she have his personality?’

‘If you mean is she as passionate about saving the climate, then yes.’

I groaned. ‘Why can’t you go out with a nice normal girl who doesn’t feel the need to save everything?’

‘She looks a bit like Angelina Jolie.’

‘Now it’s making more sense.’

‘And, yes, before you ask, she washes regularly.’

‘What do they call having sex in a tree? Is it the mile-high club or the tree-high club?’

‘None of your business.’ He laughed. ‘And we haven’t even snogged yet. We’re still getting to know each other.’

‘Haven’t plucked up the courage yet?’

‘I’m working on it.’

I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘She may look like Angelina Jolie, but you look like a young –’

‘Don’t say it.’ He squirmed.

‘Jason Donovan.’

‘Julie!’ He covered his face with his hands.

‘Jason was really good-looking in his day. We all fancied him in
Neighbours
– even Louise.’ I sniggered.

‘Stop talking right now.’

‘OK, I won’t torture you any more.’ I ruffled his surprisingly soft clean hair. ‘What’s Acorn’s real name?’

‘That
is
her real name. Her mother’s kind of a hippie.’

‘You don’t say! Does she know your real name isn’t Willow?’

‘No, and I’d like it to stay that way.’

‘The Willow and the Acorn … It sounds almost romantic. Have Mum and Dad met her?’

‘No, and I’m not planning to introduce them any time soon.’

‘Kind of hard to hide someone in a tiny space up a tree?’

‘They’re not exactly regular visitors. They only come down late at night to tell me I’m a gobshite.’

‘Well, they have a point. They spent a lot of money on your education and now you’re tree-sitting.’

‘This is the first time I’ve felt really passionately about something. The environment is our future.’

‘Gavin-Willow, you’ve felt passionately about loads of things – starting with Spider-Man, Nintendo, the guitar, Limp Bizkit, Destiny’s Child and then the
Matrix
movies. Remember when you started wearing Sophie’s long black leather coat everywhere and asking us to call you Neo or Morpheus depending on the day? So you see, little bro, this is definitely
not
your first obsession.’

‘Thanks for the reminder. Don’t you have to get off now – before you go completely grey?’ He hustled me out of the door.

‘OK. Don’t let the kids out of your sight. Tom is silent but deadly – he puts everything he can find into his mouth and could easily choke to death. Keep a close eye on him. Don’t let the triplets near the washing-machine or the DVD player. They’ve already broken them both twice.’

‘It’s cool, Julie, just go and do your thing. I have it all under control.’ Gavin waved me off.

As he was closing the door, I added, ‘No visitors – I don’t want you shagging Acorn in my bed. You’re here to babysit.’

‘Goodbye.’ He shut the door in my face.

Half an hour later, I was sitting peacefully in the hairdresser’s, my head covered with hair dye, a pile of magazines in front of me and a nice cup of sugary tea in my hand. Bliss.

My phone rang. I glanced down. It was Gavin’s mobile. I picked it up, heart sinking. ‘What’s up?’

‘Uhm, I think you need to come home, sis,’ he said. I could hardly hear him – there was a commotion going on in the background.

‘What happened?’

‘OK, don’t freak out, but there was kind of a fire, but not a bad one.’

‘JESUS CHRIST! Are the kids all right?’

‘Oh, yeah, totally, no injuries at all. They’re just getting a bollocking from the firemen.’

I hung up, ran out of the hairdresser’s – dye still in my hair – and drove home like a maniac. When I arrived, there was a fire-engine outside the house and I could see the triplets sitting in the front, pretending to drive it, under the supervision of two firemen.

‘What the hell?’ I asked Gavin, as he handed me a bewildered-looking Tom, who was naked and wrapped in a blanket.

‘The triplets got the tomato ketchup and poured it all over Tom, so I had to give him a bath to wash it off. Then they found matches and kind of lit a fire in the TV room. The neighbour saw smoke and called 999.’

