Pieces of My Heart

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘You could try to soften up a bit,’ Samantha said. ‘Even women find you a bit prickly. My friends are always commenting on how cynical you are. They’re afraid to bring up any topical issues with you because you just shoot them down.’

  ‘That’s because they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. Come on, Samantha, even you can’t defend that idiot friend of yours who thought a hijab was an Indian curry.’

  ‘She’s a busy mum of three. She hasn’t got time to read up on current affairs.’

  ‘That is such a lame excuse. Having children doesn’t make you brain dead – look at Cherie Blair and Hillary Clinton, for God’s sake.’

  Martin choked on his drink. ‘Get real, Sally. They’re not the type of women that men want to shag. You don’t have to dumb down, but maybe a less confrontational approach would work. Think less Hillary Clinton and more Carla Bruni.’

  ‘So what are you saying? That a woman can’t challenge a man if he says something she disagrees with in case he gets scared off? What are you, men or mice? Why do I have to pretend to be something I’m not?’

  ‘You don’t,’ Hilary said. ‘But it might help if you tone it down in the beginning. When the man gets to know you and falls for you, then you can challenge him on anything you want.’

  ‘I’m forty-bloody-three. I’m too old to play games.’

  ‘When was the last time you got laid?’ Martin asked.

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Maybe you’re too fussy,’ Samantha suggested. ‘Everyone compromises.’

  ‘I’m not fussy. I’m actually very low maintenance. I don’t want children; I don’t need money, I have my own; I’m not expecting gorgeous looks, but I would like an independent man who enjoys a lively debate and makes me laugh.’

  ‘What do you mean, “everyone compromises”?’ Philip asked his wife.

  ‘Philip, do you honestly believe I thought I’d end up with someone who’s obsessed with collecting stamps?’ Samantha snapped.

  ‘There are a lot worse hobbies he could have,’ Hilary said.

  ‘He spends hours locked in his study staring at stamps through a magnifying-glass. It’s not normal.’

  ‘Would you rather he was in the pub drinking?’ Martin asked.

  ‘At least it’s sociable and I could join in.’

  ‘I’ve met some very interesting people through my stamp collecting. In fact, quite a few of the men are single and I was thinking of fixing Sally up with one of them,’ Philip said.

  ‘Is this what I’ve been reduced to, blind dates with stamp nerds? Someone shoot me now.’ Sally covered her face with her hands.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Philip. Sally needs someone who can challenge her, not some mousy stamp collector she can walk all over,’ Samantha said.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want children?’ Hilary asked, looking lovingly at her two sons, who were busy shoving peanuts up their noses. ‘They really are such a blessing.’

  ‘I honestly think I can live without it, although it does look tempting.’ Sally suppressed a smile.

  ‘There’s no greater love than –’

  ‘A mother has for her child,’ Sally cut her sister short. ‘Yes, I know, Hilary, you’ve told me a million times. But everyone is different and children are not for me. I’d just like to meet a nice man and have fun. It would be lovely to have someone to go to the cinema with. Someone to go to dinner parties with. Someone to talk to when I get home after a shitty day in work. Someone to share good news with. Someone to spend Sundays with …’

  ‘There’s a bloke in my office who’s just divorced his wife. Nice guy, not bad-looking, successful, top squash player. I could see if he’s up for a night out?’ Martin suggested.

  ‘Why did he break up with his wife?’ Sally asked.

  ‘Caught shagging the au pair.’

  ‘He sounds like a great catch, Martin, but I’ll pass.’

  ‘So, as you can see, it was another fun family lunch,’ Sally said, pulling at the button on her jacket.

  ‘It sounds awful. But, you know, although they go about it the wrong way, they are just trying to help,’ I noted.

  ‘I just wish they’d stop obsessing about me meeting someone because it makes me feel like shit. It’s as if I’m not a whole person because I’m single. Of course I’d like to meet someone, but sometimes I’m happy being on my own. Why can’t they just leave it?’

  ‘Because when you love someone, you want them to have it all.’

  ‘Yes, but your definition of having it all is not necessarily the same as the other person’s.’

