Authors: Sinéad Moriarty
J
ess ran
past me into her bedroom and slammed the door. I turned to Jack. ‘What happened?’
He shuffled about uncomfortably. ‘Pippa might have been a bit short with her.’
I frowned. ‘That’s the third day in a row she’s come home upset.’ I didn’t add that his stupid girlfriend needed to stop being a bitch to my daughter or I’d go over there and slap her.
Jack threw his hands into the air. ‘I know. Look, Sophie, I’m doing my best, but Pippa’s tired. You remember how it is with a newborn.’
‘Yes, I do. And I also remember I never snapped at anyone even though I was totally overwhelmed by it all.’
Jack sighed. ‘You were great. Pippa just needs a good night’s sleep. I’m going to do all the feeds tonight.’
‘Is she not breastfeeding?’ I asked.
‘No. She said she doesn’t want to because it ruins your boobs or something.’
I had breastfed Jess and my boobs had been ruined. But not for long, I thought.
‘Anyway, I said I’d give the baby his bottles so she can sleep through.’
Jack getting up at night to feed the baby! She really did have him wrapped around her little finger. He’d never once fed Jess a night bottle when I’d weaned her at four months.
‘Well, just tell her to go easy on Jess. And make sure you include Jess. I think she’s feeling left out. I’m going to check on her.’
Jack nodded. ‘OK, thanks. I’ll call her later.’
When I reached the door to Jess’s bedroom, I could hear sobbing. Jess rarely cried. Life had made her quite tough. She must really be hurting. I opened the door.
Jess was sprawled face down in the middle of her bed with her head in her pillow. I sat beside her and gently stroked her long fair hair. ‘Are you OK?’
She shook her head.
‘Jess, I’m sure Pippa didn’t mean to snap at you. All new mums are a bit grumpy. Dad said he’s going to do all the feeds tonight so Pippa can sleep. I’m sure she’ll be in better form tomorrow. Maybe you could pop in for a quick visit then.’
Jess flipped over, her face blotchy from crying. ‘I’m not going over there ever!’ she said.
‘Come on, Jess, it’s not that bad.’
‘Oh, really?’ she snapped. ‘You don’t know what she said to me.’
I was beginning to get worried. ‘What did she say?’
Jess’s lower lip wobbled as she spoke: ‘She said that she needed to focus on Robert and that I wasn’t to call over without checking it was OK with her first. She said not to call Dad, because he’d just say yes. She said I had to text her to make sure it was a good time. She said to stay away for a while so she could get her head together. She said she needed time to be alone with Dad and Robert as a family. When I coughed, she freaked out and told me to go. She said she didn’t want me coming in from school with germs and coughs because I’d make Robert sick.’
Jesus Christ, the stupid cow. How dare she speak to my daughter like that? I tried to speak in a calm voice: ‘That was unkind of Pippa. I’m sure she didn’t mean to upset you but she should be more careful with what she says. I’ll talk to Dad about it. But in the meantime maybe you should give her a little space. She’ll get back to normal soon. She needs time to get used to Robert. The first few months can be frightening for new mums. Don’t take it personally. Pippa’s just exhausted and emotional and over-protective.’
Jess blew her nose. ‘She was really cross, Mum. Her face was all red and angry and she was shouting at me.’
‘What did your dad say?’
‘He wasn’t there. He’d gone out to get her some special juice to help her lose weight. When he got back I was sitting outside the front door pretending to do my homework.’
‘Did you tell him what happened?’
‘No. He looked really tired and fed up. I didn’t want to make him angry. I knew he’d give out to Pippa and I don’t want them to fight about me.’
‘Oh, Jess! You poor old thing.’ I put my arms out and, for the first time in ages, Jess snuggled into me.
While I comforted my child, I smiled secretly. The selfish part of me was delighted that Pippa was showing her true colours. Jess was finally going to discover that Pippa wasn’t Miss Perfect, that Pippa wasn’t her ‘best friend’: Pippa wanted Jack all to herself and was not the wonderful human being Jess thought she was.
Mind you, I was going to call Jack later, tell him exactly what had happened and make sure he told Pippa never to speak to our child like that again.
‘Mum, can we make pancakes for dinner, just this once?’
Nothing was going to make me break this happy moment. ‘Of course we can, sweetie.’
We stood up and walked arm in arm towards the kitchen. I knew it wouldn’t last, that Pippa would be back in vogue soon, but for now it was bliss.
M
y breast-enhancement
appointment was for the Friday. Jess was due to stay with Jack and I really needed him to make sure that Pippa would behave. I didn’t want to worry about Jess while I was having an operation. I rang him on Thursday to confirm everything was all right. Jess hadn’t heard from him or Pippa since Monday and she was as upset as I was annoyed.
