10. Julie

I was brushing my teeth and watching my phone screen light up and ping over and over and over again. This bloody WhatsApp group was out of control.

I could see Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, furiously typing into his phone. He was taking the whole parents-of-the-captains thing far too seriously. It was a rugby team, not the G7 summit.

He wasn’t the only one, either. Some of the parents were total nut jobs. Every message sent out garnered at least thirty responses. Some were passive-aggressive, others just plain aggressive. Some of the parents whose boys were on the fringes of the team, subs or worried about being dropped, were like Rottweilers and, of course, ‘luckily’ for me, Victoria was one of them. Why, oh, why did her stupid son Sebastian have to be a sub? I would honestly have preferred it if he was the star of the bloody team. At least then Victoria might not be such a wagon towards Harry and me.

I read Harry’s latest message. It said that the coaches were asking parents to give fifty euros per player to pay for a talk from a sports psychologist.

I put down my toothbrush and stood at the bathroom door glaring at him. ‘Is this a joke?’

He looked up and took off his glasses, ‘What?’

‘Are you seriously telling me that the coaches have booked a sports psychologist to speak to a bunch of spotty fifteen-year-olds?’

‘That’s what Coach Long told me. I’m just passing on the message. Don’t shoot the messenger.’

‘But it’s ridiculous, Harry.’

‘Actually, Julie, it’s a great opportunity for the boys to learn life lessons on how to succeed as top-level sportsmen.’

‘It’s a schools rugby tournament, not the sodding Olympics. This is completely over the top. Why can’t Mr Long bloody well talk to them himself? Read a book on how to motivate a team and regurgitate a few good lines? Save us all having to fork out more money to the school.’

‘It’s fifty quid, Julie, not five hundred.’

‘It’s a hundred and fifty quid, Harry, given we have three players to pay for, and that’s a hundred and fifty on top of all the other extra costs. Not everyone is like us and has the money to spend. The rugby kit alone costs two hundred euros each, and that’s before you buy the boots. It’s just a massive amount of money – and most especially for us when we have to multiply it all by three.’

Harry pulled a jumper over his head. ‘I can promise you this. Every parent is only delighted to pay for their kid’s gear. They’re all bursting with pride that their sons have been picked for the squad.’

‘I know that, but it’s non-stop money for this and that, and some of the boys will never even get a minute on the pitch.’

‘That’s sport, Julie. It’s tough.’

‘Who is this sports psychologist anyway? Is he any good?’

Harry pulled on the boots he’d bought especially for watching rugby matches on wet, muddy days. They were waterproof and had a cashmere lining. He thought they were the bomb. I thought they looked absolutely ridiculous, like he was about to climb Mount Everest, not stroll across manicured grounds to stand on the side of a 4G synthetic grass pitch in deepest suburbia.

Harry wrestled with the complex laces on his boots. ‘His name is Dr Ulrich Haddington and he’s supposed to be great. Coach Long told me that –’

‘Harry, can you please just call him Bob? Coach Long sounds ridiculous, like we’re in some cheesy American high-school football movie.’

Harry had a tendency to be impressed by certain people. When he’d first received the inheritance from his aunt, it was investment ‘legend’ Donald McGreegan he’d been obsessed with. Now it was Coach Long.

‘Fine. Bob said this guy, Ulrich Haddington, has spoken to the actual Irish rugby team and really helped them.’

For the love of God, they were just kids.

‘Bob reckons Ulrich can give our boys a psychological edge over all their competitors.’

‘Sure. Why doesn’t he fly in Barack Obama to talk to them about leadership? Dream big, you know.’

Harry grinned. ‘Someone suggested trying to get Richard Branson. Even I thought that was a bit much.’

I’d get eye strain from rolling my eyes if people kept on being so insane about all this.

As if on cue, our phones lit up with a message from Victoria: Ulrich is a close family friend. He has spoken to Sebastian many times. I think the other boys will benefit from his wise words. I’ve hired a nutritionist to make Sebastian’s meals for the duration of the campaign. I’m happy to pass on his number to anyone who wants their son to have an elite diet for success .

I almost gagged. What total arse-ology.

Harry looked up from his phone. ‘Maybe we should look into the nutritionist for the triplets.’

