12. Sophie

Louise plonked a big box on Julie’s kitchen counter, followed by Harry with two more. She had asked us all to meet up in Julie’s because she had found more of Mum’s stuff. What we had already gone through had been divvied up between us or donated to the charity shop, and we thought it was all done – until Dad had asked Louise to check the attic.

‘Most of it is old coats and shoes that Mum no longer wore and some bags and hats,’ Louise said, as she pulled back the lids of the boxes. ‘I’ve no idea why she stuck it up in the attic instead of just getting rid of it, but I thought you’d like to see it before I give it all to the charity shop.’

I poked about, but I had enough coats, shoes and hats and, besides, most of it was old-fashioned, and not in a cool vintage way, but in a decidedly uncool seventies and eighties way. But then I spied something tucked away at the bottom. There was no mistaking that it was a designer bag.

‘Oooh, can I have this?’ I asked, holding up the silver leather clutch bag. ‘It’s gorgeous. Not very Mum, but I love it.’

‘Fine by me,’ Julie said.

‘Hang on.’ Louise took it from my hand. ‘That’s my Prada clutch bag. I lent this to Mum years ago. I totally forgot about it.’

‘Oh. Do you want it back?’

‘No, you can have it,’ she said, handing it to me.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. It’s too small, barely holds anything.’

I was delighted. I’d sold all of my designer clothes and accessories to pay the rent when Jack lost his business, and designer items were no longer in my budget, so this was a treat.

‘Coffee, anyone?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes, please,’ I said, and Louise accepted gratefully.

Harry had bought a brasserie-style machine that made the nicest coffee.

While Harry frothed milk I turned to my sisters. ‘Brace yourselves for who Jess is chatting to online.’

‘Who?’

I looked at Julie.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Please no.’

‘Yes.’

‘For God’s sake, who?’ Louise’s patience ran out – it never lasted long.

‘Sebastian Carter-Mills.’

‘Is he that awful woman’s son?’

‘Yes,’ Julie and I answered at once.

‘Are you absolutely sure? How did you find out?’ Julie asked.

I told them how I’d suspected Jess was flirting with someone on the phone, so I’d checked her Instagram DMs and had just found out it was Sebastian. ‘Why?’ I said, putting my head in my hands. ‘Of all the hundreds of boys out there, thousands, why does she have to be attracted to him? What am I going to do? How do I stop this? There is no way in hell my Jess can go out with Victoria’s son.’

‘No way,’ Julie agreed.

‘Well, you can’t order her not to see him,’ Louise said, ‘because that will only make her even more determined.’

‘True.’

‘All you can do is watch her like a hawk.’

‘Remember when Mum told you to stay away from Freddy Finlay?’ Julie reminded me.

‘Who’s Freddy Finlay?’ Harry said. ‘Was he a bad boy?’

I laughed. ‘I suppose he was. Freddy was a stoner and known for it. It was all very brief and I wasn’t really that into him, but then Mum went nuts and forbade me to see him. I was about to break up with him because he was always stoned and really boring, but when Mum ordered me to dump him, I refused and went out with him for longer than I actually wanted to just to defy her. Mum ordering me to break up with him totally backfired,’ I told Harry.

‘Could we ask the triplets to suss it out from their end?’ Julie suggested. ‘Maybe they could casually ask Sebastian if he’s seeing anyone or has his eye on anyone or whatever.’

Harry shook his head. ‘That won’t work. Boys don’t chat the way girls do.’

‘True,’ Julie said, sighing. ‘All they seem to talk about is food, weight training and rugby. But, look, I’ll ask them. They might be able to find out something.’

‘Okay,’ I said – anything that might help was worth trying. ‘But tell them to be super-casual about it. If it gets back to Jess, I’m dead.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Julie said. ‘I want him as far away from Jess as you do.’

Harry handed us perfectly made lattes.

‘I know Victoria is a pain, but maybe Sebastian isn’t so bad,’ he said. ‘You know, don’t judge the child for the sins of the parents.’

‘He’s got her DNA, Harry. He has no hope,’ I said.