‘Sorry. Pippa’s been a bit tetchy, so I thought it best that Jess stay away,’ he said.
‘She’s upset, Jack, she feels really left out. Tell Pippa to get over herself.’
Jack laughed. ‘Yeah, right. The way she is at the moment, if I did that, I’d end up with a black eye.’
Grow some balls, I thought darkly. ‘Well, I need you to take Jess for the weekend as arranged. You cannot back out on me, Jack. I told you I’m going out of town for work,’ I lied.
‘I know, I know. I’ll sort it out.’
‘OK. And be extra nice to Jess.’ I could hear Pippa roaring, ‘
Jaaaaaack!
’ in the background. She had a fine pair of lungs on her for someone who was so exhausted.
‘Yeah, sure. I’ve got to go.’ Jack hung up, sounding hassled.
T
he next morning
I hugged Jess at the school gate. She wriggled out of my arms. ‘Mum, stop. All my friends are looking.’
‘It’s just a quick hug, I’m not making a show of you. I’ll see you on Sunday. If you have any problems and my mobile is switched off because I’m in a meeting or something, call Louise. OK?’ I’d told Louise I was going away for work and that Jess would call her if things with Pippa got bad.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Mum. You’ve told me a zillion times.’
‘Well, I hope you have a nice time with your dad. I told him to spoil you.’
‘Did you?’ Jess looked up at me.
I nodded. She gave me a smile that would have melted chocolate. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
I watched as she skipped off to greet her friends, looking happier than she had all week.
Q
uentin held
my hand as the nurse ran through some final details before I signed the consent form.
‘So, you understand all aspects of the surgery and agree to proceed with the operation?’
I smiled. ‘I’ve never been more ready in my life.’ I signed the form and handed back the pen.
‘How long will the procedure take?’ Quentin asked.
‘The operation lasts between one and two hours, but we’ll monitor Ms Devlin overnight. She’ll be able to go home tomorrow.’
As the nurse left us, Quentin squeezed my hand. ‘So, this time tomorrow, you’ll be a D cup, right?’
I grinned. ‘Yes, a lovely round perky D. No more saggy fried-egg boobs for me.’
‘How do they get the silicone in?’ he asked.
‘They insert it under the pectoral muscle. The incision is made in the fold of the skin under your breast, so the scar is hidden.’
Quentin raised his eyebrow. ‘Look who swallowed the manual.’
I laughed. ‘I’ve been researching this for a long time. I know everything there is to know. At first my new breasts will feel firm and swollen and they’ll be sitting up quite high on my chest, but as the swelling goes down, they’ll drop to a more natural position and I’ll have the best boobs in town.’
‘How long do they last?’
‘At least ten years, sometimes twenty.’
‘Are you nervous? It sounds painful.’
I shook my head. ‘Not even the tiniest bit. I’ve never been so sure I’m doing the right thing. I need this, Quentin. I’ve felt so bad about myself lately. I hate what age is doing to my body and I need to look my best if I have any hope of meeting someone who doesn’t have a bus pass.’
Half an hour later I was lying on the operating table, looking up at the anaesthetist, counting backwards. I drifted away, dreaming of myself in a flowing wedding dress with a handsome man by my side …
C
hristelle had
the decency to be really upset when she told me she was going back to Paris and leaving me with no childminder for Clara at the worst possible time.
I glared at her. ‘You can’t be serious,’ I snapped. ‘You can’t leave now. You know how much Clara depends on you, as do I. You can’t just bloody well dump this on me with no notice. You know what’s going on, how important it is for Clara to be surrounded by people she trusts. What am I going to do?’
She held up her hands. ‘Louise!’ she shouted over me. ‘Calm down. Of course I know that this is not good timing. I love Clara, too. I didn’t see that she had problems, and I’d never even heard of Asperger’s, but it makes no difference to me what labels they want to put on her. To me she will always be my Clarabelle. But I have to go! I have no choice. My mother needs me. She can’t manage with two broken legs.’
She had bloody well landed me in it. I didn’t care about her mother’s legs. All I cared about was Clara. ‘I’ll pay for a nurse to look after your mother. You can’t leave.’
‘Louise,’ Christelle said firmly, ‘my mother needs me. I’m going back to Paris.’
‘How long will you be gone?’
She gave me one of those infuriating French shrugs. ‘A month, maybe two.’
‘WHAT?’
‘Before your head spins off, I have already organized a replacement for me.’
‘That’s no bloody use. You know how long it takes Clara to get used to someone new.’ I felt as if I was going to have a heart attack. I couldn’t take any more stress.
Christelle smiled. What could she possibly find amusing about this? ‘My replacement knows Clara very well and she adores him.’
I frowned. ‘What?’
