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

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The Secrets Sisters Keep: A heartwarming, funny and emotional novel (The Devlin Sisters Book 2) Page 32

by Sinéad Moriarty


  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!’

  36

  Julie

  I didn’t bother getting changed. I had bought a new dress for my important dinner with Harry, but I didn’t put it on. When I got home from the hospital, Gloria, who had come at a moment’s notice to look after the kids while I rushed to St Anthony’s Hospital, was sitting, fast asleep, on the couch while the four boys watched Rocky. Tom had a cushion covering his face as Rocky was getting his head smashed in by the other boxer. The triplets were shouting, ‘Hit him back! Kill him! Punch his lights out!’

  I woke Gloria and told her I didn’t need her to babysit tonight because there had been a change of plan. I paid her double and thanked her again for helping me out that afternoon at such short notice.

  Then I went into the kitchen, found the secret stash of sweets I kept and poured them all into a big bowl. I went back to the boys and paused the movie.

  ‘Muuuuuum!’ Liam groaned.

  ‘I have treats for you,’ I said, pointing to the bowl. ‘But first I want to say something. I know I’ve been a bit distracted lately. I know I’ve been grumpy and short with you, and I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. You four boys are the loves of my life and I’m so proud to be your mum.’

  Silence. They were thunderstruck.

  ‘Seriously?’ Leo said.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘For real?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Absolutely,’ I assured him.

  ‘Even when we’re bold?’ Liam didn’t believe me.

  I nodded.

  ‘I’m proud to be your boy, Mummy,’ Tom said.

  I hugged him.

  ‘Lick.’

  ‘Suck-up.’

  ‘Faker.’

  I held up my hand. ‘That’s enough. Boys, I know I get angry and sometimes I have to because you break things and go a bit crazy. But the day you three were born and the day Tom was born were the two best days of my life. I cried with happiness.’ I began to choke up.

  ‘Are you crying now?’ Leo asked.

  ‘Yes, but only because I’m so happy to have four amazing kids.’

  ‘You’re weird, Mum.’

  ‘Totally freaky.’

  ‘Why would you cry about having kids?’

  I put my arms out. ‘Be quiet and give me a hug.’

  ‘Do we have to?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Yes!’ I said.

  ‘Hugging is lame,’ Luke grumbled.

  ‘Hug me, and I’ll give you the sweets,’ I bribed them. They all threw their arms around me.

  ‘Can we put the movie back on now?’ Leo begged.

  I nodded. ‘Yes, and you can eat all of these sweets too.’

  I snuggled up beside my four beautiful, hyper, infuriating, adorable, wonderful children and felt very lucky.

  When Harry got home at seven thirty, he found us all in the kitchen. The boys were cheering me on as I flipped pancakes. The cream marble counter was covered with Nutella, as were the boys. We were having a
ball. I didn’t care about the mess. I was alive. They were alive. They were healthy. They were full of zest and life. I needed to be around my children. I needed to feel close to them.

  Every time I thought of Sophie lying in the hospital bed, I became even more determined to fix my life. I fed off the boys’ energy and we whooped as I flipped another pancake.

  Harry smiled at the scene. ‘Wow! You haven’t made pancakes in ages. Can I have one?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘What time are we eating? Eight?’

  I slid the pancake onto Leo’s plate and turned to make another. ‘I’ve cancelled the reservation. We’re going to stay at home. I’m going to cook dinner for us here.’

  Harry took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair. ‘That suits me, actually. I’ve a few emails to send, so I’ll –’

  ‘HARRY!’ I roared. Everyone froze. ‘You will sit down with us and eat pancakes. If you so much as look at your phone or laptop, I’ll get a hammer and smash them into teeny tiny pieces. Is that clear?’

  ‘OK. No need to be so aggressive,’ Harry huffed.

  ‘Smash the phone! Smash the phone!’ the boys chanted.

  ‘I won’t have to because he’s going to turn it off, aren’t you, Harry?’

  ‘Fine, OK. Relax.’

  The boys were so high from all the sugar in the sweets and the Nutella that they went to bed late so Harry and I didn’t get to sit down until half past ten.

  Harry picked up his jacket. ‘Actually, Julie, I’m not all that hungry. I think I’ll just head for bed. I’m playing in a competition tomorrow so –’

  I went over and closed the kitchen door. Turning to Harry, I said, ‘If you so much as mention golf one more time, I will put my fist through your mouth. Now, sit down and shut up. I have something to say and you need to listen.’

  ‘You’ve been watching too much of The Sopranos, Julie,’ Harry said tiredly, sitting down.

  I sat opposite him. There was no point beating around the bush so I dived straight in. ‘How do you think our marriage is, Harry? Healthy?’

  ‘What?’ He hadn’t been expecting that.

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Well, I – I don’t know. Fine – normal.’

  ‘Really? Because I think it’s falling apart.’

  He looked shocked. ‘Julie!’

  ‘I’m serious. Our marriage is in tatters, Harry, and if you can’t see that, then we’re in serious trouble.’

  Harry shuffled about uncomfortably. ‘It’s not that bad. We’re just adjusting to our new life, that’s all.’

  I thumped the table. ‘I HATE our new life. I’m miserable – really unhappy. Did you know that? Do you even give a damn? Do you actually notice my existence any more?’

  ‘Come on, Julie, there’s no need to be dramatic.’

  ‘Dramatic! Harry, I’m not sure if this marriage is going to make it to next week. I hate what we’ve become. I don’t even know who you are any more. You’re not the man I married. You’re this awful person who’s obsessed with money and impressed by every pompous businessman he meets. You spend all your time crawling up Donald’s arse instead of being with your family. I married a family man. I married a man who adored his kids. I married a man who was devoted to his family. But since you inherited that bloody money you’ve become someone I don’t even like. I wish we’d never got the money.’

