The Secrets Sisters Keep: A heartwarming, funny and emotional novel (The Devlin Sisters Book 2) (10 page)

‘What are you going to do about Lew?’

‘Shag him senseless,’ she said, grinning at me.

‘Seriously.’

‘I am being serious. I’ve started so I’ll finish. I’ve been unfaithful, so I might as well go for it. He’s going to be working on the house for two or three more weeks. It’s a finite period and I intend to enjoy it.’

‘OK, but be careful and maybe you should call Greg for a chat, make contact.’

Marian crumpled her Coke can. ‘He’s due to ring tomorrow. I’ll be as nice as I can. To be honest, all the sex is making me much calmer. I needed it. I was really beginning to struggle.’

‘Maybe I could send Lew around to Sophie’s apartment to “fix something” when he’s finished working on your house. She needs some fun.’

Marian frowned. ‘Oi, hands off my Lew. I’m not sharing him with your gorgeous sister. When I decide to end it, I’ll give you his number. But for now, he’s all mine.’ Marian checked her watch. ‘Shoot! I have to go – I’ll call you.’ Marian took the earphones from Ben and packed them away in her bag. She hugged me goodbye and headed for home, her arm around her five-year-old’s shoulders. She bent down to hear something he was saying and laughed, kissing the top of his head. I hadn’t seen her so relaxed in a long time. The sex was clearly doing her good.

I wondered if Harry and I should try to spice things up. Maybe we should try some new positions. We had got very stale in the sex department after the kids were born. Then, just when we were beginning to get some sleep and have more regular sex, Harry had taken up golf. He was always exhausted when he came home after playing eighteen holes.

It used to be me falling asleep the minute my head hit the pillow but now it was Harry. Maybe I should go back to yoga and try harder. If I was bendier, I might be able to dazzle him with some new moves.

My conversation with Marian had made me think about the sex I’d had in my past. As I drove home, I amused myself remembering those carefree days in college when I had no responsibilities and had sex at all times of the day or night. I suddenly wondered what had happened to the two serious boyfriends I’d had before Harry. I’d dated Kieran for a year and Dan for two. I decided to look them up on Facebook.

When I got home, I poured myself a glass of wine, took out the iPad and went searching. Harry had set up a Facebook page for me but I never used it. I didn’t really understand how it worked. Besides, I had nothing interesting to put on it – married, four kids. That was my life … Dull.

I found Kieran. He was living in Australia with his wife and six kids. He had lost his hair and put on weight. He didn’t look good at all.

I searched for Dan Williams. A few matches came up, but I recognized his photo straight away. He hadn’t changed at all. I clicked onto his page. He was married with two kids and lived in New York. He looked great. Seeing his cheeky smile reminded me of all the great sex we’d had. Dan and I had never had a huge amount in common, but physically we were fantastic together. He was the opposite of me: ambitious, pushy and determined to succeed at all costs. That was why we’d broken up. He had gone to New York to find fame and fortune, and I had refused to go. I hated the idea of a big city full of shouty people pushing their way to the top. Besides, I knew Dan and I were never going to end up together so it was a good excuse to break up. I had gone to London where Louise was living and met Harry after only a few weeks.

I looked at Dan’s wife, good-looking, big white teeth, shiny hair, tanned skin. She was a trophy wife, exactly what Dan would have wanted. His daughters were pretty and there were lots of photos of them skiing, sailing and doing sporty things. Emboldened by the wine, I decided to send him a message: 
Hi Dan, a blast from your past here, Julie Devlin. How are you doing? I’m good. I’m married now with four boys and living in Dublin
.

I decided not to say I was a full-time mum – it sounded so lame. So I left it. I closed the iPad feeling a bit foolish. What was I doing? Memory Lane would be another cul-de-sac in a life now full of them.

I
sat
in front of a weeping Wendy and tried to keep my face impassive.

‘It’s just so hard. Freddy’s a terrible sleeper and I’m exhausted.’

‘I understand, but the mistake you made has cost this department fifty thousand euros,’ I reminded her.