‘It’s Gavin,’ she said. ‘He’s resigned from Stars and Stripes. He’s not into retail any more, he says, so he’s totally free. He didn’t want to tell you and his other sisters about it because he knew you wouldn’t approve. But when he told me, I knew it was the answer. He said he’d love to look after Clara while I’m gone. So, you see, I’ve arranged everything so your life won’t be messed up.’
For once, I was very glad Gavin had no staying power when it came to jobs. He was perfect. Clara adored him and he totally understood her. Thank God. My knees buckled with relief and I had to put out a hand to steady myself. Clara was going to be fine. She wouldn’t freak out with this change. It wouldn’t affect her adversely. I was weak with relief.
I
was
in a meeting when my secretary burst in to tell me someone was on the phone and talking about an emergency. Thinking something had happened to Clara, I rushed out of the room and snatched up the receiver.
‘What’s wrong?’ I barked.
‘Louise?’ said a man’s voice I didn’t recognize.
‘Who’s that?’
‘It’s Quentin Gill. I work with Sophie.’ His voice was breaking. My heart began to thump.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘She’s – she’s very –’
‘Jesus, Quentin, spit it out,’ I snapped.
‘She’s very sick. The operation went wrong and she’s in intensive care.’
What was he talking about? What operation? ‘I don’t understand. She said she was at a work event.’
There was a pause on the line. ‘She lied. She was having her breasts enlarged and it’s all gone horribly wrong. They said she’s allergic to penicillin and she reacted really badly to the anaesthetic or something like that. I was so freaked out I couldn’t really understand what they were saying, but she’s in trouble, Louise.’
Oh, my God. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Where are you?’
‘In St Anthony’s Hospital.’
‘I’m on my way.’
I
n the taxi
I rang Julie. She started crying. Typical Julie. ‘Jesus, Julie, stop that and get down to the hospital now.’
‘I’m coming. Poor Sophie. I can’t believe she didn’t tell us.’
‘Of course she didn’t. She knew fine well we’d never have allowed her to go through with it. I can’t believe she’s so bloody stupid. A boob job? Christ, when will she ever grow up and stop obsessing about her looks?’ I was so angry and worried that I wanted to punch someone.
‘Louise, she’s lonely. She’s upset and miserable being on her own. She wants to meet someone and she’s really insecure about getting older. Sophie’s looks have always been her thing. Your brains are your thing. I haven’t got a thing. Well, maybe my fertility.’
‘Julie!’ I said sharply. ‘Stop rambling and get into the bloody car.’
I
rushed
through the hospital lobby and found the intensive-care unit. Quentin was pacing up and down, muttering to himself.
‘What the hell is going on?’ I demanded.
He looked awful. ‘I don’t know. They haven’t told me anything. There was a lot of shouting and rushing about. They told me to wait here for news.’
‘Why didn’t you stop her?’
He wrung his hands. ‘I tried to talk her out of it, but she was absolutely determined to do it.’
‘You should have called me. I would have stopped it.’
‘She made me swear not to breathe a word to anyone.’
‘Idiot!’
Quentin’s head snapped up. ‘Don’t come in here and shout at me. If you were a good sister, you’d have seen how unhappy she was and could have talked to her. Sophie didn’t feel she could talk to you about this because you just boss her around all the time.’
‘I do not!’ How dare this stupid man accuse me of bossing Sophie about? I didn’t boss her. I helped and guided her.
Before he could insult me any further, Julie charged in, her face smeared with tears. ‘Is she OK?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ I said impatiently. ‘I’m not waiting around here for news. I’m going to find someone.’ I stormed away and grabbed a passing nurse. ‘I need information on Sophie Devlin.’
‘Are you family?’ she asked.
‘I’m her sister.’
‘I’ll get the surgeon to come and talk to you as soon as she’s free.’
‘I need information now!’
She eyeballed me. ‘I understand you’re worried. I’ll do my very best to find out how your sister is. Please go to the waiting room and I’ll be back to you as soon as possible.’
‘Please hurry. We’re very concerned,’ I said, my voice cracking.
She patted my arm. ‘I will.’
I composed myself before I went back to Julie and Quentin, who were hugging and crying.
‘Thank God you were with her. At least she had a good friend by her side,’ Julie said.
‘I told her it was a bad idea,’ Quentin wailed. ‘I told her she was beautiful as she is.’
‘That’s the thing with Sophie,’ Julie sobbed. ‘She has no idea how gorgeous she is. It’s terrible, she has no confidence. Jack meeting Pippa was the final straw.’
Quentin nodded. ‘And when Andrew turned out to be a creep, her ego took another battering. I think that was when she decided to get her breasts done.’
‘Do you think she’ll be OK?’ Julie asked me, her chin quivering.