‘Which neighbour?’ I asked.

‘The guy who looks like he wants to kill someone.’ Gavin pointed to Mr Ryan. He lived in the house behind us and hated us. The triplets were constantly kicking their football into his garden and climbing up on to the back wall and shouting, ‘Stinky bum,’ at him.

I could see him pointing at me and heard snatches of his conversation with the chief fireman: ‘Out of control … savages … need a firm hand … mother can’t cope at all … no parenting …’

The chief walked towards me. ‘Are you the mother?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your house is fine. Not much smoke damage at all, mostly just a bad smell, but that’ll go in a few days. However, the rug in your lounge has seen better days.’ He pointed to it on the road behind him. There was now a large black hole in the middle.

‘I’m sorry –’

He held up his hand. ‘No need to apologize, madam. I can see you’ve got your hands full. You can’t watch children twenty-four seven. Now, I’ve given the boys a stern talking-to and I don’t think they’ll be playing with matches again any time soon.’

‘But I don’t understand where they got them. I never have matches in the house – I’m not completely insane.’

Gavin looked sheepish. ‘I think they might have been mine. They were in my backpack. They must have found them when I was washing Tom.’

‘Jesus, they could have all been killed,’ I hissed.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘Look, these things happen,’ the fire chief interrupted us. ‘On a positive note, we didn’t have to use any water. We put it out with fire blankets so there’s no water damage. To be honest, Mrs … ?’

‘Nichols,’ I said.

‘Mrs Nichols, your main problem is your very angry neighbour. I’d steer clear of him for a few days, if I was you.’ He added, in a whisper, ‘And you might want to choose your babysitters more carefully.’

‘Thank you very much – and, again, I’m so sorry about all this,’ I said, wiping the dripping hair dye off my face with my sleeve.

The chief called the triplets down from the truck and lined them up in front of me. Their faces were tear-stained. I bent down to kiss them.

‘What do you say to your mummy?’ the chief asked.

‘Sorry, Mummy,’ they said solemnly, in unison.

‘What will you never, ever play with again unless you want to go to prison?’ he asked them.

‘Matches or any kind of fire,’ they chimed.

‘Now, be good for your mother,’ the chief said. He patted their heads, climbed into the fire-engine and drove away.

I turned to the arsonists. I was at a loss for words.

‘Mummy.’ Liam tugged my arm. ‘Are you super-cross?’

‘Are you the crossest ever?’ Leo asked.

‘Are you infinity cross?’ Luke wanted to know.

Before I could answer, Mr Ryan came marching towards me. ‘Mrs Nichols, I’d like a word.’

‘Not now, dude,’ Gavin said, blocking his path. ‘You can come back later and rant when their dad’s home.’ He pulled me and the boys into the house and closed the door.

The hall stank of smoke. I sank down to the floor and started to cry.

8

Louise

My office phone flashed. ‘What is it, Jasmine?’

‘It’s your mother again, Louise.’

‘Tell her I’m in another meeting.’

‘I did, but she said it was an emergency and she won’t hang up until she talks to you.’

Mum and I used to speak about once a month, but ever since I’d told her I was pregnant she’d been stalking me. This was the fourth time she’d rung this morning.

I picked up the phone. ‘Hi, Mum, what’s up? I’m really busy.’

‘I don’t care how busy you are. I’m calling to see how you’re getting on. I want to make sure you’re looking after yourself and the baby.’

‘I’m fine, the baby’s fine. It’s all good.’

‘Are you taking it easy? Have you cut down on your workload? You know that stress is very bad for babies – they can sense it. The more uptight you are when you’re pregnant, the more difficult the baby will be when it’s born.’

‘Mum, I’m not stressed, I’m just very busy.’

‘Have you spoken to the baby’s father yet?’

I gripped my desk. ‘No, Mum, I haven’t, and I’m not going to. I told you, he doesn’t want to know. Forget about him.’

‘How can I? Every child needs a father. You’ll have to make him see that he needs to be involved.’