‘I know, and I feel terrible about it, but I was sure I’d printed out the updated contracts. I’m sorry, Louise. I know you’re furious.’

Furious was an understatement. I was beside myself with rage. Her stupid mistake had cost us a lot of money, but it had also put a stain on my department’s record. Dublin was a village and I didn’t want James Kilbrian telling everyone about the incompetent job that Price Jackson and Louise Devlin had done for his Internet company. I prided myself on my skill and proficiency in the law, particularly in the area of securitization, and now Wendy had tarnished the department’s reputation.

I’d had my CEO, John Gillinan, in that morning, wondering what had happened. I’d explained that one of my juniors had slipped up but that I was handling it. He reminded me – as if he needed to – that James Kilbrian was an important client and we needed to keep him happy. I could have killed Wendy: she’d made me look bad in front of the CEO.

Wendy continued to sob. I could see she was struggling, but if you worked for a dynamic and ambitious law firm, you had to do whatever it took to keep up.

‘Wendy,’ I said in a neutral voice, ‘I can see that you’re completely overwhelmed with your life at the moment. And I think –’

She jumped up and clutched the edge of the desk. ‘Don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. I need this job. I have to support Freddy.’

I got up and walked around to her. I eased her back into her chair and handed her a glass of water. ‘I’m not going to fire you. You need to take a deep breath and listen to me. You cannot continue to do this job at this level. You’re going to have to take a step back.’

‘I can’t take a pay cut. I bought this stupid house with a garden for Freddy and the mortgage is killing me.’

I remained very calm. Wendy was hysterical, but I needed to make her see that she was going to have to take a demotion and a pay cut. I didn’t want her in my department making huge mistakes. ‘Why don’t you take a few days off and think about it? If you’re in a less stressful role, it might come with a slightly smaller salary, but there are other ways of making it work. You’ll be able to cut back on childcare costs because you won’t be working late all the time.’

Wendy twisted a tissue in her hands. ‘I have an au pair. I pay her a flat rate every week.’

‘All right. Maybe you can cut back on something else. There are always ways to make savings. I really think a less demanding role will help you to get a better work–life balance.’

‘But I’ve worked so hard to make junior partner. My parents were so disappointed when I got pregnant and my so-called partner left me and moved to Australia. I’m trying to prove to everyone that I can do it. I want my family to see that I’m not a failure – that I can be a successful lawyer and a good mum.’

This story was all too familiar to me. I tried to be understanding. ‘Look, Wendy, I had to make changes when Clara was born. All women do. You either hire a full-time nanny and work sixteen hours a day or find a way to make your job less all-consuming. I wanted to spend more time with Clara so I gave up an amazing job I had worked for twenty years to get, and I moved back to Dublin and set up this department. I still work long hours, but nothing like what I was doing in London. Every decision you make has consequences. And one thing is very clear. You can’t continue like this or you’ll have a nervous breakdown.’

‘But look at Sheryl Sandberg. She’s chief operating officer of Facebook and she has three kids.’

Oh, for goodness’ sake! I was so sick of hearing about Sheryl Sandberg, not to mention her stupid book 
Lean In
, which I hadn’t been able to finish because it annoyed me so much. ‘Sheryl Sandberg has a hands-on husband and a lot of staff who make it possible for her to do her job.’

‘What am I going to do?’ Wendy began to cry again.

Stop bloody crying and feeling sorry for yourself, I thought. ‘You need to go home, look at your budget and find a way to make your life work on a slightly reduced salary. We can put your partnership on hold for a year until you get Freddy settled. Then, when your home life is calmer, we’ll talk about reinstating you as a junior partner. How does that sound?’

‘It sounds like a nice way of saying I’m useless and my career is going backwards.’ Wendy’s voice shook.

I was beginning to lose patience. An email popped up on my computer. Oliver had just checked into the Four Seasons and wanted me to meet him for dinner and ‘dessert’. Yes! I needed some sex badly. I wrapped up the meeting by standing up and leading Wendy towards the door. ‘Well, Wendy, it’s been good to talk. Your career isn’t going backwards, it’s just being put on pause temporarily. Try to see this as an opportunity to re-evaluate your life and where you want to go in the firm.’ I opened the door of my office and gently nudged her out.