  Harry slammed his beer on the table. ‘Really, Julie? You seemed pretty happy when we moved into a nice house. You certainly appeared to be very happy when you got your new car. The triplets are thriving in their new school. I don’t think it’s all that bad. As for my crawling up Donald’s arse, as you so nicely put it, I actually like and respect him, and he’s taught me a lot about business. I hadn’t a clue about investments and bonds and derivatives until I met Donald. He’s been like a father figure to me. The investments I’ve made because of his advice have been very sound. I’m doing everything I can to secure our future. I’m breaking my back to learn as much as I can about business so that we will never have to worry about money again. So shoot me.’

  I waved a finger in his face. ‘If you just put the bloody money in the bank, we could live off the interest and be loaded for the rest of our lives. You’re making a big song and dance about nothing. You don’t need to spend months analysing spread sheets. Just open a bloody savings account!’

  ‘I’m trying to educate myself, Julie! What the hell is wrong with that?’

  ‘What’s wrong with it is that you’re never here! Do you think the kids give a damn about your stupid golf-bonding games? They just want their father to be around. You never spend time with them now. You’re missing out on their lives. Stop bloody fixating on the money. Come back to us.’

  ‘I’m not … Well, maybe I have been a bit preoccupied, but I’m doing this for the kids. It’s for their future.’

  I threw my hands into the air. ‘Jesus, Harry, don’t you see? By focusing so much on the bloody future, you’re missing the present.’

  ‘I’m here. I take them to most of their matches.’

  ‘Not lately, not with all your bloody weekend golf competitions. And even when you do take them, you spend half your time on the phone. It’s as if you’re running away from us. Are you?’

  He avoided my eyes. ‘No.’

  Oh, God, was he? ‘Harry?’

  He sighed. ‘I’m not. I’m just trying to adjust. I’m a boy who grew up with very little and I never really made a success of my life. I had an average job and earned very little money. I always felt bad about that. I wanted more for you and the kids.’

  ‘But we don’t care about money. We were happy.’

  Harry looked at me. ‘Come on, Julie. It wasn’t easy. We were constantly budgeting and it was hard for you. We barely put the heating on, we never went anywhere on holidays and our car broke down all the time. I know it was hard on you and I felt terrible about it. I felt like a failure. And when Christelle came into my life, I wanted to be able to help her financially but I couldn’t, so I felt even worse.’

  ‘She didn’t want your money. She just wanted to get to know her father!’

  ‘Julie, you’re not listening to me. I’m telling you how I felt. A man who cannot provide properly for his family is not a man.’

  I reached out for his hand. ‘I never thought of you as a failure. You were a great husband and you did your best. It wasn’t your fault your salary kept getting cut.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. I still felt responsible. So when this money came into our lives, I was thrilled because it made your life better and the kids’, and I was able to pay for Christelle’s college fees and rent. It felt so good to be able to make things better for everyone, but part of me felt like a complete fraud.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I didn’t earn it. It was given to me.’

  ‘But that’s just good luck and you deserved it.’

  He rubbed his eyes. ‘It didn’t feel right. I would have much preferred to earn the money. A real man would have gone out and made a fortune. I was given it. So in my spare time, I decided to learn everything I could about business so that I could turn my aunt’s money into more money and prove that I could actually provide for my family.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it? Why?’

  ‘Because no one cares.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘But it’s … I mean, we don’t need any more money.’

  Harry groaned with frustration. ‘It’s not about the money. It’s about me being able to look after my family without depending on hand-outs from relatives.’

  I tried to see his point of view. ‘OK. So what you’re saying is that you’ll only feel like a real man when you make money on clever investments and therefore prove that you’re a good businessman and can provide for your family?’

  He nodded. ‘More or less.’

  ‘But what you’re not getting is that while you’ve been doing your crash
course in finance, your family has been left behind. We miss you, Harry. I miss you. I don’t care where the money comes from. All I want is my husband back. I’m lonely, Harry, really, really lonely.’ I began to choke up. ‘I spent this afternoon in intensive care with Sophie – she had a boob job that went wrong and –’

  ‘What?’ Harry’s eyes were wide with shock.

  ‘You’re not supposed to know, so never breathe a word to anyone. Anyway, the point is, she did it because she’s lonely. She went in to have surgery to change her body because she’s so desperate to meet a man.’

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘Yes, she’s fine – well, obviously not fine, but she will be. It was a total nightmare. When I saw her through the window, lying there, so vulnerable and alone, it made me realize how lucky I am. I have a husband I love but never see, and I’m struggling, Harry. I know it’s stupid. I have nothing to worry about yet I’ve never been so unhappy. I don’t know who I am. I just sit around here all day waiting to pick up the boys. I’m so bored and I know it’s my fault. I know I should do something, but I don’t know what. I’ve spent the last three months trying to find a job. I only managed to get one interview and it was humiliating beyond belief. It crushed me. No one will hire me. I haven’t worked in a decade. I loved my newspaper column and it really upset me when that dried up. I feel so useless and pointless. I’m not qualified to do anything. I can barely use a computer and I just feel, well … lost.’ I began to cry.

  Harry came over and sat beside me. He put his arms around my shoulders and I sobbed into his chest.

  ‘What a pair we are. One of us running around like a headless chicken trying to be a big-shot businessman and the other at home feeling bored and lonely. I’d better be careful – you know what they say about bored housewives!’

  Thankfully, we were still hugging so he didn’t see my face go bright red. God, if only he knew that I’d had another man’s willy inches from my face.

  ‘I miss you, Harry.’

  ‘I miss you too. I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted.’

 

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