‘I don’t want him to be involved. He’s an idiot.’

‘Why on earth did you go out with him, then?’

The last thing I wanted was to get into a long conversation with my mother about the baby’s dad. I needed to get her off the phone and off my back. I remembered Sophie’s suggestion at Christmas to pretend I was heartbroken. She was closest to Mum and was by far the best at handling her. I’d give it a go.

‘Look, Mum, I liked him, but he dumped me and I was really upset for a while, but I’m over it now. I don’t want to think about him because it brings back bad memories. I’m trying to move on, so please stop talking about him. It’s hard for me.’

‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, pet. I’m just thinking of the baby.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I know, Mum, but it’s my problem and I’ll deal with it when I’m ready. I just can’t go there right now, it’s too raw.’ I cringed as I said the words.

‘That’s understandable. I’ll say no more about it for the time being. But you’ll have to deal with it at some stage.’

I punched my fist in the air –
yes
! Good old Sophie. ‘Thanks, Mum, I’d really appreciate that. I have to go now. Talk soon.’

‘Don’t work too hard.’

I hung up and leant back in my chair. Thank God I had my mother off my back. I had enough to deal with in work without grief from her, too. My boss, Alex Sutton, had not taken the news of my pregnancy well. At first he’d thought I was joking and refused to believe me until I took off my jacket and showed him my bump.

‘But you always told me you didn’t want children. I don’t understand.’

‘It’s a long story,’ I lied. The last thing I wanted to admit to my boss was that I’d got so drunk I’d slept with a stranger and used no protection. ‘But I’ll be raising the baby by myself and I assure you it’s not going to affect my work. I’ve got my childcare well organized. I’ll be taking three weeks off in April to have the baby, but I’ll have my phone and laptop with me at all times and I’ll be back in the office before you’ve noticed I’m gone.’

Alex pushed his glasses back up his nose. ‘That’s what you all say and then the child is born and you go all cooey and want to run home early to play with it.’ He wagged a finger at me. ‘I stuck my neck out for you, Louise. It was because of my repeated recommendations that you were made senior partner so early. This was not what I expected at all.’

I swallowed hard. ‘Alex, it’s fine. I love my job and I’m very good at it. I know you pushed for me to be made partner and I won’t let you down. Look at Meredith. She hasn’t skipped a beat.’

‘Meredith married someone who is always there. Stewart gets home at five every day and if the child is sick,
he
takes the day off work to look after it. Are you planning on getting hitched?’

I shook my head.

‘Perhaps you should consider it.’ Alex’s face was like thunder.

‘Look, Alex, it’s just about being organized, which I am. I’ve got the crèche booked and a back-up childminder if the baby gets sick or I need to travel. I’ve worked my arse off for twenty years at this firm, and I have no intention of taking my foot off the pedal now. Trust me.’

Alex looked directly at me. ‘Don’t let me down, Louise. I’m counting on you for the Hollywell case. If I see any signs that you can’t keep up the pace, I’ll have to ask Dominic Rowe to step up. It’s too important to risk.’

I gritted my teeth. ‘I’m fully aware of how important the case is. After all, I’m the one who persuaded Simon Hollywell to hire this firm. I’ll manage the pace just fine.’

‘Make sure you do,’ he said, walking out.

I closed the door and sat down. My heart was pounding. I’d known Alex wasn’t going to be thrilled about my pregnancy, but I hadn’t expected him to threaten me with Hollywell. I owned that bloody case. I’d heard through the grapevine that the billion-dollar computer technology corporation Micropack was looking to buy the Hollywell Limited games company for $485 million. I had personally got in touch with Simon Hollywell and persuaded him to let Higgins, Cooper & Gray advise them on the sale. It was complicated because forty-nine per cent of Hollywell was owned by Games4us2play. They had shareholders located in four continents, making it a very complex transaction. I was working with multiple parties across the world to get a handle on the key commercial and legal issues. It was a huge case and we were billing hundreds of hours. I was determined to lead it to a successful conclusion and bask in the kudos that would follow. I was damned if that snake Dominic was going to get his hands on it.

