Pieces of My Heart (40 page)

‘The usual – sister in a nuthouse and grandfather who wants to have his pole-dancer girlfriend give birth in a paddling-pool in our kitchen. Just a regular day in our house.’

Sally laughed. ‘Well, it’s good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour.’

‘It’s the only thing keeping me sane. It’s a madhouse.’

‘Does it bother you?’

‘It bothered me when Mum and Dad missed my play.’

‘Your mum felt really awful about it and, to be fair, she did have a genuine excuse with Emily dying.’

Their food and wine arrived. Sally said Sarah could have two small glasses but no more: she didn’t want her going home drunk.

‘Look, I love my sister but it’s always about her, these days, and I’m getting sick of it. Even when she’s not living in the same house it’s still all about Ali. I just wish she’d eat and be normal and come home.’

‘It’s hard for your mum and dad – they’re really upset.’

‘Hello? I am aware of that. I live with them and their sadness. I have to look at their tortured faces every day and try to think of ways to cheer them up or distract them. Thank God for Charlie. Honestly, if he wasn’t there I’d have left home.’

‘It must be hard for you seeing Ali so sick.’

Sarah shrugged. ‘I just don’t understand why she’s doing it. I knew about the shooting and I didn’t freak out. I get that David dumping her for Tracy was embarrassing but not enough to starve yourself to death over.’

‘Some people are more sensitive and fragile than others.’

Sarah crossed her arms. ‘I’m fed up of hearing how sensitive Ali is and how we all have to watch what we say in front of her in case she goes off the deep end again. I’m fed up of seeing Mum crying all the time and Dad trying not to cry all the time. It’s doing my head in. I’m sixteen, for God’s sake. I’m supposed to be enjoying myself, having carefree teenage years. Instead my sister’s in lock-down, my parents are on the verge of nervous breakdowns and my granddad is about to have a baby with a pole dancer. It doesn’t get more messed-up than that.’

‘I agree that this is a hard time for your family,’ Sally said, ‘but if you look at it a different way you’re actually very lucky. You have a mother and father who love you, plus a granddad who dotes on you and a sister you’re very close to. I have two sisters I don’t get on well with – we’ve nothing in common.’

‘Ali and I used to be close but now we’re like strangers. I don’t know how to talk to her any more. I miss her – the old Ali was great. Being the only child in the house sucks – it’s way too much pressure. Bobby is the only thing keeping me sane.’

‘He sounds like a great guy.’

Sarah twirled her wine glass. ‘He’s amazing. He’s had to listen to me bitching and moaning about everything for months and he never gets pissed off.’

‘He’s a keeper.’ Sally smiled at her.

‘So, what about Simon?’

‘So far so very good,’ Sally admitted.

‘Mum said she’s never seen you this happy and that she totally hopes it works out because you deserve it.’

‘Your mum is a very special lady.’

‘She’s OK.’

‘She’s a lot more than that, Sarah. She’s a really amazing person. She hasn’t had it easy with her mum dying when she was only seventeen and then Charlie going off the deep end and marrying Catherine. Poor Ava was left heartbroken, living in an apartment on her own with no support. But instead of feeling sorry for herself, she got on with her life, did well in college, met your dad and had a family. She always puts you guys first – she’s a very selfless mother.’

‘I know it must have been hard for her when her mum died. She doesn’t really talk about it, though. I just want Mum and Dad to be happy again and not stressed all the time. I miss the way we were. How did everything get so serious and depressing? We never laugh now. I want my family back the way it was. We used to have fun slagging each other at dinner or going to the movies on Sundays and Dad moaning if it was a chick-flick and us moaning if it was a war movie, and just the stuff that families do. Now it’s all just tension and tears.’

‘It must be hard for you, but Ali seems to be on the mend now so, hopefully, you’ll get back to normal before too long,’ Sally said, trying to be reassuring, but Sarah wasn’t listening. She was looking over her shoulder.

Then she leant in and whispered, ‘There’s a really weird lady sitting at the bar staring at you. She looks a bit psycho.’

When Sally turned Maura was glaring at her across the restaurant. ‘For God’s sake!’ she exclaimed. Then, turning back to face Sarah, she explained, ‘That’s Simon’s ex-wife. She’s mad as a brush. She had an affair but now that he’s left her and moved on, she wants him back. She’s been stalking me but I thought I’d got rid of her.’

‘You have a stalker? How cool is that?’

