5. Louise

Christ, they were crying again. We’d never get through Mum’s things if Sophie and Julie didn’t stop bawling every time they saw something that Mum used to wear. For God’s sake, we were in Mum’s bedroom: she wore everything in here – clothes, jewellery and shoes. Sophie sobbed over Mum’s ‘favourite’ cardigan while I tried not to scream.

I hadn’t been sleeping well since Mum died. I was worried about Clara. I could see she was trying to process Mum’s death and it was overwhelming her. She’d had a huge meltdown last night and it had taken me ages to calm her. She had been exhausted this morning, so I’d left her in bed watching Casablanca , wrapped up in her favourite soft blanket with Luna cuddled up beside her, purring. Casablanca was Mum’s favourite film and they’d watched it together a thousand times. Clara could quote every word. It was like a comfort blanket to her.

Christelle had called over to keep an eye on her, so I knew she was safe, but I was wiped out from lack of sleep and worrying about how Mum’s death was affecting my daughter. She had been extra sensitive since the funeral. She’d had a lot of meltdowns, was finger-tapping a lot and had refused to go to school a few times. She desperately needed her routine and I needed to get her back on track. Work was full on and I had to deal with possibly the most annoying intern I’d ever had. My patience was frayed.

‘Sophie! Do you want it or can it go in the charity pile?’

‘I feel we’re throwing Mum out of the house.’ She sniffled.

‘They’re just clothes, Sophie.’

‘I know that, Louise, but they’re our mother’s clothes. It’s like we’re getting rid of all traces of her.’

‘Why don’t we take a break?’ Julie suggested. ‘It’s all a bit too much.’

‘Yes, please.’ Gavin jumped up. ‘Can I go down and watch the footie with Dad? I don’t want any of Mum’s clothes or jewellery. The only things I want are some photos. You really don’t need me here.’

‘Okay, fine. Let’s take fifteen minutes.’ I needed to get out of the room before I lost my temper. Didn’t they get it? We had to do hard and painful things, like clear out Mum’s stuff, get her death certificate, organize her legal affairs, bank accounts … Yes, it was hard, but it had to be done and crying over everything was not helping.

We all headed down for a coffee break. Julie suggested we have Irish coffees to help us get through the rest of the afternoon.

‘God, yes, I need alcohol,’ Sophie said.

‘I could do with a pick-me-up,’ I agreed. My eyes were heavy from lack of rest.

I opened the fridge to see if Dad had enough food. It was crammed with two large casserole dishes and a plate of meringues.

‘What’s going on? We have a rota. There’s too much food here – it’ll go off.’

‘We didn’t make them, Dolores did.’ Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘She called over this morning to drop them in. She’d have plonked herself down for the day too, if I hadn’t arrived and seen her off.’

‘That’s a lot of cooking. She’s one determined woman.’ I closed the fridge door.

Julie turned around holding the kettle. ‘I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s good for Dad to have some female attention. He’s lonely in the house on his own. I called in last week and he was sitting in the dark drinking whiskey and crying. It was really sad. He’s struggling without Mum, so I think any company is good for him.’

Sophie glared at her. ‘Mum’s barely gone six weeks. Dolores needs to back the hell away.’

‘We’re all busy with our lives,’ Julie said. ‘Dolores is just cooking him nice things and chatting to him. It’s company, Sophie. She’s not moving in.’

‘How would you feel if Harry was having meringues with some younger woman when you were barely dead?’ Sophie asked.

‘As long as he wasn’t putting all the photos of me into drawers and shagging her, I think I’d be okay with it.’

‘Bullshit,’ Sophie muttered.

Julie sighed and handed us hot Irish coffees. I took a long sip of mine. God, it tasted good. I let the whiskey warm my insides while the caffeine gave me a hit of energy. I felt myself begin to relax a little bit. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

‘I just miss her,’ Sophie said. ‘She was my go-to person when everything went wrong with Jack and it was just me and Jess. She was really there for me, and she adored Jess and was so good to her.’

I remembered how good Mum and Dad had been to Sophie. They’d taken her in and let her live with them until I’d moved my tenants out and given her my apartment. Mum had been devastated when Jack and Sophie had broken up. She’d been so worried that Sophie would crumble, but my little sister had a lot more grit than any of us had given her credit for. Mum was thrilled when Sophie had got back together with Jack. She always said they were a good match. I was glad she’d lived to see that happen.

‘She was amazing with Clara too,’ I said. ‘Poor Clara misses her granny so much.’

‘Mum never showed any interest in my kids,’ Julie said, an edge to her voice.