Within an hour, the entire office knew I was with child and I had a stream of people coming in to congratulate me. They all seemed shocked, especially my secretary, Jasmine. She stood in my office, staring at me open-mouthed. ‘Are you really pregnant?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Wow.’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you happy?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it true you’re raising the baby on your own?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s not easy. Believe me, I know.’

I smiled stiffly at her. ‘I’ll manage.’

‘Well, if you need any advice, I’m bringing up three alone, so I can certainly give you tips.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Do you want to ask me anything now?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Can you get me the Hollywell file? I want to review it.’

She sighed and went to get it.

In the canteen at lunchtime, Dominic Rowe sidled up beside me. It was as if he could smell blood. I knew he would like nothing better than to get his hands on the Hollywell case while I stayed at home breast-feeding. He was currently a junior partner and was extremely ambitious. I didn’t like him and the feeling was definitely mutual. He spent most of his time ingratiating himself with Alex. They both played golf and bored me to death in meetings about birdies and eagles. Dominic was from a blue-blood family – his father was a member of the House of Lords and seemed to own half of Sussex. He had gone to Eton, then studied law at Cambridge. Although he was short, squat and not very attractive, he had very high self-esteem and the sense of entitlement that seems to go hand in hand with a privileged background.

He’d been a member of the incredibly exclusive Harrington House Golf Club since he was twelve. Alex had been trying to get into the club for years and it was through Dominic’s connections that he had finally got his membership. I’d felt sick when he told me. With this one well-planned manoeuvre, Dominic had Alex in his debt, which was a very powerful position to be in. Dominic was a spoilt, over-indulged, back-stabbing, two-faced fake, but he was clever – and excellent at manipulating people. I needed to watch my back.

‘Well, well, well! Aren’t you a dark horse, Ms Devlin?’ he said, smirking.

‘What do you mean?’ I eyeballed him.

‘Come on, it’s the talk of the office. Louise Devlin, career woman, is pregnant. So, who’s the father?’

‘None of your business, Dominic.’

‘You’re going to bring the baby up alone?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Very brave of you.’ He swept his auburn hair off his large forehead.

‘Thanks.’

‘With your workload, I imagine it will be very difficult.’

‘I’ll manage – I’m very resourceful.’ I took a sip of my water.

‘Alex is concerned about the Hollywell deal.’

I froze. ‘He has nothing to be concerned about. It’s completely under control.’

‘Well, don’t worry.’ Dominic patted my arm. ‘When it all gets too much, I’ll be here to pick up the slack.’

I stood up. ‘Thanks, Dominic, you’re very sweet. If I’m stuck for a babysitter, I’ll give you a shout.’

‘I didn’t –’

I cut across him: ‘Don’t take too long over lunch. We have work to do.’ I turned on my heels and left the canteen.

The patronizing little shit. He was already after my job. I’d have to work harder than ever to prove to Alex that this baby wasn’t going to make me less dynamic, sharp or focused. I pushed away the seed of doubt in my head. It was all about being organized and staying on top of things, both of which I was very good at.

That evening while I was at home finishing off some emails, my phone rang. It was Julie.

‘I need help,’ she begged. ‘I’ve just weighed myself. I’ve put on five more pounds. I have to lose it. I’m forty this year. I will not be forty and fat.’

‘You’re not fat.’

‘I’ve gone from a size twelve to a sixteen. I feel fat.’

‘It’s all just excess weight. If you focus, you’ll lose it quickly.’

‘Tell me how.’

‘I gave you a detailed plan last year. Do you still have it?’

She snorted. ‘Louise, I’m lucky if I can find myself among the piles of laundry, toys and general chaos.’