‘It’s not cool at all. It’s actually a pain in the arse. I can’t believe she followed me here. I really thought she’d stopped.’

‘I saw this thing on TV and it said you should confront your stalkers. Apparently it freaks them out.’

‘I did confront her.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told her to piss off.’

‘You obviously weren’t scary enough. Let me try.’ Without waiting for Sally’s response, Sarah shouted over to Maura, ‘Hey, stalker lady, why don’t you leave my friend alone?’

Maura looked taken aback.

‘Come on over here, if you’re so brave,’ Sarah goaded her. The people at the tables beside them were staring at her now.

Maura clambered down from her bar stool and strode over. ‘How dare you speak to me like that, you little brat? Judging by that dress you’re barely wearing, you’re obviously a slut as well.’

Sarah snorted. ‘Dude, if you had my legs instead of those fat stumps you’d be wearing this dress. And f.y.i., your ex, Simon, is way into Sally. He went surfing in January to impress her. I mean, come on, game over. She’s a top chick and, let’s face it, he’s never going to go back to you. Like, hello? You can’t screw around and expect your husband to stay with you. If Bobby cheated on me I’d dump him like a hot potato and screw his best friend. You got away very lightly. So, why don’t you, like, get some therapy, deal with your shit and move on with your life?’

‘You little –’

‘Hello! I am so not finished. In case you missed it, your ex is in love with Sally. Seriously, you need to sort yourself out or you’ll end up like my sister in a clinic full of wackos. What are you going to do? Stalk Sally for another few months and watch your ex fall more in love with her?’

‘How dare you?’

‘Lips moving, still talking!’ Sarah said. ‘You need to find yourself a new man. You’re not bad-looking, and if you tone down the psycho behaviour I’m sure you’ll meet someone. My granddad is, like, a hundred and twenty and he’s going out with a thirty-eight-year-old. So it’s never too late. But you need to start pumping your energy into meeting a new man, not stalking women. There’s bound to be some dude out there who likes crazy women.’

The manager came over. ‘Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other customers.’

‘We’re going.’ Sally put cash on the table and picked up her bag.

‘You haven’t heard the last of me,’ Maura shouted, blocking their way.

‘What’s wrong with you? You’re just like my sister. He’s not into you. It’s over, accept it, get over it and MOVE ON!’ Sarah shouted into Maura’s face. Then, to the other lunchers, she added, ‘And for anyone else out there who’s hanging on to some pathetic fantasy of getting back with an ex-boyfriend who is seeing someone else – let me save you months of psychotic behaviour. HE’S NOT COMING BACK. FORGET ABOUT HIM BECAUSE, BELIEVE ME, LADIES, HE’S NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU.’

‘That’s enough advice for one day.’ Sally pushed past Maura and hauled Sarah out of the restaurant.

46

Ali was due to have a weigh-in a few days after Emily’s death. I was worried sick that she’d have regressed and lost weight. On the morning of her assessment, I paced up and down. When the phone rang, I was almost afraid to pick it up.

‘Hello.’

‘Mum!’ Ali sounded breathless. ‘I did it, Mum! I did it. I’m six stone six. I’m off bed-rest. I just walked back to my room all by myself. God, it feels brilliant. I don’t need to be wheeled around any more and I can eat with the other girls in the canteen now.’

My knees buckled. Thank God. She sounded so excited. I hadn’t heard her so animated in a long time. I wanted to weep with relief. ‘Ali, that’s the best news I’ve ever heard. Well done.’

‘I know. I can’t believe it,’ Ali said, and then added sadly, ‘I wish Emily was here – she’s the first person I wanted to tell.’

‘I’m sure she’s cheering you on wherever she is.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Hang on, your dad wants a word,’ I said, handing the phone to Paul.

‘Did I hear correctly? You’re off that bloody bed? Brilliant. Well done, Ali. Your mum’s on cloud nine. We’re so pleased for you. You’ll be out of there and back home in no time. Keep it up – we can’t wait to have you with us again.’

While Paul continued to congratulate Ali, I filled Sarah in. Paul then handed her the phone. ‘Seriously, you’d think they’d just won the bloody lotto. I got so excited when I walked into the room to find Mum actually looking happy for the first time in for ever. I was sure we’d won the Euro millions, but she told me she was thrilled because you’d put on, like, two pounds or something and now you can walk instead of being wheeled around and stuck in bed like an old person. And there I was thinking we were going to be travelling by private jet and spending our summers in St Tropez with all the other loaded people. Anyway, I’m glad for you – it must be nice to be able to move around without being escorted everywhere like someone on Death Row.’

