Mad About You

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Mad About You Page 14

by Sinéad Moriarty


  I looked around the room, interested to see what London ladies wore to a ‘cocktail wear’ event. I have to say it was a mixed bag. I was worried I’d look drab and not chic enough, but the women were in all kinds of everything. Some were dressed up, like me, others were wearing plain shift dresses in various shades of beige, and one looked like a really trashy WAG. She had the fakest boobs I’ve ever seen, lips like pillows and a tan that would have given an orangutan a run for his money. She was wearing a skin-tight silver dress with a slit way too far up her thigh.

  As I checked out the room, I caught sight of Imogen. She was standing next to an ice sculpture of a bull, chewing the ear off some poor man. She was wearing a navy silk jacket and matching navy dress. She had a scarf with horses on it around her neck and navy pumps with a one-inch heel. It was the most dressed-up I’d ever seen her.

  ‘Cheers, darling,’ James said, clinking his glass with mine. ‘Here’s to a good night. At last.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that!’ It was so lovely to be out with him and have his undivided attention – no kids, no mobile phone, no TV, no laptop, just the two of us … and a hundred strangers, but I was going to forget about them.

  ‘Hello!’ Henry bounded over to us. He was six foot four and very gangly. He gave James a handshake/hug, the way men do, which I always think looks really awkward, and kissed me on both cheeks. ‘Thanks awfully for coming. I know animals aren’t really your thing, Emma.’

  ‘I’ll have you know I had two goldfish when I was six. They were called Tom and Jerry and they lasted five whole weeks before dying of starvation because we went on holiday and forgot about them. We came home to see two floaters in the bowl.’

  James and Henry laughed. ‘You might not want to tell that story to anyone else tonight,’ Henry said, in a low voice. ‘Some people are passionate about animals, to the point of extremism.’

  ‘And there I was, thinking you lawyers were a boring old lot.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Henry feigned shock. ‘We’re a crazy bunch when we want to be. If I’m not mistaken, someone stayed until one a.m. at last year’s event.’

  We all laughed. Then Imogen came over. ‘Hello, James,’ she said, air-kissing him, ‘don’t you look marvellous?’ Then she looked me up and down. ‘And Emma, always so jazzy.’

  I was determined not to let her ruin my two-glasses-of-champagne-on-an-empty-stomach buzz. ‘This old thing? You should have seen what I was going to wear.’

  ‘I had to talk her out of tight leather hot pants,’ James said, managing to keep a straight face.

  ‘He was worried one of the old lawyers might have a heart-attack, so I opted for this instead.’ I cackled.

  Henry laughed and slapped James playfully on the arm, but Imogen was clearly appalled.

  We were asked to take our seats and I found myself beside Henry. On my other side was the guest of honour, Paul Aldridge, a philosopher and author, who informed me that he was going to be talking to us after dinner about Animals, Ethics and the Law.

  ‘Excellent.’ I beamed at him as I knocked back my wine. I’d need to be anaesthetized by alcohol when he got up to speak.

  Imogen was sitting on Paul’s other side and kept him in a headlock about horses for most of the meal, leaving me free to catch up with Henry.

  ‘How’s London been treating you so far?’ he asked.

  I paused, chewing a piece of beef. I was surprised the dinner wasn’t green and vegetarian, seeing as we were all about animals and ethics. I swallowed. ‘It’s been hectic, to be honest. It all happened so quickly. James found out about the job and four weeks later we had moved country. I’m only really getting my head around it now.’

  ‘It can’t be easy, particularly with small children.’

  The children were causing the least problems, I thought. It was my sister and my best friend who had me awake all night worrying. ‘They weren’t happy about it at first – well, Yuri wasn’t. He hates change. But he’s actually settled quite well, and Lara is really enjoying her new school.’

  ‘And what about James?’ Henry asked, glancing at his brother. ‘How do you think he’s finding it?’