‘Oh, come on now, that’s not true,’ Sophie defended Mum.

But Julie had a point. Mum couldn’t handle the triplets – to be fair, no one could. They were much easier now that they were older, but when they were young they were absolutely wild.

Julie put down her coffee, her cheeks flushed. ‘Yes, it is true, Sophie. While Mum was all over Jess, having her for sleepovers and taking her on shopping trips, she completely ignored the triplets. They were all born the same year and yet my boys had barely any relationship with Mum while your Jess was lavished with love and attention.’

‘It wasn’t that she didn’t love them, just that the triplets were a lot. Mum wasn’t able for them all at the same time,’ Sophie said.

Julie’s eyes flashed. ‘I know that, but it was hard. While she was brilliant with Jess, and later with Clara, she really didn’t show any interest in my boys and it hurt my bloody feelings. They’re my kids. I love them. And it would have been nice if my mother had cared a bit more about them.’

Wow. I’d never known Julie felt so wounded by Mum’s hands-off approach to the boys. It clearly bothered her. She’d mentioned once or twice how Mum and Dad sometimes pretended they had to be somewhere when they saw her arriving with the triplets, even one time that they hid behind the curtains and she pretended she didn’t see them and went away. I suppose I didn’t pay much attention to it. I was living in London then, working twelve-hour days, and I didn’t have a child, so it kind of went over my head.

But looking at it now, from Julie’s point of view, I would have felt very hurt if Mum hadn’t embraced Clara. Mum’s interest, love and affection for Clara had saved me at a time when I was really struggling with her diagnosis and panicking about her future. I still did panic about it, but Mum had helped hugely in bringing Clara on – encouraging her to communicate more, to look people in the eye, to reply to questions, to go to school. Plus it was Mum who had bought her Luna, our little white cat and the love of Clara’s life. Mum had gently and ever so patiently helped Clara cope and manage in a world that confused and frightened her. That devotion was a lifeline to me and Clara, but also forged a very strong connection between me and Mum. I suddenly realized, for the first time, that Julie had missed out on that.

‘I’m sorry, Julie, I never realized how hard that was for you,’ I admitted.

‘Me neither,’ Sophie said.

Julie sighed. ‘Look, she was a great mum to me, just not the amazing grandmother you both experienced. And it was hard, especially when the boys were young and I was struggling to get through the days. Thank God for Marion. She saved me. But at least Dad is finally showing some interest in the triplets now that they’re good at rugby.’

‘As is Jess, by the way. She keeps asking me if they’ve been picked to play. I think it’ll give her big kudos with her friends that she has three cousins on the team. You know what teenage girls are like.’ Sophie rolled her eyes.

‘Well, now, I seem to remember you at fifteen, getting all tarted up and going to rugby matches to pick out the best-looking guy to target as your next boyfriend,’ Julie reminded her.

Sophie laughed. ‘God, yes, I did do that.’

‘And you always got them because you were so bloody gorgeous,’ Julie added.

‘Were, being the operative word.’ Sophie tugged at her face. ‘Being surrounded every day by beautiful young models is not good for the ego.’

‘You look much better without all that stuff in your face,’ I said. Sophie had gone through a stage of doing far too much Botox and filler.

‘Yes, well, thanks to you telling me I looked like a bloated puffer fish, I’ve stopped getting it. I’m sticking to light Botox.’

Sophie had relied on her looks to get her job as a model and to marry a rich man. Her life had been perfect – big house, designer clothes, luxury holidays – until it all came crashing down when Jack lost everything. I thought it was the best thing that could have happened to her, though. Sophie had become really vacuous, hanging around with awful women like Victoria Carter-Mills and other rich bitches who spent all day shopping and lunching. Julie and I had felt we were losing her, like she wasn’t herself any more, but there was no way to tell her that. Losing everything had made her dig deep, get a job and begin living in the real world again. In my opinion she was a nicer, stronger and more rounded person now.

‘You look great, Sophie,’ Julie told her.

I finished my coffee and put down my cup. I needed to talk to my sisters about what had happened last night. I was still reeling from it, and it was the main reason I hadn’t slept.

I cleared my throat. ‘Clara came home from school yesterday and told me they were doing a project on their family tree. She said she drew hers, but it only had one side because she has no dad. Her tree was lopsided, but everyone else had a proper round tree. She asked me, for the first time ever, about her dad and did she have other grandparents. She wanted to know did she have another granny now that Granny was dead.’

‘What?’ Julie’s eyes widened.

‘Oh, my God, Louise, what did you say?’ Sophie asked.

