Authors: Sinead Moriarty
25
Julie
Harry had been even more secretive and jumpy lately, but now I knew why. My birthday was only a week away and I thought he must be organizing a surprise dinner. Seeing as we couldn’t afford to go to Paris, he’d had to arrange something local. I hoped he’d booked Pico’s – it was my favourite restaurant, a little family-run Italian bistro on the sea front and the food was simple but gorgeous. It wasn’t glamorous enough for Sophie and Jack, but I loved it and it was my birthday so I got to choose.
I hadn’t heard from Sophie in nearly two weeks. I’d rung her to ask her to help me find a dress for my birthday night, but she’d never called back, which was unlike her. She always returned calls and, besides, she
loved
shopping and I knew she’d find me something perfect to wear – she had a really good eye. Mum said she’d spoken to her a few days ago and she’d sounded awful, really snuffly and miserable. Apparently she had some horrible flu that was highly infectious so she was staying away from everyone. I hoped she’d better by Friday for my surprise party.
I didn’t think Louise would make it back from London. Clara seemed to be getting worse. I could barely hear my sister on the phone the other day because the baby was howling so loudly. I felt sorry for Louise. It was the first time in my life that I’d heard her sound overwhelmed. To be honest she’d sounded like I do most of the time. I’d tried to give her advice but she’d kept shouting, ‘I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work,’ every time I suggested something. She was hoping Clara would grow out of it soon. So was I – Louise had sounded really strung out.
Gavin wouldn’t be coming home for my birthday because he had no money and was still living in his tented community with his hairy smelly friends and was still madly in love with Acorn.
I had actually been dreading my birthday. What was so great about turning forty when you were fatter than you wanted to be, poorer than you wanted to be, wrinklier than you wanted to be and a stay-at-home mum who never achieved anything despite running around in circles all day every day? But now that the day was so close, I was excited about it. I’d decided to embrace it. I loved parties and it would be nice to dress up and go out and drink lots of wine and get presents.
I’d hinted to my family that I wanted a voucher for the House of Fraser, which was where I ended up buying my dress for Friday night. I’d asked Mum to come shopping with me as Sophie was sick and I knew that at least she’d be honest …
‘No, Julie, it makes you look huge,’ she said, as I squeezed myself into a plunging red dress. ‘Besides, you’re forty, not twenty, and it’s far too revealing.’
I peeled it off and tried on the seventh dress. It was pink. ‘Off,’ she said waving her arm at me. ‘Why in God’s name would you think a pink satin dress would be flattering? You look like a big flamingo.’
‘Less of the “big”, thank you.’ I wrenched the dress over my head.
‘Try this on.’ Mum handed me a plain black dress that looked really dull and old-fashioned.
‘I’m not seventy,’ I reminded her.
‘Just put it on,’ she said. ‘It’s very chic.’
I zipped it up and turned to look at myself in the mirror.
‘I told you. It’s lovely.’ Mum smiled.
It was fine. It was black, it was respectable – it was boring.
‘It’s too conservative.’ I craned my neck to look at my back in the mirror.
‘Conservative is a good thing. You’re not a young one going to a disco, Julie. You’re a forty-year-old mother of four who needs a well-tailored dress to flatter your shape. It makes you look much slimmer than you are.’
‘I want something fun and sexy. This is frumpy.’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s stylish and simple.’
‘Mum, I want Harry to look at me and say, “Wow.” He’s going to look at me in this and ask me if I’m off to a nuns’ convention.’
Mum shook her head. ‘I don’t know why I bother. You never listen to me anyway. You and Louise always ignore my advice and Gavin just switches off as men do when women talk to them. Sophie is the only one who ever listens to me.’
‘I do listen to you. You’re the one who isn’t listening. I’m going to be forty. I’m not thrilled about it. I feel a hundred and ninety so I want a dress that gives me a lift, makes me feel younger than I am, thinner than I am and sexier than I am.’
‘Julie, I’ll be sixty-five next year. Forty is young. Enjoy it. Look, why don’t we ask the shop assistant for help?’ Mum suggested. ‘She knows all the dresses in here and should be able to find a nice one.’
‘Great idea.’
It turned out to be a brilliant idea. The girl brought in three dresses, all of which were exactly what I was looking for. They covered up my lumpy bits (which was most of my body) and flattered my good bits – which were my legs from the knee down and my cleavage. Even Mum said they were nice.
