Me and My Sisters (38 page)

‘Now you just need to find out where he’s staying and we’ll give him the surprise of his life,’ Sophie said.

So, I was finally going to Paris, but instead of a romantic trip with my husband for my fortieth birthday, I was going to catch him and his mistress together and prove to myself beyond doubt that my marriage was over.

When I got home, Harry was in bed. I logged on to my computer and went into
mumskeepingsane.com
. There had been a huge response to my last posting, when Harry had forgotten my birthday and I’d said I felt invisible. At least three hundred women had written about it. Most of them said they felt invisible too, that since they’d had children they’d been relegated to second place. Their husbands were more interested in the kids or their work or even the football on TV than their wives. One woman wrote that her husband hadn’t asked her how she was in five years. They were all shocked that my sisters had forgotten my birthday too. They said they were selfish witches and that I was unlucky to have such rotten siblings. They all wanted to know what had happened after the birthday fiasco and how my life was, these days.

Threescompany:

Hi, everyone,

Sorry it’s been so long since my last message. Things have actually, believe it or not, got worse. Yes, I’d thought spending my fortieth birthday locked in the bathroom crying my eyes out was an all-time low, but it turns out that it wasn’t such a bad day after all … I now know that my husband forgot my birthday because he is having an affair with a French woman called Christelle.

The so-called company project he was working on, that was making him so grumpy and distracted, is actually a French whore and he is planning to leave me for her. I found out today that he is going to Paris to meet her, and after that he’s planning to break the news to me. He’s going to leave me with our four sons and run off to Paris to this slut.

My sisters can’t believe it. By the way, they were horrible to forget my birthday but I have to say they have been brilliant about this crisis. And they have both had awful things happen to them. Their perfect lives have been turned upside-down lately. They are dealing with a lot of problems and yet they are being very supportive of me. We’ve actually got really close, helping each other out. My older sister thinks we should go to Paris to confront my husband and his mistress. But I’m scared. I know it’s weak and pathetic but I don’t want him to leave me. I can’t raise the boys alone. It’s too hard. It’s too much for one person. I’m barely managing to get through the day with a husband to help me. I’ll definitely go off the deep end on my own.

Mind you, I think I’ve gone a bit mad already. I cut my hair off this morning. Thankfully my neighbour arrived in before I had chopped it all off and she managed to make a short bob out of it. I never used to understand people who self-harmed. Why on earth would you want to cut yourself? But I get it now. Honestly, I want to cut my arm and feel physical pain, so the mental anguish will go away for a while. I want to numb myself. I want to be someone else. I want to be living someone else’s life. This wasn’t my plan. Being a single mother of four boys was not my childhood dream. I’m not high-maintenance. I’m not looking for Ferraris and mansions. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. I don’t mind having to budget, I don’t mind not having childcare, but I do mind not having a husband. I do mind my kids not seeing their dad because he’s shacked up with some French floozy.

I keep thinking, Is it my fault? Did I push him away? If I’m being honest I don’t make much of an effort any more about how I look. I just wear jeans and sweatshirts because I’m with the boys all day and I always end up covered with yoghurt or banana or mud. I don’t bother wearing makeup unless we’re going out at night – what’s the point? My underwear is old and shapeless and I’ve put on weight. Although I’ve lost over a stone since this all happened.

So maybe it is my fault. If I looked better, dressed better, put on some makeup and some decent underwear maybe my husband wouldn’t have looked elsewhere. I also have to be honest and admit that I often swat him away when he wants sex. Most of the time I’m just too tired. And, besides, I don’t feel sexy, I don’t feel attractive. I know I don’t look good, I know I’ve lost my mojo. I used to be curvy and sexy and cute-looking – shiny curly hair and big brown eyes – but since the triplets I’ve let myself go. It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t decide to do it. It kind of crept up on me. If you keep wearing nice tops that get ruined with carrot stains and snot, you realize there’s no point. If you wear thongs that ride up your bum when you’re pushing swings and making sandcastles, you stop wearing them and opt for comfy pants. What’s the point in putting on makeup when your face inevitably ends up with dribble all over it?

And, yes, I know there are mothers out there who look immaculate in the park. Women who do that daytime glamour thing so well. I admire them and envy them … but do they have triplets? Do they have four hyper sons? Maybe they do and they’re just smarter than me because they know how to keep their husbands happy. My mother is constantly telling me to lose weight and smarten myself up. I used to think it was so old-fashioned – put on some lipstick before your husband comes home – but maybe she’s right.