  The wine was threatening to loosen my tongue a bit too much. I tried to rein myself in. ‘He’s definitely feeling huge pressure to succeed. He’s in work almost twenty-four/seven, proving himself to everyone at the club.’

  Henry nodded thoughtfully. ‘I got that impression from talking to him. He seems very stressed about their first game. I’m sure it’s tough on you, keeping the show on the road at home, but it’s very important James gets a win to boost his confidence and keep the owners and fans happy. It’s a difficult career, very high stress levels.’

  I glanced at James, who was sitting almost opposite us and chatting to a couple on his left. I caught snippets of their conversation – they were discussing rugby. I appreciated Henry’s grasp of both sides of the argument, and his tact. He was a decent man. The Hamilton boys came from good stock. I decided I could be honest with him. ‘The truth is, Henry, I’m worried,’ I admitted. ‘I’m scared that if this doesn’t work out, he’ll fall apart. He was so upset about the Ireland job. I’ve never seen him so down.’

  The waiter dipped between us to clear our plates and when he had moved on Henry said, ‘James is a fighter. He’ll be all right – he’ll make this work. He’s very good at what he does and he has such a passion for it. I admire him for following that passion. There’s a lot to be said for branching out and doing something different.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s risky,’ I pointed out. ‘Being a lawyer is a job for life. A rugby coach is only ever a temporary job. Who knows where we’ll end up next, even if this does work out for him? I only realized the lack of security in James’s profession this year. There are no long-term jobs in this game. I Googled “rugby coaches” the other night, and four years seems to be about the average length of time for a good one to stay with a club. That means, in the best-case scenario, with everything going right for James and London Irish, we’ll have to move again when Yuri’s eight and Lara’s seven.’

  Dessert arrived: chocolate cake. Large slices were placed in front of us.

  ‘Some very good coaches stay on longer,’ Henry said, ‘but I see your point. It is an uncertain future. But then again, Emma, no jobs are safe any longer. There is no such thing as a job for life now. We’re all at risk.’

  The global economic crisis had meant that people in ‘jobs for life’ had found themselves out on the street. But, still, if Henry was laid off, he would be able to get a new job in London with another firm. Rugby coaches moved around all the time, different countries and continents. I hated to think of Yuri having to be the new boy all over again, just when he’d become comfortable here.

  Henry interrupted my thoughts. ‘I did say to James recently that it was very important for him to try to have a good work/life balance. The problem with doing something you feel so passionately about and being desperate to prove yourself is that you can lose perspective.’

  ‘Thanks, Henry, he needs to hear that from you. I’ve been nagging him for weeks about working late, so I’m glad you said it.’ I popped the last piece of chocolate cake into my mouth and savoured it.

  Henry smiled and offered me his helping.

  ‘Are you mad? If I eat that – and, believe me, I’d love to – my dress will explode and my Spanx are really not attractive.’ Unfortunately, just at that moment Paul turned to us. Obviously Imogen had bored him long enough about her children and her horses.

  ‘What are Spanx?’ both men asked at the same time. I put down my wine glass and picked up my water. What was wrong with me? This was not the time or place to be discussing my iron underwear with my brother-in-law and a total stranger who was a fanatic about animals. For all I knew, Spanx could be made of raccoon skin, and if my dress did explode, I’d be carted off in chains by the animal police.

  ‘They’re just, uhm, these things that kind of suck it all in.’

  ‘Suck what in?
’ Paul asked. He obviously wasn’t married.

  ‘Your flab,’ I explained, pointing to my stomach.

  ‘How do they do that?’ Henry chuckled mischievously.

  Was he serious? Didn’t Imogen have Spanx to suck in her big arse? Clearly not. Maybe I should buy her some for Christmas.

  I threw my hands dramatically into the air. ‘Isn’t it obvious? By cutting off the circulation between your collarbone and your knees.’

  Henry threw back his head and laughed, but Paul looked at me as if I was definitely mad, possibly dangerous – a species to be handled with care. I flashed him a smile to show I was joking, but he continued to stare at me in shocked silence.