I stared at my normally sensible, down-to-earth husband. What the hell had got into him? ‘Have you lost your mind? This is bullshit, Harry. This is over-the-top, overprivileged, more-money-than-sense bullshit. I cannot believe you’re even thinking of it.’

‘I know it’s a lot, Julie, but our boys are competing with the sons of these high-intensity parents for places on the team and I just want them to get picked for every game. I’d hate any of them to be sidelined.’

‘I know that, Harry, but can you please remember they’re teenage boys and it’s a game?’

‘You’re right.’ He finished lacing up his mountain boots. ‘It’s easy to get caught up in the whole circus. But I can look into a good nutrition plan for the boys myself. Clive Woodward is a fan of good nutrition.’

I sighed. ‘Knock yourself out, but leave me out of it. If you want to cook them special meals, that’s on you.’

As Harry left the room, he said, ‘Fine. By the way, I’m leaving in fifteen minutes so hurry up and get dressed.’

‘But it’s just a friendly warm-up game, right?’

‘Yes, but it’s the last one before the cup begins and it’s against St Fintan’s, one of their biggest rivals. It’s important, Julie.’

‘I’ll follow you down.’

Harry laughed. ‘I’ll see you after the match, then.’

I pointed to the black winter clouds outside our bedroom window. ‘It’s cold and looks like rain. I’ll be down later.’

‘You should invest in weatherproof boots like mine,’ Harry told me.

Over my dead body was I wearing those ugly yokes. ‘Should I go?’

‘As mother of the captains, I kind of think you should, yes, and you’ll enjoy it. Watching the boys playing for their school is my favourite thing in the world. I know it sounds a bit silly, but it makes me so proud.’

‘It’s not silly, it’s lovely. You’re a great dad. I promise to come to the second half.’

‘Great.’ Harry beamed at me as he hurried out of the room.

I listened to the sounds of them all scrambling about downstairs, shouting at each other, losing things, finding things, then, at long last, the front door slammed. Silence. That moment of silent bliss never ever got old.

I went downstairs, ignored the mess they’d made and switched on Harry’s fancy coffee machine. I heard the first spatters of raindrops against the windows and smiled to myself. Good choice, Julie! It was only a friendly, they didn’t really need me there, and I’d get a blow-by-blow replay of the match later anyway.

I was lolling about drinking coffee when my phone rang. It was Sophie.

‘Hi, are you going to the boys’ match?’

‘Of course I am,’ I lied.

‘Jess is mad keen to go. She’s all dressed up and has asked me to bring her – which she never does as I’m an embarrassment to her in general. Can we go together? I need you beside me to face that bitch Victoria.’

Victoria had been a friend of Sophie’s when she was in the wealthy social scene but had dropped her like a stone when Jack lost all his money. I’d always thought she was a vacuous cow, but Sophie had been dazzled by Victoria’s wealth, designer clothes and lavish lifestyle. Losing everything had taught Sophie to cop on, come back down to earth and choose nicer friends. That’s why she didn’t go anywhere near Victoria now.

‘Okay, but I was only planning to go to the second half,’ I admitted.

‘Julie! Jess says this is the last pre-cup game.’

‘I know, but it’s raining and I’ll be going to all the cup games.’

‘I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes. We’ll only be ten minutes late. Besides, you have that Antarctic Goose coat Harry bought you. It’ll keep you warm.’

I hated the stupid thing. According to Harry, it was a coat people wore in the Antarctic in minus forty degrees. It was big, black, bulky and looked ridiculous. Despite the eye-watering cost of this high-end, Antarctic-proof coat, I still felt cold even when it was six degrees on the sideline. I was clearly a very cold-blooded soul.

Victoria had an Antarctic Goose coat too, but hers was red with a big fur collar and it wasn’t faux-fur either. Animals had died for that collar. I thought she looked silly in hers and she was tall and stick thin. I was short and chubby, so I looked like a Teletubby in mine. I didn’t want to wear it, but it was warmer than any other coat I had, so I reluctantly pulled it on.

Jess stood between Sophie and me in low-slung jeans and a cropped faux-fur jacket that was hanging off one shoulder.

‘Are you not freezing?’ I asked her. ‘I’m cold looking at you.’

‘No, I’m ff-fff-fine.’ She shivered, as she applied more lip-gloss. Her lips were turning a light shade of blue.