‘And he was awful to our boys when they first went to Castle Academy,’ Julie reminded him.

‘I know, but he was young and stupid then. We all are at that age.’

‘Sorry, Harry, it’s just not happening. I don’t want my Jess near that family.’

‘To be honest, Sophie, the boys on the squad are on such a tight schedule, he won’t have much time to see her. They’re going all-in for the cup this year.’ Harry tried to reassure me.

‘Good.’

‘And what about you, Louise?’ Harry asked, offering her a biscuit. ‘Is Clara still asking about her dad?’

Louise nodded. ‘She will not let it go. I don’t know what to do. If there was a way to track him down, I’d do it for her sake.’

‘I have to say the day Christelle contacted me was a shock. A huge shock. I didn’t know she existed. But it was the best thing that ever happened to me.’

‘Excuse me!’

Harry rubbed Julie’s back. ‘The sixth best thing, after Julie and the boys.’

She smiled at him.

‘Anyway, the point is that she’s enriched my life and all our lives beyond measure. I wish for your sake and Clara’s that you could find him. I think it would be a good thing.’

‘But then again, he might be a deadbeat,’ I said. ‘Christelle happens to be fantastic, but Clara’s dad might not be.’

‘That’s possible,’ Harry acknowledged, ‘but if he turned out to be a great guy, it would be lovely for Clara to know him.’

Louise put down her coffee. ‘I tend to agree, but I have no way of finding him and she has a loving family, so she’ll be fine.’

‘Of course she will.’ Julie smiled at Louise.

I reached for my jacket. ‘I’ve got to fly. I have a pile of things to get for Robert’s sixth birthday party.’

‘You are a saint,’ Julie said.

‘Where’s his mother?’ Louise asked.

‘Oh, you know Pippa, busy, busy, busy …’

‘Doing what?’ Louise frowned.

‘That’s the million-dollar question. According to Quentin, she’s shagging some married multi-millionaire.’

‘Oh dear. That won’t end well,’ Harry said.

‘Would you like some help on the day?’ Julie said. ‘Tom and I could come over.’

‘That would be great, thanks.’ It would be fantastic to have the back-up. I was not looking forward to a houseful of sugar-crazed six-year-olds.

‘I’d offer to bring Clara, but she hates parties,’ Louise said.

I patted Louise’s shoulder. ‘No worries – and thanks again for the cool bag.’

When I got home, I could hear Jess giggling on the phone. It was a high giggle, a flirty giggle. I knew that giggle well: I’d used it myself a lot as a teenager. She’d been using it a lot in the last few weeks and was spending hours on her phone. Whoever was at the other end, and I was pretty sure it was bloody Sebastian, she liked them a lot.

I knocked gently on her door.

‘We have to leave now or you’ll be late for your hockey match,’ I said, peeking in.

She waved me away and said to the screen, ‘It’s just my naggy mum. Oh, my God, she’s always on my back. Like, seriously, she’s such a pain.’

I knew all teenage girls went through phases of finding their mothers annoying, but it still stung. After her brief obsession with Pippa, Jess had come back to me and we’d been so close. But then she’d turned thirteen and for the last two years I had become a nag, a pain, the worst mum in the world, a psycho mum and, my personal favourite, a bore. What would you know? You’re so boring. I bet you never even went out when you were my age.

If only she knew. I’d partied very hard at her age, sneaking out of the window when Mum and Dad were asleep, getting Julie to let me in when I got home in the early hours of the morning. Louise was the boring one: all she did was study. Julie always had a steady boyfriend, but I liked to party. I’d tap on Julie’s bedroom window and she’d let me in whatever time it was and never say anything.

I rapped on the door again, louder. She was slating me anyway so I might as well play my part.

‘Hurry up, Jess, we need to go.’

She huffed, said goodbye and glared at me. ‘Oh, my God, you are so rude. I was on a call.’

‘With who?’

‘No one.’

‘It was someone.’

‘You don’t know them,’ she said, blushing.

‘A boy?’

‘Mum, go away.’

I smiled. ‘I was a teenager once too, Jess. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I also dated boys and had crushes. You can talk to me.’