  Thankfully, before I could regale him with any more secrets about my undergarments, he was called upon to give his speech. He proceeded to talk at length about his book, Animals Have Rights Too. I tuned out as he banged on about animal welfare and ethics.

  James moved over to sit beside me in Paul’s now empty chair, while Paul droned on about equality beyond humanity. ‘What about the rights of the dinner guests not to have to listen to this torturously long speech?’ James whispered. I giggled.

  ‘Why don’t we go and find the bar?’ I whispered back. ‘I’ll pretend I’m going to the toilet and then you follow me out.’

  Three minutes later we were sitting on two high stools at the bar in the back of the club. We had left our wine glasses behind, so James ordered two mojitos and we toasted our escape.

  ‘This is more like it,’ James said. ‘A cocktail with my lovely wife – just perfect.’

  ‘Really?’ I said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I thought you’d forgotten you had a wife, let alone a lovely one.’

  He put down his glass and looked at me. Then he kissed me lightly. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. It’s just …’

  ‘I know,’ I said gently. ‘I want you to do well, so I’m not going to get at you now about it. But we need to do more of this. We should try to go out once a week, James. It’s important.’

  He held my hand. ‘I agree wholeheartedly. I’ve been spending too much time at the club, I know that. Once this first match is out of the way, I’ll be able to relax a bit. I just need to win this one.’

  ‘Well, Claire said she’ll babysit anytime. So we just need to plan ahead.’

  ‘Good idea.’ He seemed relieved that I wasn’t giving him a hard time.

  ‘I find Claire a bit easier now, don’t you? She used to be so shy it was like dragging blood from a stone trying to talk to her. She seems to be coming out of herself. Thank God for Liverpool – it gives us common ground. She’s very enthusiastic about football. I said I’d try to get her tickets for a game. She doesn’t seem to have much of a life.’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear that,’ I said. ‘She told me about her childhood and it was a bit grim. I think she could do with some confidence-building.’

  ‘Well, the children adore her, which is fantastic.’

  I didn’t want to end up talking about Yuri and Lara. I knew that if we started we’d still be on that subject going home in the taxi. I changed tack. ‘How is everything going with your training?’ I asked.

  ‘Overall, fine, but I’m having trouble with one of the assistant coaches. He went for my job, didn’t get it and resents me. He’s been difficult to manage, but Harriet says he’s always been a tricky character.’

  ‘Who’s Harriet?’ I asked, my another-woman radar perking up immediately.

  ‘She looks after the administration of the club.’

  ‘You’ve never mentioned her before.’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘No, you have not. I’d remember if you had. Is she young?’

  James thought for a second. ‘I don’t know what age she is. I suppose a bit younger than you.’

  Younger than me? I didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Married?’

  He grinned. ‘Engaged.’

  ‘Good.’ Engaged women were in the throes of love. They still thought their other half was marvellous. They hadn’t got to the stage where they wanted to stab him for chewing too loudly or buying full-fat milk when they’d specifically asked for skimmed.

  James kissed me again – I’d forgotten just how good it felt to inhale his aftershave while his face was close to mine. ‘And how are you finding it all? You seem to be adapting really well.’

  I put my glass on the bar. ‘It’s been fine, partly because I’ve been so busy. I do find the evenings lonely, though, with you working late so much. I miss being able to pop into Mum and Dad’s or meet Lucy for a drink. I thought I’d see her now that she’s based in London, but she’s busy with meetings and trips to Eastern Europe. Although she’s pencilled me in for a quick lunch tomorrow.’

  James grimaced. ‘I was talking to Donal yesterday. He is not a happy man. He says they never see each other. She comes home on a Friday night and he works all day Saturday and a lot of Sundays, too. He sounded really fed up. Plus he was talking again about having another child. He really wants one.’

  ‘I’m telling you now, Lucy doesn’t. She can barely cope with Serge. Donal needs to drop it or he’ll push her further away.’