  ‘That’s true – I never thought of it like that.’

  ‘I don’t want children, but everyone thinks I’m saying that because I’m forty-three and single. But that’s not it. I just don’t want kids. I never did. But Hilary can’t accept this because her children define who she is. She has nothing else in her life. She barely leaves the house unless it’s to ferry the boys to soccer or swimming. I think her life looks like hell and she thinks the same of mine.’

  ‘I know what you mean, actually. When I met Paul and decided to get married, all my friends thought I was making the biggest mistake of my life. They tried to talk me out of it. They said I was going to miss out on my youth, I’d never travel and see the world, and I’d be a boring housewife in my twenties.’

  ‘I remember when you got engaged – I hardly knew you but everyone who did was totally shocked.’

  ‘They thought I was mad. But the point was that I needed stability. I craved structure and security. After Mum died and Charlie married Catherine, I moved out. I didn’t have a family. I felt completely lost. I was living in an apartment alone at seventeen. So when I met Paul, I dived head first into the relationship. He was so strong and reliable and sure of himself and where he was going in life. I wanted to be part of that. He made me feel safe.’

  ‘Did you ever feel you missed out on your twenties?’

  ‘When I was stuck at home with the two girls and all my friends were travelling or partying all night I wondered if I’d made a mistake. That was a hard time. Paul had just bought the pub and was working day and night to make it a success, so once again I found myself alone. No one else had young kids and I had to make a new set of friends. But, I must say, Charlie was great. He used to babysit whenever I needed a night off, or just to go out for an hour. We got very close when I had the girls. I think in a way he saw it as a chance to make it up to me for marrying Catherine and leaving me on my own after Mum died.’

  ‘I think being a young mum is cool. I see my sisters and they’re going to be sixty when their kids are in college.’

  ‘Paul and I always planned to do our travelling when the girls were finished college. We said we’d sell up and head off into the sunset. Do all the fun things our friends were doing while we were having kids and building a life together.’

  ‘You should do it.’

  ‘I hope we will. It would do us good.’

  ‘Well, that’s all you need – the desire to do it.’

  I smiled. ‘I want to, but I’m not so sure Paul does any more.’

  She looked at me as if she was about to ask something, but then changed her mind. I started to busy myself with some files. If she was nice to me right now, I’d burst into tears, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

  10

  Ali continued to be quieter than usual for the rest of the week and moped around the house, sighing a lot. But on Sunday morning, she came into the kitchen, where I was sitting with Sarah, having tea and chocolate biscuits, and said she had an announcement.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve made a decision. There’s going to be a new me,’ Ali said.

  ‘Alleluia. All that misery was becoming a pain.’ Sarah stuffed another biscuit into her mouth.

  Ignoring her sister, Ali continued, ‘I’ve decided I’m going to get fit and healthy. I’m cutting out all junk food from now on.’

&nbs
p; She seemed extremely enthusiastic about her new plan and I was delighted to see her snapping out of her gloom. ‘Why did you decide this?’ I asked.

  ‘I just think that if I eat a healthier diet it’ll give me more energy and help me feel better, look better and study better. There’s so much more work this year, I need to be fit and healthy. So, from now on, no more crisps, chocolate or biscuits for me.’

  ‘To be honest, I think that’s a great idea. I could do with it myself. I always seem to put on weight in the autumn,’ I said, pinching the layer of flesh overhanging my jeans. ‘I’ll stock up on fruit this week.’

  ‘OK, great.’

  I was pleased that Ali was taking an interest in something. And she was right: we did always have biscuits, chocolate and crisps in the house. Both Paul and I had a weakness for sweet things and we had been indulging it more than normal lately because the weather had turned so cold and a cup of tea is miserable without a chocolate biscuit to go with it. But I didn’t worry about it. I always put on weight in the winter and lost it in the spring. And the girls ate well: I cooked dinner, if I wasn’t working late, and it was always relatively healthy – and they were both slim, so I never worried about the odd bit of junk food.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ Sarah said. ‘There are two children in this family and I don’t want to cut out all junk. I need something nice to eat when I’m watching TV. I need my mini-Crunchies, so don’t even think of not buying them.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’ll get you those, but I’ll cut out the crisps – you don’t need both.’