‘But I think orange is a common colour for anyone over twenty-five,’ she commented. ‘The green dress is too strong – it’s draining. You should go for the navy one.’
She was right: the green
was
too strong. Although I loved the brightness of the colour, it made me look washed out. The navy was lovely and not too conservative. It had a nice low – but not plunging – neckline and the hem fell just to my knees. It had a big sparkly waistband made up of tiny silver beads that made me seem much slimmer than I was and gave the dress a bit of an edge.
‘You’re right. This is the one.’ I twirled happily in it. ‘I can’t wait for Friday now.’
‘What are you planning?’ Mum asked.
I smiled at her. ‘I don’t know yet.’
‘Well, I’m sure Harry will take you somewhere nice,’ she said, not letting on about the surprise dinner.
Mum bought me the dress as a present, which was really kind as it was more expensive than I could afford.
‘Thanks, Mum, that’s really generous.’
‘I’m only delighted to treat you, pet. I know you and Harry have had a difficult year financially. I remember in the eighties when your father’s business suffered with the recession and we had to tighten our belts – it’s not easy with four children to educate and feed and look after.’
‘I didn’t mind the first salary cut so much – I was kind of expecting it – but the second one has been difficult. We’ve cut back on just about everything. Harry’s very uptight about it. I hope things improve next year,’ I confided.
‘Well, he’s lucky to have his job. Lots of people have been made redundant,’ Mum pointed out.
‘I know. I see a lot more dads collecting their kids from school now.’
‘It’s tough out there. It amazes me how Jack has continued to make so much money during the recession. He certainly has the Midas touch. They’ve a fantastic life.’
‘They sure do. It’d be great not to have to worry about money at all. Sophie never looks at the price tag on anything. She just chooses what she likes and, regardless of how expensive it is, she buys it.’
‘Well, she always looks a million dollars, so it’s money well spent. You know, successful men like Jack want their wives to look their best. He’s very handsome so he’d have a lot of women eyeing him up. Sophie needs to maintain her looks and keep Jack close to her. Being married to a wealthy man has its own challenges.’
‘I suppose you’re right. I never thought of it that way,’ I admitted. ‘At least I don’t have to worry about women trying to run off with Harry. He wouldn’t be able to afford to buy them a glass of wine, never mind pay for a hotel room.’
We roared laughing.
‘Harry’s a good man and a great father. You did very well,’ Mum assured me. ‘Have you spoken to Sophie recently? She still sounds awful, very sick altogether. I wanted to call over to her, but she refused to see me. She said the type of flu she has is highly contagious. Jack seems to be at home helping out, which is nice.’
‘I’ve just been on text to her and she did seem down. Hopefully she’ll feel better this week.’
‘And wait till I tell you about Louise!’ Mum said. ‘She rang me the other day and asked for my
advice
. I nearly fell off my chair. Louise asking
me
for advice! She asked if any of you had had reflux or colic as babies and did I know how to cure it. She sounded very fed-up.’
‘Poor Clara seems to have a bad dose.’
‘Well, I told her she’d had it herself when she was a baby.’
‘Did she?’ I was surprised.
‘She certainly did. Louise used to roar after every bottle until she was three or four months old – it was horrendous. But one day it just stopped. I think she was relieved when I told her that.’
‘Have you heard from Gavin?’ I asked.
‘He called the other day, reversing the charges from a phone box – his mobile had run out of credit. He was looking for money to fix his tent or something. So your father said he’d give him two hundred euros and that was it. Not a penny more. The only thing he’ll give him now is a return ticket home.’
‘I think he’s getting tired of it,’ I said. ‘He called me a week ago. It had been raining non-stop and his tent had flooded. He’s still pretending to be a vegan and said he was absolutely starving, not to mention cold, wet and miserable. I think the novelty of trying to save the world is definitely wearing off.’
‘Good. The sooner the better.’
I glanced at my watch. ‘Oh, shoot, I have to go and pick the boys up. I’ll see you on Friday,’ I said, and kissed my mother goodbye.
‘No, you won’t. I’ve a bridge competition,’ she answered.
‘Oh, right, yes, of course.’ I winked at her and headed off with my new party dress under my arm.