Then, whispering, she added, ‘You should see Mum and Dad – they are so over the moon. I’ve never seen them like this. So, keep it up, because it’s actually really nice to see them happy again. I totally milked it and just asked Mum if I could go to a slumber party in Tia’s house and she said yes! You know what she’s like normally – she never lets us stay the night in other people’s houses. Hang on, Charlie wants to talk to you so I’d better go. Don’t let the freaks in there get you down. Ciao!’

‘She’s going to a sleepover?’ Paul asked.

‘She deserves a break. All this has affected her, too. Let her have some fun.’

‘OK, but it’d better not be a mixed slumber party,’ Paul warned.

‘She swore it’s only girls.’

We could hear Charlie on the phone telling Ali he hadn’t seen Paul and me so happy since the day she was born, but Sarah overheard him.

‘I have feelings too, Charlie,’ she shouted. ‘What about when I was born?’

‘All right,’ Charlie said to her. ‘It’s the happiest I’ve seen your parents since both you and Ali were born. Jesus, you’ve been very touchy since the play.’

‘I’m tired of being relegated to second position,’ Sarah grumbled. ‘I’m standing my ground from now on.’

‘God help us all.’ Paul sighed.

‘Sorry about that, Ali.’ Charlie walked out of the room with the phone. ‘It’s impossible to get any privacy in this house – there’s always someone lurking behind you. Anyway, we’re all thrilled here about your great news. It must feel wonderful to be off that bloody bed and walking around. Keep eating your meals and we’ll have you home before you know it. I miss you. You’re the only sane one in this house. All right, pet, ’bye for now.’

After Ali’s call, I felt genuinely positive about her recovery for the first time. A weight had lifted off my shoulders. Not the whole weight, but a chunk of it, and it felt wonderful.

The next morning I bounded into work full of enthusiasm and focus, ready for Annabelle Collins’s sweet-sixteen extravaganza. The party was our biggest commission to date and her father, Paddy, had given us an unlimited budget to create a party his daughter would never forget.

Annabelle had demanded the
Moulin Rouge
theme. But, as she had explained to us, ‘I’m not talking about a few feathers and some guys on stilts, I’m talking can-can dancers, trapeze artists, chandeliers, red velvet curtains and a really hot outfit for me to wear for my grand entrance. I have to look incredible. I want everyone to be blown away. I want a choreographer to teach me the can-can, but the dancers have to make me look good, so they’ll have to be in the background. The spotlight has to be on me, not them.’

‘Do you dance much?’ I asked, somehow doubting that this chubby girl did anything but sit on a couch. She could have been quite attractive but it was hard to tell under all the add-ons. Her hair was dyed white-blonde with lots of long extensions. She was an orange shade of dark brown from too much fake tan. She had long acrylic nails and very heavy black eye makeup. The overall effect was startling.

‘Oh, yeah, I’m a really good dancer – all my friends are always saying I’m like Beyoncé when I dance.’ Annabelle stood up and shook her hips to demonstrate her agility.

It looked more like a wobble than a shake, but we weren’t going to tell her that.

‘With natural talent like that you’ll have no problem doing the can-can. I know a very good choreographer who can help you,’ Sally lied. In all our years of business we had never been asked to teach anyone how to dance.

‘Annabelle is very keen to have a corset-style dress made. Can you recommend a good dressmaker?’ Wendy Collins asked. ‘Someone who specializes in corsetry.’

‘Absolutely, no problem. I have an excellent lady who has helped us in the past.’ I reckoned Madame Sophie would find something suitably sexy for Annabelle.

‘I don’t want some old woman who thinks sexy is a skirt to the knee. I want a corset and hot pants,’ Annabelle told us.

‘Darling, I think hot pants are too much. Why don’t you get a little ra-ra skirt to go with the corset?’ Wendy suggested.

‘That sounds like a good idea,’ I said, looking at Annabelle’s chunky legs. Hot pants were not created for girls like her.

‘Mum! I said I want hot pants and Dad said I could have whatever I wanted.’

‘Fine.’ Wendy gave in. Her daughter was clearly used to getting her own way all the time. She didn’t seem to have the energy to put up a fight.