‘I said, “Your dad is Italian. I met him one night over ten years ago and I never saw him again.”’

‘What did she say?’

‘She said, “Okay.”’

‘Really? That’s it?’ Julie said.

‘Yes. But that’s what Clara does. She’ll process that now and probably come back with more questions.’

‘What are you going to do if she does? How do you tell her you had a drunken one-night stand in a hotel in Italy and don’t remember who her dad is?’ Julie asked.

‘I believe that with all kids, but especially kids on the autism spectrum, you have to be honest and tell the truth. Clara doesn’t get nuance and won’t accept vague answers.’

‘But you can’t tell her the actual truth,’ Sophie said.

‘I’ll have to. I’ll just say Mummy had too much wine and met a lovely man and had a romantic night and Clara is the result of it.’

‘What will you do if she wants to find her dad?’ Julie asked gently.

I shrugged. ‘What can I do? I don’t even remember his name. I think once I tell her he can’t be found she’ll accept it. Clara deals in absolutes. She’s surrounded by love and family. I really don’t feel she’s missing out. How can you miss what you never had?’

Julie chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know, Louise. So many people who didn’t have their dad in their life say they always missed him, even when they didn’t know him. Like a sort of ghost that haunts them. I’m not sure it’s as simple as you’re saying when it comes to parents and where you’re from. I mean, that’s a really core thing not to know.’

‘Nonsense,’ I said. ‘People overcomplicate things. Clara is treasured by our family. That’s all she needs.’

‘Louise,’ Julie said, laying a hand on my arm, ‘I’m not trying to put pressure on you, but it is a big hole in Clara’s life. Look at my friend Marion. She never really knew her dad and it’s had a huge effect on her. Look at Christelle. She always yearned to find her father, and her relationship with Harry is so precious. All I’m saying is, don’t underestimate it.’

Sophie nodded. ‘I know you can’t change the past, but it’s important to be aware that Clara could end up with feelings of rejection, even though she’s never met her dad. It’s important that she doesn’t feel he didn’t love her enough to stick around, you know? I see it with Robert. When Pippa is away all the time, he really feels the loss.’

I sighed and put my head into my hands. These were some of the thoughts that had gnawed at my mind all night. ‘I wanted you two to tell me it was fine and not to worry,’ I said. ‘It’s really bothering me, but I do keep coming back to the fact that you can’t miss what you don’t know.’

‘But she does know,’ Julie pointed out, ‘because all the other kids in her class have dads in their lives, or at least know who their dads are.’

My heart sank. She was right. ‘I was hoping I’d be enough,’ I said, ‘that she wouldn’t need to look for more. Clara was surrounded by love – she has you as her aunts, and Gavin and Christelle. Dad’s quite good with her too and your husbands and kids are sweet to her.’

‘We all adore her.’ Sophie’s eyes welled up again but this time it didn’t annoy me, because I felt emotional too.

‘Maybe if I just tell her the actual story, she’ll accept it and move on,’ I said.

Sophie and Julie looked at each other.

‘Maybe,’ Sophie said. ‘But you do realize telling the story to Clara will mean questions and you’ll probably end up explaining the birds and the bees to her. I don’t mean the facts about the length of their wings, like in her bird book.’

‘No, you’ll be talking about the length of other parts of the anatomy.’ Julie giggled.

I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Oh, God, that will be a minefield. Clara’s need for factual detail can be never-ending.’

‘Well, you just try giving that talk to three boys,’ Julie said, rolling her eyes. ‘You two have it easy compared to me. That was some fun, I can tell you. Harry ran and left me to it. I even did a demonstration of putting a condom on a banana except I didn’t have a condom, so I used cling film which just didn’t work. It kept getting tangled and knotted. Eventually I just hissed, “Keep your penises in your pants,” and walked off.’

We all burst out laughing. It felt good. I couldn’t help thinking that if Mum had been there, she’d have been laughing with us. She had a great sense of humour.

‘For now,’ I said, ‘I’m going to say nothing. You never know with Clara. Maybe, with a bit of luck, she might just accept what I’ve said and leave it at that.’

I knew I was being over-optimistic. But, on the other hand, Clara was surrounded by love, support and kindness. She had men – uncles and a granddad – in her life, who loved her, and she knew she was the centre of my world: I told her so every day. She didn’t need a father and, besides, I genuinely had no idea who he was. I’d just have to deal with her queries, if they came up, and put the whole issue to bed as quickly and efficiently as possible. It had always been the two of us, and it always would be. We’d be fine on our own.