  ‘OK. Bobby’s actually really health-conscious, so I don’t mind eating more fruit. He said we should eat blueberries in the morning because they’re a super-fruit.’

  ‘I’ll put them on the list.’

  ‘I also want to cycle to school,’ Ali said.

  ‘Are you insane?’ Sarah stared at her sister. ‘It’s four miles uphill.’

  ‘I know, but it’ll help keep me fit.’

  ‘But you get plenty of exercise in school, don’t you?’ I asked.

  ‘I just think it would help wake me up in the mornings. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘Don’t even think about asking me to cycle,’ Sarah said. ‘My hair would be a mess by the time I got in.’

  ‘Sorry, Ali, but there’s no point me driving Sarah to school while you cycle. Besides, the weather’s really bad at the moment – you’d catch your death of cold on a bike. If you want to go cycling at the weekend, that’s fine.’

  ‘I don’t want to go at the weekends. I want to cycle to school.’

  ‘Why the sudden interest?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, forget it,’ Ali said, and stormed up the stairs.

  I turned to Sarah, surprised at Ali’s outburst. It was unlike her to snap. ‘What’s wrong with your sister?’

  ‘Dunno. I suppose she’s just pissed off about David and his new super-model girlfriend being all over each other,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Don’t say “pissed off”.’

  ‘OK, fed up, then. I don’t hear you correcting Charlie when he curses like a drunken sailor.’

  ‘That’s because he’s sixty-eight and it’s too late to change him.’

  I went upstairs to Ali’s bedroom. She was sitting at her desk, which was covered with textbooks. I sat down on her bed. ‘Ali, sweetheart, I know it must be really hard for you seeing David with someone else. Are you all right? Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No, Mum, I really don’t.’

  ‘Are you sure? I’m happy to sit and listen if you want to rant and cry and get it off your chest.’

  ‘I’m fine. I really need to work now.’ She picked up her pen and began to write.

  I patted her shoulder. ‘OK. Well, just make sure you don’t overdo it.’

  I came back downstairs and went into the lounge, where Paul was reading the Sunday papers. He looked up. ‘Is everything all right? I heard doors slamming.’

  ‘Ali’s just upset about David.’

  ‘Arsehole.’

  ‘I agree. It must be awful having to see him all over the new girlfriend.’

  ‘Well, the best way to get over a guy is to get under a new one.’

  ‘Paul!’

  ‘I’m not suggesting she goes out and shags the whole football team, but a new boyfriend might cheer her up.’

  ‘True, but you can’t go out with someone you don’t like.’

  ‘He might grow on her.’

  ‘It’s a bit soon. Let her wallow for a bit, it’s what girls do – part of the healing process. First you’re devastated, then you’re furious and then you move on.’

  ‘I’m not looking forward to the furious phase.’ He smiled.

  I picked up the travel section and flicked through it. There were lots of city-break autumn offers. One to Paris caught my eye. On our third wedding anniversary, Paul had taken me to Paris for a romantic weekend. We didn’t have much money, but we stayed in the Hôtel de Verger, a small hotel in a converted abbey near the Luxembourg Gardens. Our room had a tiny balcony where we had breakfast every morning, looking over the rooftops. It was one of my favourite memories and it was where Ali had been conceived.

  I looked at Paul, who was engrossed in the sports section. Maybe if we both got away from work, the girls, Charlie and all of our responsibilities here, we could rekindle our romance and get our spark back. Paris would be perfect. ‘Paul, look at –’

  His phone rang. ‘Hiya, Gary. Oh … I see … Right … Is he there with you now? OK … Thanks for that … I’ll be right down … I owe you,’ he said, and hung up.

  ‘What’s happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Charlie’s been arrested.’

  My hand flew up to my mouth. ‘Why?’

  ‘Drunk and disorderly. He was arrested at the Sunshine Home.’