She didn’t need any more lip-gloss or make-up. She looked like she was heading out to a party. She was a mini-Sophie, all blonde hair and long, slim limbs. I’d noticed a few of the boys who’d come to support their classmates ogling her. The boys on the subs bench, which was directly to our left, were checking her out too.

‘Who’s that?’ Jess asked, pointing at Sebastian.

‘Never mind. Stay away from him,’ I said.

Sophie looked over. ‘Oh, God, is that Sebastian?’

‘The one and only.’

‘He used to be a scrawny little kid.’

He was now five foot ten, muscly and broad-chested – probably from the gym and the pool he had at his house, as well as the private nutritionist.

‘Sebastian Carter-Mills?’ Jess wasn’t letting go.

‘Yes,’ Sophie said.

‘Didn’t I used to know him when I was younger?’

‘Yes, before we lost our money and Victoria completely dumped me.’ Sophie’s mouth set in a hard line.

‘He’s fit.’

‘No, he’s not, he’s a dickhead.’ I put my niece right.

‘Stay away from him,’ Sophie warned her daughter.

Jess completely ignored us both and I saw her smile at him. He smiled back. To be fair, he was a good-looking kid, but he had been horrible to the triplets when they’d first arrived in the school. Unfortunately for Sebastian, the triplets had grown taller than him and shone on the rugby pitch, so he’d changed his tune and decided he actually wanted to be friends with them. The triplets had the measure of him, though: they tolerated him but that was all. They hadn’t forgotten how vile he had been to them when they’d first arrived in Castle Academy. The great thing about being a triplet is that you don’t need to be friends with anyone you don’t want to because you already have two best mates. My boys were as thick as thieves. Although they fought morning, noon and night, they always had each other’s backs and I loved seeing them support each other.

‘Have you been talking to Louise?’ I asked.

‘Not this week,’ Sophie said. ‘The Robert saga continues with Pippa doing her dump-and-run act at the most inconvenient moments, so I’ve just been running from work to school to home with no time for anything else. I’ll call Louise tonight, maybe, see how she’s doing. I think she’s been having a tough time with Clara not wanting to go to school. And what about Dad? Have you seen him this week? I feel bad that I haven’t.’

‘Yeah, I popped in yesterday.’

‘How do you think he is?’

‘He was sitting in the TV room, in the cold, watching football with a plate of toast on his lap. He said there was no point putting the heat on for just him. It kind of broke my heart. I never realized how much he depended on Mum for everything – social life, food, a warm, welcoming home, company … all of it.’

Sophie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’ll call over tonight.’

Seeing Dad sitting in the cold had made my heart ache. We all dropped in as much as we could, but as the weeks had passed and we’d all got busier, it had gone from someone calling in every night to every second or third night.

‘I was so angry at him for leaving my house the last time to call into Dolores, but seeing him yesterday, I went back to thinking that maybe having Dolores for a bit of company wasn’t the worst thing after all. At least she gets him out and about and up to the golf club,’ I said.

Sophie sighed. ‘I can’t stand her, but I suppose it’s better than him being alone in a cold house.’

‘I miss Mum,’ I said quietly.

‘Me too.’ Sophie reached for my gloved hand and squeezed it.

‘I just thought it would get easier, but it hasn’t. Life around you has moved on, but you’re standing still. It’s like, okay, that’s over now, you’ve cried, been sad, and now it’s time to crack on with life. But I’m still really struggling.’

‘Me too,’ Sophie said.

We gave each other watery smiles. I knew she understood.

She inhaled deeply. ‘Right, come on. Let’s focus on your superstar sons. This is a proud day for all of us and I know Mum is cheering them on.’

The match ended with a winning try by Luke. It was hard to see who’d scored because there was a big pile-on, but Luke was the one holding the ball when they all peeled off him. Liam and Leo ran over to him and hugged him. I fought back tears, happy ones this time.

Sophie whooped and cheered. Harry, standing on the opposite side of the pitch with the other parents, including Victoria, clapped Luke on the back as he ran past.

I was delighted for Luke, he trained so hard and was so dedicated to the team. It was lovely to see him shine.

As the players left the pitch, Sophie and I were catching up on Shania’s pregnancy, when we heard a voice.

‘Oh, God, no!’ Sophie mouthed.