‘But I want to –’

‘Any other questions, you’ll need to talk to Hilary in HR.’

I closed the door and leant against it. Thank God that was over. I couldn’t stand victims. She had made the decision to have the baby; she had made the decision to apply for a job in a top law firm. Stop bloody crying about it and find a way to manage work with raising a child. Millions of women did it; single motherhood wasn’t unusual. She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and focus on getting her life together.

I went straight to my desk and rang Christelle to ask her to babysit that evening, but she couldn’t so I rang Gavin. He said he would, but he wanted to bring Shania because they were supposed to ‘hang’ together that evening. I wasn’t thrilled about Shania coming too – Clara took a while to be comfortable with new people – but all I could think about was hot sex with Oliver, so I agreed.

When I got home, I gave Clara her bath, got her into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth. Then I settled her on the couch with her bird books and went to get ready. I lathered my body in scented lotion, put on my new sexy red lace underwear and a fitted red dress that clung to all the right places and showed off my toned arms. I hummed as I did my makeup. I was looking forward to seeing Oliver. He was the only man in my life. A relationship was out of the question: between work and Clara I didn’t have time for dating and, from Sophie’s horror stories of the dating scene, I was glad not to.

All I wanted was a few nice meals, some decent wine, great company and sex. Oliver ticked all those boxes. He was good-looking, smart and amazing in bed. He spent all of his spare time cycling, so his body was tightly toned. We were very compatible. And the best part was that he was married, so there was no drama or fighting or silly romance. The arrangement suited us.

G
avin and Shania
arrived at seven. They were both dressed head to toe in Stars and Stripes. I ushered them in.

‘Wow,’ Shania said, looking around the lounge. ‘Your place is so tidy. You wouldn’t know there was a four-year-old living here.’

‘Clara’s inherited my tidy gene. I can’t stand mess.’

Gavin threw himself down in a chair. ‘Louise doesn’t do clutter. Everything has to have a place and a use, or it gets chucked out.’

‘God, I’m so the opposite. I, like, keep everything,’ Shania said. Then, looking at me, she added, ‘You look hot. You’ve got an awesome body for, like, an older woman. Very Courtney Cox.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

‘So, hot date?’ Gavin grinned.

‘Kind of.’ I wasn’t about to get into my arrangement with Oliver with my little brother. I knew he’d disapprove, like Julie. I’d never mentioned Oliver’s name in front of her since the night I’d told her about him and she’d given me a twenty-minute lecture on women like me destroying marriages. I’d pointed out that it was better for Oliver’s wife that he was being unfaithful with me because I’d never want anything more. I didn’t want an emotional connection. I wasn’t hurting anyone and Oliver was a happier man, probably a better husband even, because he was able to blow off steam with me. Julie said I could sugar-coat it any way I wanted, but I was still sleeping with a married man and that was wrong.

‘If Harry was sleeping with some woman in England, I wouldn’t care how little emotional involvement she wanted, I’d still be heartbroken. It’s immoral, so stop trying to justify it,’ Julie had shouted.

Sophie was more relaxed about it. I thought she should try to find a similar arrangement, but she said she wanted love. Sophie had always been a romantic at heart. I couldn’t remember her being on her own until she and Jack had split. She had always had men running after her, and it was hard for her now that things had changed so much. There weren’t queues of men looking to date a forty-two-year-old single mother.

But I thought it had been good for Sophie to be on her own. She needed to stand on her own two feet and realize she was capable of earning her own money and providing for Jess. She’d been so dependent on Jack. Their life had been so flash and fake. They had lurched from party to charity ball to holiday and back again. I always suspected Jack wasn’t as bright as everyone seemed to think he was. He had been adept at making money in the good times, but he had got cocky and made some incredibly risky decisions that had led to his ruin. He was a nice guy and a good dad to Jess and I was glad he was back on his feet, earning a good salary. It would take some of the pressure off Sophie.