  ‘Oh, my God, he was drunk in the nursing home?’ I was genuinely shocked. ‘But how? He didn’t have any drink with him.’

  ‘I don’t have the details. Gary’s one of the policemen who drinks in the pub. He just did me a favour by calling. He said if we can pick Charlie up now they won’t press charges.’

  Cursing my father under my breath, I grabbed my coat and we headed out.

  When we arrived at the police station, Gary was waiting for us.

  ‘Thanks for this,’ said Paul, shaking his hand. ‘Drinks are on me the next time you’re in the pub.’

  ‘For nothing,’ said Gary, grinning. ‘He’s kept us all amused for the past hour with his stories. He’s a gas, man.’

  ‘Where is he?’ I asked. ‘Can I see him?’

  ‘Sure, Niall will take you down. I just need Paul to fill out a few forms.’

  ‘Thank you, Gary. I’m sorry my father’s caused so much trouble,’ I said, attempting a smile.

  The junior policeman, Niall, showed me to the room where they had put Charlie. He was sitting on the table swinging his legs like a little boy and holding a handkerchief to his bloody lip.

  ‘Charlie!’

  ‘Now, I know what you’re going to say, but hear me out first.’

  ‘This’d better be good. Paul had to call in favours to get you out of this mess.’

  Charlie began to explain. He had gone to visit his sister, my aunt Daisy, in her nursing home. She had Alzheimer’s, so he found visiting her difficult … ‘When I walked into her room, poor Daisy was all scrunched up in her bed, looking miserable. She’s got much worse. She hadn’t a clue who I was. She kept introducing herself – “Hello, my name’s Daisy” – over and over again. Then she’d ask me who I was. I’d say, “It’s Charlie here, your brother. D’you remember me?” and she’d lean over, stick out her hand and say, “Hello, my name’s Daisy.” It was ridiculous. I’d introduced myself to my own sister twenty times. I was going mad. I looked around for something to distract her and saw a bottle of sherry on her shelf so I poured us both a drink, for medicinal purposes. Anyway, she seemed to perk up a bit, so I poured us another … and so on.

  ‘I decid
ed she needed a change of scenery, so I threw her in the wheelchair and took her down the lounge with all the other nutters and started talking about old times, thinking maybe she’d remember our childhood. “Daisy, do you remember when we used to go dancing on a Friday night after work? You were going with my best friend, Frankie. We’d go to the dance halls and jive to Elvis, Little Richard and Bill Haley. And remember how you loved Doris Day. Remember you used to sing ‘Que Sera, Sera’?”

  ‘Suddenly this ancient dinosaur of a woman comes charging over – well, she’s going pretty fast for a two-hundred-year-old on a zimmer frame – and she starts howling, “Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be … ” And Daisy joins in. The next thing I know, half the room is singing and it’s great. At least the poor eejits remember something.

  ‘So I’m singing along and encouraging them, but then the dinosaur starts bawling. She’s howling, “Oh, boo-hoo, my boyfriend used to sing that to me.”

  ‘ “When – in the eighteenth century?” I asked.

  ‘Then I hear a voice behind me. “Are you taking the piss out of my granny?”

  ‘I turn around to see a big tall fella giving me the evil eye. “No, I’m just trying to cheer her up. It’s like a fecking morgue in here.”

  ‘The big lad leans in closer. “Have you been drinking?”

  ‘ “Yes, myself and Daisy here have just had a few sherries,” I said.

  ‘ “You’re a disgrace,” he says.

  ‘ “Who are you calling a disgrace?” I replied. “Before I came in your granny was sitting in the corner like a dead person. Now at least she’s singing and crying. Better to feel something than nothing.”

  ‘He pokes me in the chest. “I don’t need you upsetting my granny. Now, go back to your wife and stop causing havoc.”

  ‘ “She’s not my wife, she’s my sister.”

  ‘ “No wonder she’s mad,” he says.

  ‘There was no way I was letting that go. I know Daisy’s off her rocker, but no one else is allowed insult her. So I punched him, but I was a bit unsteady on my feet, what with the bottle of sherry inside me and all, so I missed and he boxed me in the face.’