I suppressed a sigh. For the last four years Julie had called me every January, crying because she’d put on weight, and every time I’d sent her a weight-loss plan that she’d ignored. ‘OK, I’ll do another for you tonight and email it over. But if you really want to lose weight, you have to follow it properly. No cheating.’

‘I promise I’m going to do it this year. Do I have to eat vats of spinach and cabbage? LUKE, GET THAT OUT OF YOUR NOSE.’

I held the phone away from my ear. Conversations with Julie always included a lot of shouting at the boys. ‘No, you just have to stop eating rubbish. You need slow-releasing carbohydrates.’

‘Sophie’s always banging on about them.’

‘She’s thin,’ I pointed out.

‘She doesn’t eat anything, slow-releasing or not. Did you see her on Christmas Day? She ate three Brussels sprouts and a small slice of turkey.’

‘I agree she’s too thin, and there’s no point starving yourself because you’ll crack one day and end up bingeing.’

‘What type of exercise should I be doing? Everyone says Pilates is great for toning up.’

‘It is, but you need to mix it with cardio.’

‘I can’t afford to join a gym. CURTAINS ARE NOT ROPES – STOP SWINGING OUT OF THEM.’

Thank God I’m having a girl, I thought. ‘You don’t need to join a gym. I can send you a Pilates DVD and a cardio one. When Tom goes for his nap, do half an hour cardio and half an hour Pilates. You just need to get more organized so that you can focus on your weight loss.’

‘It’s hard to be organized with four kids.
If
Tom goes for a nap, I usually try to catch up with the laundry or tidy up, or else I pass out face down in my own bed because I’m so tired. GET OFF ME! I’M TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH MY SISTER. GO AND ANNOY YOUR DAD.’

‘Losing weight and keeping fit aren’t easy. It’s hard work and you need to be disciplined.’

‘You’re right. I’ll try, but I’m not like you and Sophie with your incredible self-control. I seem to be missing that gene.’

‘Well, be happy as you are and stop asking me to help you lose weight.’

‘But I’m not happy being this big. This time I really want to be thinner. I have to drop two dress sizes before my fortieth in June.’

Julie
was
different from me and Sophie. She’d never been driven like us. She’d drifted through school, popular, happy, laid-back. Then she’d gone to college and decided to study social science because it had so few lectures each week. She’d had lots of fun and scraped through her exams, having done the minimum amount of study. After college her best friend, Linda, had moved to London, so Julie tagged along, not having any idea what she was going to do. When she went to a recruitment agency to find work, she’d got on so well with the owner, Sylvie, that she’d been offered a job.

Julie didn’t even have to go looking for Harry – they’d met when he’d come to the agency looking for a new job. Julie was the agent assigned to him, and they’d hit it off immediately. When she’d wanted to get pregnant, she’d conceived the triplets straight away. That was Julie all over.

‘If you follow my diet and exercise plan, you’ll drop two dress sizes by June.’

‘Brilliant. You’re a star. I’ll definitely do it this time. Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling OK?’

‘Yeah, fine. I’ve had to stop doing ashtanga because my bump is bigger, but I’m swimming every morning and finding that really good. I’m hoping to keep it up all the way through.’

‘How long do you swim for?’

‘An hour.’

‘Bloody hell! Are you sure that’s safe? DO NOT THROW THAT CUP.’

‘I checked it out. Swimming is the best exercise to do when you’re pregnant. I feel great after it, totally energized.’

‘You’re an amazing woman. Did you tell your boss yet?’

‘Yes. Not a good reaction.’

‘Yikes.’

‘The vultures are circling, ready to pounce on my job if I screw up.’

‘You’ll be fine. You’ve never put a foot wrong in your life … with the obvious exception of the one-night stand that resulted in pregnancy.’ Julie giggled. ‘Is Alex still cute in that Alan Sugar kind of way – small, grey-haired and crinkly with a twinkle in his eye?’

Julie had met Alex once, years ago, when she lived in London, and through a haze of white wine had found him attractive.