  James shook his head. ‘But that’s not really fair. It’s a huge sacrifice for him to give up his dream of having another child. I understand why he wants Serge to have a sibling. To be honest, I think Lucy’s being selfish.’

  I felt torn between the two sides, but I felt I had to defend my friend. ‘Hold on a minute. She didn’t want to have any children, but she gave in and had Serge because Donal wanted kids so badly. She’s done her bit.’

  James could see that I was being defensive. ‘Well, it’s complicated, I grant you, but hearing the way Donal was talking, well, I’d worry about their relationship. And I know you’re really anxious about Lucy. Which, on top of Babs, is a lot for you to take on.’

  I sighed. ‘The Babs thing’s keeping me up at night,’ I admitted. ‘She’s still not talking to me – she’s polite in front of the others and completely silent if we’re ever alone. That tosser Gary gets back soon so it’ll be out in the open one way or another.’

  James nodded sympathetically. ‘Unfortunately, from what you’ve told me, I can’t see it ending well.’

  I rubbed my forehead. ‘She hasn’t got a clue what she’s in for. He’s going to dump her and probably find a way to fire her. It’s a complete mess.’ I began to get emotional and struggled to compose myself.

  James squeezed my hand and I held on to him gratefully. This was silly. I needed to get the conversation back on safe ground or I’d end up tipsy and emotional – never a good mix. James was about to say something else, when his phone beeped in his pocket. He took it out and his eyes widened. ‘What the hell?’

  ‘What? Is something wrong with the kids?’ I asked.

  ‘No, nothing like that. Sorry. I’ve just received a very strange text.’

  I leant over and read it: I think ur hot. ‘Who’s it from?’

  ‘I don’t recognize the number.’

  ‘Call it.’

  James began to smile. ‘Oh, hang on, I know what this is. It’s the guys joking around. They do this to each other all the time on their Facebook pages.

  ‘Watch this.’ James texted back: You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate.

  No I’m not. Ur hot and so am I.

  I giggled.

  ‘I bet it’s Jamie. He’s the joker on the squad,’ James said.

  I grabbed his phone and typed, Hands off my husband.

  Another text came straight back: I plan to have my hands all over him.

  ‘Don’t respond, Emma.’ James was beginning to look annoyed. ‘I do not want to encourage this. I’m their manager, not their friend.’

  We could hear applause from the dining room. Clearly the longest speech in history was finally over.

  James took my hand. ‘Right, then, Mrs Hamilton. Let’s say a quick goodbye and get you home and out of that dress.’

  I beamed at James as I
swayed back into the room, feeling young and carefree for the first time in ages.

  14

  I had a very sore head in work the next day, but I didn’t mind because I also had that lovely post-sex feeling of closeness with James. We really did need to go out on our own more often. We had definitely drifted lately. I was feeling very loved up as I walked into the studio.

  When I got Babs alone to do her makeup, I decided to continue with my more subtle approach.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked her.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, nibbling on a Rich Tea biscuit.

  ‘Morning sickness can be tough.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She was clearly determined not to enter any conversation with me.

  I looked down at her hands. She had put red stick-on nails over her own chewed ones. ‘Look, Babs, I know this is hard for you and I know, despite your bravado, that you’re worried about Gary’s reaction. So all I want to say is that I’m here for you. Whenever you need a shoulder to cry on or advice about pregnancy or just someone to talk or rant to, I’m here.’

  She didn’t say anything. I finished applying her blusher, and as she went to open the door to walk onto the set, she said quietly, ‘Thanks, Emma.’

  As I watched her thin frame leave, I felt really emotional. My ballsy, brassy little sister was really struggling. Damn you, Gary, I thought. I hope you get flung out of a roller-coaster and die a painful death.

  At lunchtime, I raced out to meet Lucy. She had booked a table in a posh café called Sophia’s near where she worked. She was typing furiously on her BlackBerry when I arrived. She looked tired.

  We hugged, then I took off my jacket and sat down. ‘How are you?’ I asked.

 

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