I just keep thinking that, despite me looking like crap, we were happy. You know, we laughed a lot. We may not have been having hot sex every week, but we held hands and hugged. We were tactile. We had fun together in the middle of the chaos. We were in it together. A team, a partnership, a couple, parents, husband and wife, best friends, soul-mates …

How can he walk away from that? How can he leave it all behind? How can he abandon us? We’re his family! Don’t we count any more? Doesn’t he love us any more? What happened? Where did it all go wrong? What did I do? What should I do? What can I do? Help!

35

Louise

Harry – a cheat? I didn’t think he had it in him. He just wasn’t the type. From the day he met Julie he’d been besotted with her. They used to come around to my apartment when they first started dating in London and he would just stare at her adoringly and laugh loudly every time she said anything remotely funny. He still looked at her that way. If Harry could cheat on Julie, there was no hope for anyone.

Then again, at the moment everyone was behaving out of character. Look at Sophie getting a job and managing to live on 1,600 euros a month. I was really impressed with her. I told her not to pay me rent until she started working on commission and could afford it, but she insisted. She said it made her feel better, less like a leech and a failure. She hadn’t fallen apart, as I would have imagined, she had been resourceful and tenacious. I was proud of her.

She had called me to discuss Julie. ‘It’s terrible, Louise – she’s in such a state. The poor thing is terrified. I don’t blame her – imagine having to raise those boys alone. I know you’re doing it with Clara, but four boys is a lot to deal with for a single mum.’

‘She sounded devastated. I just keep thinking – Harry?’

‘The least likely person.’

‘He’s so solid and reliable.’

‘Well, they say it’s often the quiet ones.’ Sophie sighed.

‘But I can’t even see him chatting up a Frenchwoman.’

‘Me neither. But the evidence is there. I mean, she’s not imagining it.’

‘Maybe he just needed a blow-out because he was feeling weighed down with responsibility.’

‘To hell with him. He has four healthy kids and a great wife. He doesn’t have any excuse to be poking it elsewhere,’ Sophie barked. Clearly the topic of husbands letting their wives down was a touchy one.

‘You’re right, he is lucky. Julie’s great.’

‘She’s a saint. She’s with those kids twenty-four seven with no help, no time out and no cash. Her house is trashed, her car is falling apart and she never complains. When his salary was cut she just got on with it. The only thing I think she did do wrong was she let herself go a bit after the kids were born and her self-esteem plummeted.’

‘I agree with you, actually. Her self-confidence was down because she didn’t look good. Although, in fairness to her, she tried. She started a diet every year, but it never lasted more than four days.’

‘She was never very disciplined,’ Sophie laughed, ‘but I envy her relaxed attitude to food. I’ve spent my whole life starving myself. I’ve been hungry since I was eighteen. First of all I did it for modelling and then for Jack. It’s miserable to be hungry all the time.’

‘Well, I’ve been overly disciplined about work. For the last twenty years my career has defined who I am. Now I’m a mother I’ve discovered there
is
more to life and that you can really enjoy simple things, like giving Clara a bath. I still run into work every morning, but now sometimes I actually want to leave early to spend time with her.’

‘My God, Louise, you almost sound maternal.’ Sophie giggled.

‘Don’t tell anyone. Now, back to Julie. I’m going to book the tickets for Paris. She can’t live in denial. She needs to face the truth and deal with it. If he’s going to leave her, she has to accept it and screw him for every penny he has, which won’t be a lot, but we’ll all be here to look out for her and support her.’

‘Poor Julie – it’s such a shock when your husband lets you down. I feel so sorry for her.’

‘Look how well you’ve coped,’ I reminded her. ‘You’ve been so strong.’

‘Believe me, I still have my bad days, but it was an incredible help having you guys there for me. And Gavin’s been great, too. He’s really helped out with Jess. I think he’s finally growing up.’

‘About bloody time. OK, I’ve got to go. Clara needs her bottle.’

‘Careful, Louise, someone might mistake you for a mother some day.’

I laughed and hung up.

Work was a nightmare at the moment. Dominic was unbearably smug now that he was Gordon Hanks’s ‘chosen one’. While he swanned off to New York to represent Gordon’s new acquisition, I was left to look after all of his files as well as my own. Alex had been cool with me since the oversight with the purchase price, so I had been working twice as hard to prove myself yet again. I was sick of always having to prove myself. I was fed-up competing with men who had wives to make their lives seamless while I had to juggle everything alone. I’d had enough of everyone watching me to see if having a baby would make me trip up, mess up, be unable to cope. And the worst of it was, I’d made that bloody mistake and given them a reason to question my commitment and ability to do my job properly.