She looked up, her eyes wide. ‘Are you for real right now? Talk to you about boys? I’d rather die. You’re so weird.’

I let it go. I didn’t want to push her, because it was important for me to keep communication with Jess open, however small the window was. But I did want to shout, I’m not weird, I’m just lonely. I miss you. I miss our closeness. I miss you coming to me with your problems and your hugs and your love. I miss us being a team, Sophie and Jess against the world. Snuggling up on rainy days watching movies, going for walks, having hot chocolate in cosy cafés, baking together … I miss it all. And I’m worried about you, worried about boys and sex and drink and vaping and drugs. These days I felt like I was losing her and it hurt. It was a grief all of its own – very different from mine for Mum, but a deep grief all the same. I mourned the loss of my girl, even though she was right there in front of me.

What I actually said was, ‘Come on, let’s go.’

In the car I asked her what she thought Robert would like for his birthday.

Barely looking up from her phone, she muttered, ‘I dunno. Just get him a truck or something.’

‘Jess, put your phone down. I’m trying to talk to you.’

‘I’m just texting Lauren. Relax.’

‘I am relaxed,’ I said, through gritted teeth.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘So do you think I should get him a truck?’

‘Who?’

Jesus Christ. ‘Robert.’

‘Oh, yeah, whatever.’

‘Okay. Thanks for your help.’

‘What? He’s six. He’ll like anything you give him. God, chill out.’

I gripped the steering wheel and counted to ten, but I still wanted to shout at her. Thankfully, we reached the school before I lost my temper and she hopped out without so much as a backward glance or a ‘Thanks for the lift.’

When I got home Jack was packing his suitcase, carefully folding his shirts into the small carry-on. He was travelling more, these days, and while it was good for his job as a business consultant, it meant he was away a lot and left me to manage Jess and Robert on my own.

‘Promise you’ll be back before Robert’s party?’

‘I promise.’

‘Swear, Jack?’

‘Sophie, I’m not going to miss my son’s birthday and, by the way, thank you for organizing it. Pippa’s brief mother-of-the-year show after Robert’s fall hasn’t lasted long.’

It had lasted exactly one week. She’d fawned all over Robert, gleefully accused us of neglect, but then got bored of ‘mothering’ and handed him back.

‘I’ll send a text out to the WhatsApp class group this morning to get an idea of numbers, book the magician and sort out the food.’

Jack pulled me to him. ‘You’re an angel, Sophie. Thanks for being such a brilliant stepmum. I know it’s not easy.’

I nuzzled into the crook of his neck. ‘Thank you for appreciating what I do, unlike our grumpy teen.’

‘Ah, Jess is great. You’re hard on her.’

I tensed. In Jack’s eyes, Jess could do no wrong. When she shouted at me, she was just tired. When she was rude, I’d ‘obviously’ wound her up. Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the delivery room, Jack had been head over heels in love with his daughter. While I loved that he was so crazy about her, it bothered me that he never said no to her. I had spoiled her too when she was younger, but I’d come to realize that spoiling kids did them no favours. Life was tough and you needed resilience to get through it.

I pulled back from Jack’s embrace. ‘I know she’s great, but she was rude to me this morning and that’s not okay. By the way, she’s been chatting to someone a lot lately.’

‘Really? Who?’

‘I’m pretty sure it’s Sebastian Carter-Mills.’

Jack zipped up his suitcase. ‘Hopefully he’s not as much of a dick as his father. He’d better be nice to Jess or I’ll be having serious words with him.’

‘Relax, Rambo. I think it’s just flirting and chatting so far. Maybe it’ll fizzle out soon. He’s very tied up with the rugby, so he hardly has any time to be socializing. Julie says the triplets barely have time to breathe.’

Jack shuddered. ‘I can’t stand the thought of some hormonal fifteen-year-old all over Jess.’

I grinned. ‘You were a hormonal fifteen-year-old once.’

‘Exactly. I know what was on my mind, and it wasn’t chatting.’

‘Stop!’

Jack laughed, kissed me and left to catch his flight.