I wondered if Harry would invite anyone apart from my family to the surprise dinner – maybe Marian and Greg? It’d be nice to have them there, but then again Sophie and Marian didn’t get on so it might be awkward. Even if it was only Mum and Dad and Sophie and Jack, I’d have a great time. I planned to drink too much, eat a huge portion of pasta followed by tiramisu and have fun. It’d be nice to have some attention for once. I felt like a non-person most of the time – the triplets’ mother, Tom’s mother, Harry’s wife, Sophie and Louise’s sister … On Friday night I’d be Julie Devlin, birthday girl, in a sparkly dress. Hurrah!
The triplets were a bit confused. I was twenty-one last year and now I’m going to be forty. Thankfully, maths isn’t a strong point so they’ve just accepted it. They know it’s a big birthday, though, because when Harry turned forty last year I spent the whole day decorating the house with banners and balloons and cards, and the boys helped me make a big cake and we had a party in the house that night for twenty of Harry’s friends and the kids were allowed to stay up late and eat chocolate and watch whatever they wanted on TV. They loved it. They think it’s going to be the same on Friday night – to be honest, I don’t care what they do. I’ve booked Gloria – my cleaning lady who does no cleaning – to babysit. She’s the only person who the kids are scared of and I know I can rely on her not to let them burn the house down.
I woke up on my birthday with butterflies in my stomach. I was excited. I couldn’t wait for tonight and my surprise party. Harry was already up and dressed.
‘Morning.’ I beamed at him.
‘I’m late – I have to dash. I’ll see you later.’ He rushed out of the door, looking hassled.
‘I’ve booked Gloria for seven thirty,’ I shouted after him.
‘Great,’ he replied, closing the door.
I looked around the bed and under my pillow for a card or a hidden present, but there was nothing. He must be saving it all until later. My phone rang and I grabbed it: the first of my birthday calls.
‘Will you accept a reversed charge call from London?’ the operator’s voice asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Hi, sis.’
‘Hi, Gavin.’
‘Happy birthday.’
‘Thanks – look, I can’t stay on the phone long. Reversed charge calls are too expensive, we’re broke and I’m hoping Harry’s going to spend the few euros we have left on my present.’
‘Tell me about it. I’m skint too and Sophie’s refusing to call me. I think she’s fed-up bailing me out and Louise just shouted at me to get a life when I called her last week. She sounded like she was totally losing it. What’s going on?’
‘Baby trouble.’
‘OK – that explains the background noise. I thought she had the TV on at full volume. So, what are you doing for the big day?’
‘Not sure yet. Harry’s being all secretive and weird so I think he’s organized a dinner for me. Probably just Mum and Dad and Sophie and Jack, but it’ll still be nice. I wish you and Lou were coming too, though.’
‘Dude, if you could fly me home, I’d be there. I’m in need of a good meal.’
‘If I had the money, you know I would. So, the whole vegan thing isn’t such fun any more?’
‘It was never exactly a riot, but I don’t know how Forest does it – a man cannot live on nuts and berries and frigging tofu. I’m dying here, Julie. I’ve lost about a stone.’
‘How’s your tent?’
‘Dad gave me some money to fix it, so at least I’m not waking up damp every day.’
‘Are you and Acorn still loved up?’
‘She’s a total fox, but to be honest, living in a tent with someone isn’t very romantic. It kind of sucks. We’re cold and wet and I’m hungry all the time and there’s mud everywhere. I’d kill for a long, hot bath. That’s what I wanted to ask Louise for, a decent bath and maybe a night’s kip in her spare room, but she was so busy snapping my head off that I just left it.’
‘She’s having a tough time, but she’ll come round. So, are you going to give it up and come home and get a “real” job, as Dad would say?’
‘There’s no point in coming home now. No one hires in the summer. I’ll wait until the autumn.’
‘How are you going to survive on no money?’
‘I’ve actually written an article about the struggle to ban the new Heathrow runway and it looks like the
Irish Times
are going to use it, so hopefully that’ll bring in a few quid.’
‘Good for you. Let me know if it gets printed. I don’t read the newspapers – too depressing. I can only cope with fiction. I want to escape from my life, not read about other people in worse situations.’
‘I’ll let you know.’
‘OK. Look, I have to go – Harry’ll kill me when he sees the phone bill.’