After twenty years of giving a hundred per cent at all times, of being totally loyal to the firm, I had finally messed up and it felt awful. I was furious and disappointed with myself. Dominic called daily from New York to check up on his files. It was his way of rubbing salt into my wound and it succeeded: he was really getting to me. The phone rang at exactly one o’clock every day, which was eight o’clock in New York.

I looked at my watch. Here we go …

‘Hi, Louise, it’s Dominic.’

‘Hello.’

‘So, how are things going? Are you still managing to cope with all the work Alex has landed you with?’

‘Believe it or not, Dominic, your files aren’t really that complex. I’m coping just fine.’

‘I don’t know – you sound very tired. Is the baby up again?’

‘I’m not tired at all. It must be the phone line.’

‘Did you call the lawyers about clause eight of the Hilton-Paltery merger?’

‘Yes, Dominic. It’s been sorted out.’

‘Did you check the amendments on screen or did you actually print them out this time?’

I gripped my desk and forced myself not to get angry. ‘The papers have been thoroughly checked.’

‘Yes, well, I’d like to see for myself. We don’t want another potentially disastrous oversight on our hands, now, do we?’

I knew if I didn’t hang up, I’d blow a fuse. ‘I’ll forward them to you now. Look, I have to go, I’m busy.’

‘Me too. I need to finish up early today. Gordon is taking me for dinner with his family to celebrate his daughter’s eighteenth birthday. We’re going to Per Se, the three-star Michelin restaurant in Columbus Circle. He’s booked the private dining room. I believe we’re having the tasting menu.’

I had been to Per Se. It was a fantastic restaurant. I couldn’t believe Dominic had been invited to a family celebration. The weasel had obviously really wound his way into Gordon’s affections. ‘Well, as I said, I have to go.’

‘I’ll send Gordon your best.’

I slammed down the phone and resisted the urge to throw it across my office.

The next day I ate lunch at my desk. I was waiting for my daily call from Dominic, but it never came. He was obviously sleeping off a hangover from all the fine wine he’d been drinking with the Hanks family last night, I thought glumly.

My office door opened and Meredith’s head popped around. She was wearing a perfectly tailored red suit and looked fantastic. I was glad I’d worn my grey wool dress with the cap sleeves: it was really smart and I knew I looked good in it. I didn’t want Meredith thinking I was letting the side down.

‘You got a sec?’ she asked.

‘Sure, come in.’ I hadn’t seen her since my screw-up. She’d been away in Edinburgh, working, but had heard about it – everyone in the office was talking about it – and had sent me a supportive email saying,
Don’t let the bastards get you down. It was a mistake. We all make them. You fixed it. Move on.

She sat down opposite me, crossed her legs and grinned. ‘I thought you might be interested in some news I have regarding your colleague, Dominic.’

That got my attention. ‘What is it?’

‘You know that my secretary, Shirley, and Alex’s are cousins?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, Shirley just came in and told me that the shit has hit the fan in New York.’

‘Go on.’ I sat up straight in my chair. This sounded good.

‘Our friend Dominic, a.k.a. the Rat, was out with Gordon Hanks and his family last night.’

‘He told me it was the daughter’s eighteenth birthday and he was the guest of honour.’

Meredith snorted. ‘According to my sources, it seems that old Dominic had a little too much red wine. After dinner Hanks and his wife went home, while the birthday girl – Abbey – went to meet up with some friends in a nightclub. Dominic, ever the gentleman, said he’d escort her and make sure she was OK. Hanks woke up this morning to find his daughter missing. She never made it home. He freaked and started calling her friends only to discover that she had gone back to Dominic’s hotel for a “nightcap”.’

‘
No!
’

‘Yes! Dominic shagged Hanks’s only child, his pride and glory.’

I whooped with glee. This was fantastic. ‘What did Hanks do?’

‘He went to the hotel, shouted and beat on the door until Dominic opened up and then he punched him right in the nose. You’ll be very sorry to hear it’s broken.’

‘
No!
’ I was loving every second of this.

Meredith laughed. ‘Yes! And when Alex found out an hour ago, he called Dominic and shouted at him for twenty minutes, calling him every name in the book. His secretary said she’d never seen him so angry.’