‘Is that you, Sophie?’ Victoria drawled.

Sophie turned to face her. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘I thought it was, but I wasn’t sure. You look exhausted.’

The bitch. Sophie’s face reddened.

‘What are you doing at Castle Academy?’

‘I’ve come to watch my amazing nephews playing for the school team. Wasn’t Luke’s winning try incredible?’

Victoria struggled to mutter, ‘Yes, they finished strongly.’

‘What are you doing here? Is Sebastian on the team?’ Sophie feigned innocence.

‘Oh, yes, he’s a key player.’

‘Really? I didn’t see him on the pitch?’

‘Well, he’s carrying a slight injury,’ Victoria blatantly lied. Then turning to me she said, ‘You and Henry really need to improve the communication on the WhatsApp group. There should be far more information from the coaches coming through.’

‘It’s Harry, not Henry, and the coaches were very clear that they do not want to bombard parents with information.’

‘I’d be happy to take over. Communication is my forte. I’m up to my eyes as usual but I’m an excellent multi-tasker.’

‘No, thanks. As the captains’ parents, it’s our role.’ I shut her down.

‘Why are you so busy? Are you working now?’ Sophie poked the bear.

Victoria’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t have time to work. I’m run ragged looking after Sebastian and Gerry and decorating our new apartment in London.’

‘I thought you had interior designers and staff to do all that.’ Sophie wasn’t letting go. The same Sophie who, nine years ago, had spent her days with Victoria doing yoga and shopping.

‘Staff need to be managed, Sophie. Are you still working in that modelling place?’ Victoria waved her hand dismissively.

‘I’m a partner at the Beauty Spot, yes.’

‘Did I hear you got back with Jack?’

‘Correct.’

‘Didn’t he have a child with that much younger woman?’

‘Yes, he did. Robert is a lovely boy.’

‘Must be difficult to trust Jack, though. I mean, he let you down a lot, financially, and then shacking up with someone young enough to be your daughter.’

‘Jack and I are great, thanks. Speaking of daughters, that’s my Jess.’ Sophie pointed to Jess, who was standing a few feet away, talking into her phone. ‘You probably remember her from when she was much younger.’

Victoria looked Jess up and down. ‘Here to try to find an elite boyfriend, I suppose?’

‘No, she’s here to support her cousins, the three stars of the team.’

Thankfully, before a full cat fight broke out, the triplets trundled over to say hi to their cousin.

‘What are you doing here? Are you lost?’ Liam slagged her.

Jess put her phone down and grinned. ‘I was bored, so I thought I’d come down and see if you’re actually any good.’

‘And?’ Leo asked.

‘Not bad.’

‘Not bad? I scored the winning try!’ Luke playfully hit her on the arm.

‘I kicked most of the points,’ Liam said.

‘Did you see my pass to Barry for his try?’ Leo asked.

‘Okay, okay, you were all great.’ Jess laughed.

They walked over to us and Sophie congratulated them loudly and effusively.

Sebastian came up behind them.

‘Hello, darling,’ Victoria gushed, trying to hug him as he swatted her away.

He locked eyes with Jess. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ Jess blushed.

‘I’m Sebastian,’ he said.

‘This is our cousin, Jess.’ Leo introduced her.

‘How come you guys never told me you had a supermodel cousin?’ Sebastian drawled.

The triplets made vomit noises. I felt like joining them. Smarmy, overconfident little git.

‘Could you be any lamer?’ Luke asked Sebastian.

‘Dude, you’re so cheesy,’ Leo said.

‘Step away,’ Liam warned.

I watched Jess’s face. Her eyes were on Sebastian and she was lapping up his attention.

‘Jess!’ Sophie said sharply. ‘We need to go.’

‘Yes, so do we, Sebastian.’ Victoria tugged at her son’s arm.

‘Really nice to meet you, Jess,’ Sebastian said, not taking his eyes off her.

‘You too.’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘Will I see you at the next game?’

‘Definitely.’

Victoria pulled Sebastian away as he looked back over his shoulder.

‘Don’t go there, he’s a jerk,’ Liam said to Jess.

‘Tosser,’ Luke agreed.

‘Wanker,’ Leo said.

Judging by the way Jess was looking at Sebastian, it was clear she was not listening to a single word her cousins were saying.