But I was worried that Sophie might slip into her old ways. She was obsessed with looking younger. When she was with Jack, she was constantly having Botox and fillers and at times had overdone it. I understood that her whole life had been based around her looks, from her job as a model to dazzling Jack and marrying him, but it was time to let it go and move gracefully into her older years.

‘What time does Clara go to bed?’ Shania asked.

I looked at my watch. It was seven fifteen. ‘Seven thirty. She likes to look at the clock to make sure it’s exactly half seven, so you need to show her the time on one of the digital clocks.’

‘She’s so quirky, just like my little brother. He had all these rules and routines that my mum had to follow or he’d freak out.’

‘Did he grow out of it?’ Gavin asked.

‘Uhm … no, not really.’ Shania looked uncomfortable.

I nodded. ‘Highly intelligent children often have their quirks. Wait until you see this.’

I went over to Clara on the couch and whispered, ‘Will you stop reading for just two minutes while we show Uncle Gavin and Shania how clever you are at maths? Is that OK?’

She frowned, slowly looking up from her book. ‘OK, Mummy, but then I need to finish the book before bed.’

‘I know, pet. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time.’ Raising my voice, I said, ‘Clara, what is twelve plus forty-five?’

‘Fifty-seven,’ she answered almost immediately.

‘Fifteen plus thirty-eight?’

‘Fifty-three.’

‘Sixty-seven plus fourteen?’

She paused for just a few seconds. ‘Eighty-one.’

I beamed at her.

‘Dude, that’s incredible.’ Gavin came over to high-five her. ‘I was still trying to work out the first answer when you finished the last one.’ Looking up at me, he said, ‘Seriously, Louise, she’s like a little genius.’

‘I’m speechless over here,’ Shania said, applauding.

I felt so proud. ‘I think she’s going to be really clever.’

‘Like her mother,’ Gavin said. ‘Why couldn’t God have shared the brains around more evenly in our family? He gave you way more than the rest of us.’

‘Don’t give me that sob story. I was the only person in our family who studied all the time. While Julie was reading novels and chatting to her friends, Sophie was shopping and you were running around chasing a ball, I was inside with my head stuck in a school book.’

‘But he’s right, you do have to be born clever, and obviously you, like, totally ran with it, which is cool. But there’s no way, no matter how hard I studied, that I would ever have been super-bright.’ Shania sat on the floor crossing her long legs.

I glanced at my watch: seven twenty-six. I was going to be late. I grabbed my coat and crouched in front of Clara. ‘Sweetie, Mummy is going out, but I’ll be back soon. Uncle Gavin is going to put you to bed in exactly four minutes, OK?’

‘Is it seven twenty-six now, Mummy?’

‘Yes, pet.’

‘OK.’

‘Can I have a hug?’

She put her arms up and held me tightly.

I
was
in the taxi when my mobile rang. It was Gavin. I could hear Clara shrieking in the background. ‘Louise, she’s freaking out because it was seven thirty-one on the clock in her bedroom when I went to put her down.’

‘Jesus Christ, I told you to do it at exactly seven thirty.’ I looked at the clock in the taxi: it was seven thirty-four. Damn. Clara’s tantrums could go on for a while.

‘What do I do? She’s going mental here. I thought the triplets were hard to babysit!’

‘Get Shania to distract her by reading out lists of birds. Go into the kitchen and the bathroom and reset the clocks so they say seven thirty, then bring her in and show her. Unplug the clock in her bedroom and tell her the battery must have gone dead, which is why it said the wrong time. Keep reassuring her that it is seven thirty, then bring her to bed and let her list the non-passerine birds of Ireland before she goes to sleep.’

I could hear Shania listing birds as Clara continued to shriek. My stomach knotted. I knew it would take her a while to calm down. Why the hell couldn’t Gavin follow simple instructions? I’d never ask him to babysit again. Christelle was the only one I could trust to stick to the exact routine. ‘Call me in ten minutes. If she hasn’t calmed down, I’ll come back.’ I crossed my fingers that the clock trick would work. Otherwise it would be a very short date.