‘Yes. If it was a reaction to penicillin, they can fix it. She’ll be fine.’ I tried to sound confident but really I had no idea. While Julie and Quentin talked, I googled ‘reaction to penicillin in anaesthesia’. Christ! It said that a patient could go into full cardiac arrest if they failed to respond to initial treatment.
I turned to Quentin. ‘Did they react immediately to her allergy?’
‘Yes – well, I think so. It all happened very quickly.’
‘Should we call Mum?’ Julie asked.
I shook my head. ‘Not yet. Let’s not panic until we know more.’ I tried to sound calm. I felt as if my heart was going to burst through my jacket. Was Sophie going to die? Was my little sister’s life going to end over a stupid bloody boob job?
I couldn’t stand it. I went back out to see if I could find a doctor. Julie followed me. ‘What are we going to do if she dies, Louise?’
‘She won’t.’
‘But what if she does? I’ll take Jess.’
‘Jack will take Jess.’
Julie started crying again. ‘Sophie’d hate Jess to be brought up by Pippa. We’ll have to share custody. One of us could take her every second weekend, me, you, Mum and Dad. That way we could talk to Jess about Sophie all the time and show her photos and stuff. You know, keep … her, uh – memory
aliiiiive
.’ Julie was bawling.
‘Stop it this minute, Julie! She’s not dead. She’s not going to die. Stop talking like that. Why did she have to be so stupid?’
‘She’s not stupid, she’s insecure!’ Julie shouted. ‘You don’t know what that feels like because you’ve always been incredibly confident. But for us mere mortals insecurity is a fact of life. Sophie’s insecure about ageing and her looks. I’m insecure about my intellect, my marriage, motherhood and pretty much everything.’
My worry turned into rage. ‘Going under the knife, putting your life at risk and possibly leaving your daughter motherless is not a very intelligent way to deal with insecurity!’ I bellowed. ‘What’s wrong with a push-up bra?’
‘You just don’t get it. She’s miserable. She’s trying to fix her life. She’s trying to make it better.’
‘With stupid fake boobs?’ I roared.
‘YES!’ Julie screamed. ‘For Sophie, that’s a solution. It might not be your choice or mine, but it’s hers.’
‘It could have killed her!’
‘I’m aware of that!’
‘Well, stop defending her decision,’ I yelled.
‘And you can stop damning her.’ Julie’s face was bright red.
‘How do you think Jess is going to react if her mother dies having a boob job? What kind of example is she setting for her daughter? What kind of life lesson is that?’ I was quivering with rage. How could Sophie have risked her life for something so ridiculous?
A nurse came over to us. ‘Ladies, please, keep it down. We have sick patients.’
Julie shuffled to the corner and sank into a chair beside a vending machine. ‘I don’t know. But you have to stop judging everyone, Louise. We can’t all live up to your standards.’
I sat down beside her. ‘What standards? I’m just about getting through the day at the moment. I’m so sick with worry about Clara, I can barely focus in work.’
‘Louise, she’ll be OK – you’re a brilliant mother.’
‘Am I?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you think a brilliant mother would have spotted it earlier and got help quicker?’ My voice shook.
Julie clasped my hand. ‘You’re a wonderful mother. But none of us is perfect – we’re all just doing our best.’
‘I wish Sophie had talked to me.’
Julie smiled. ‘She knew you’d go mad if she did. Sophie didn’t tell us because she knew we’d judge her.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not about judging, it’s about making good decisions.’
‘But for Sophie this
was
a good decision. She thought it would help her find a man and therefore happiness. Sophie’s a romantic – she always has been. She loved being married, she loves being with a man. Being alone terrifies her. We have to understand that. It’s the fear of being on her own that drove her to do this.’
‘There are other ways to find a man than by mutilating your body.’
‘I think we should call Mum and Dad. If she doesn’t make it, they’ll never forgive us.’ Julie began to sob again.
‘Not yet.’ I got up, determined to find the surgeon. As I marched down the corridor and turned the corner, I walked smack into a woman in scrubs.
‘Are you a relative of Sophie Devlin?’ she asked.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. She looked very serious. It must be bad news.
‘I’m her sister. Now just tell me,’ I whispered. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
She nodded. ‘We believe so. Reactions like this are extremely rare. Everyone acted quickly and thankfully your sister responded well, but we’ll need to monitor her carefully in the ICU for the next twenty-four hours. However, she is out of serious danger. Her surgery has had to be deferred to a later date.’
My legs buckled and I fell to the floor. Thank God, she was going to be OK. Lovely Sophie, fragile, stupid, foolish, beautiful Sophie was going to be fine.
The surgeon helped me up.
‘I have to tell my sister.’ I ran back to Julie and Quentin. ‘Sophie’s going to be OK!’