‘Is it terrible that I’m absolutely thrilled to hear this?’

‘Hell, no. I barely know Dominic, but I can see he’s a back-stabbing snake. I’m delighted he’s got his comeuppance.’

‘What an idiot.’

‘These cocky, over-confident guys with their blue-blood background and sense of entitlement always mess up in the end,’ Meredith assured me.

‘And, boy, did he do it in style!’ I laughed. ‘I almost feel sorry for him.’

‘But not quite.’ She grinned. ‘Anyway, how are you getting on – apart from Dominic, who will no longer be a problem?’

‘Better, thanks. At least Clara’s sleeping now and being much easier. But the mistake I made with the purchase price really threw me. What if it had been something I hadn’t been able to resolve? I pride myself on never missing anything, never taking short cuts, being thorough. But Clara was sick and I was running on empty.’

‘Louise, you have to cut yourself some slack. You’re doing fantastically well. No man would be able to juggle being a single dad, getting no sleep and working as a senior partner. We women are too hard on ourselves. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt since having Hermione, it’s that I can’t control everything. I’m a control freak by nature – I’ve had to be to get where I am – so that has been a very difficult thing to accept. There are nights when she’s up crying for hours. The next day I’m exhausted and have to be extra careful with whatever I’m doing. You have to learn to work around it, not fight against it. And I have a husband who shares getting up at night. It’s so much harder for you. I think you’re doing a marvellous job, so pat yourself on the back and be proud of your achievements.’

‘Thanks, Meredith. That really does mean a lot. I’ve been feeling very unsure of myself lately, which is a completely alien emotion for me. I’ve always known exactly where I was going and what I was going to achieve next. I had yearly goals that I never failed to meet, and now sometimes it’s just about all I can do to get through the day. I’m finding it hard to let go of my old life and embrace this new one. Having Clara has brought unpredictability and change into my life and it frightens me at times. I keep trying to get a handle on it and failing. I feel as if I’m being a bad mother because I spend very little time with her during the week, and I’m not doing my job as well as I’d like to.’

Meredith uncrossed her legs and stood up. ‘I’m months ahead of you on the baby front and my best advice to you is not to let yourself feel guilty. It’ll eat you up. Remind yourself every day that you’re doing the best you can. I firmly believe that our daughters will appreciate the fact that we didn’t give up careers we loved to stay at home. They’re going to admire us, not blame us. So no more guilt, OK?’

‘OK. Thanks for the advice, and the glorious gossip – it’s made my day, week and year!’

‘Any time.’ She grinned and left my office.

I sat down and spent a wonderful ten minutes picturing Dominic with a broken nose.

Just before I went home that night, Alex came to see me. He looked tired, distracted and cross. ‘Dominic will be coming home early from New York. There has been a bit of a set-to, which I’d like to keep under wraps as it is of a personal nature. Suffice it to say that Dominic behaved appallingly and let me down very badly. You can hand his files back to him tomorrow. Thank you for keeping an eye on them. You’ve been very magnanimous about it. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight, Alex,’ I said, forcing myself not to cheer.

I got home at seven that night, which was the earliest I’d been in weeks. Clara was in her Babygro, sitting on Agnes’s knee. When she saw me, she smiled. I rushed over to pick her up. She nuzzled her head into my neck and I inhaled her scent – talcum powder and milk. I closed my eyes. All of the day’s stresses left me. There was just Clara. I held her tight.

‘Baby loves Mummy. Mummy loves baby,’ Agnes said, walking towards the door, smiling. ‘This very good. You looking at baby now. You seeing baby now.’

‘I always looked at her – don’t be silly.’

‘But you not seeing her.’ Agnes wagged a finger at me. ‘Now you understanding what baby means. Now you understanding. I see in your face. I go now.’

I sat down and held Clara on my knee, facing me. I stared into her clear blue eyes. She was beautiful. She was perfect. I smiled at her and she waved her little hands about and grinned. A small flash of white caught my eye. I looked more closely. It was a tooth! An actual tooth! I turned to tell Agnes, but she was gone. I went to call Julie, but realized that my baby’s tooth wouldn’t be very important to her right now. I considered calling Sophie, then decided not to: she was dealing with a lot of stress. A tooth was not a big deal … but it was to me. I called Mum instead.

‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ she enthused. ‘Sure she’s a little dote. It was so nice to have a good go of her when she was home. She’s so placid. You’ve got a gem there.’