Pieces of My Heart

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Pieces of My Heart Page 13

by Sinéad Moriarty


  ‘Absolutely. Sophie’s put the fear of God into me. Not only did she say everyone could tell I wasn’t having regular sex by my pasty complexion, but that if I wasn’t having sex at least once a week my husband would stray.’

  ‘In that case every married man I know must be shagging other women.’

  ‘I was getting a bit freaked out in there.’

  ‘Well, being on her third, she should have a few tips on marriage.’

  ‘I wonder did number one and two only get sex once a fortnight.’ We giggled and ordered more wine.

  ‘So, what’s your plan of action – or should I say seduction?’

  ‘I’ll text him later and tell him to come home because I need to talk to him urgently and then surprise him.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave a note in the kitchen, saying, “Come up and see me in the bedroom” or something? And have candles lit and sexy music playing.’

  ‘You’re good at this.’

  ‘I watch a lot of movies.’

  ‘I’ll get some candles on the way home and download some mood music. Any idea what songs are good to have sex to?’ I laughed. I was like a teenager about to lose her virginity.

  ‘ “I Want To Sex You Up”.’ Sally giggled.

  ‘ “Sexual Healing”.’

  ‘Anything by Barry White.’

  ‘ “I’m A Slave For You”.’

  ‘Oh, I know – Seal’s “Kiss From A Rose”. I’ve had sex to that, very effective.’

  ‘Tried and tested! Wish me luck.’

  17

  When everyone had gone to bed, I wrote Paul a note and left it on the kitchen table under a bottle of wine. ‘I need you upstairs now! Bring the bottle.’

  Then I lit candles all over the bedroom, set up the iPod, drank a large glass of wine to get me in the mood and put on my new lingerie. I examined myself in the mirror. The very short nightdress was completely see-through and the thong almost non-existent. It made my bum look bigger than it was. I twisted and turned, peering at myself from every angle. In daylight, I’d have been arrested, but in the flattering glow of candlelight I didn’t look too bad for a forty-two-year-old mother of two.

  The wine began to take effect and I started dancing in front of the mirror to ‘I Want To Sex You Up’ …

  ‘Oh, my God! What are you wearing?’

  I jumped. Sarah was standing behind me in her pyjamas, looking horrified.

  ‘Put your dressing-gown on, Mum. That’s obscene.’

  ‘Can you please knock before you come barging into my bedroom?’ I snapped.

  ‘I can see everything – it’s way too much information.’ She covered her eyes.

  I grabbed my dressing-gown and put it on.

  She noticed the candles. ‘Oh, God, are you and Dad having sex tonight?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘I’m going to be sick. You’re not supposed to think of your parents doing it. It’s gross.’

  ‘It’s not gross. How do you think you were conceived?’

  ‘I don’t think about it – ever. Is it like a special occasion or something?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you dress up like this every night when we go to bed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Does Dad know you’re doing all this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’d say he’ll be thrilled – you look very hot.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not something I ever want to see again. Mothers are supposed to wear aprons and bake cakes, not dance around in G-strings and suspenders.’

  ‘Next time knock.’

  ‘Next time I’ll give you a week’s notice.’

  ‘That would be perfect.’

  ‘Did you get the gear from Nadia?’

  ‘No, I did not. It’s mine. It’s new.’

  ‘Well, just don’t start screaming or making embarrassing noises – my bedroom’s only two doors away, remember.’

  ‘That’s enough, you cheeky thing. Off to bed with you. What are you doing up anyway? It’s past midnight.’

  ‘I just remembered that I’m supposed to bring in old books tomorrow to send to the poor in Africa. Personally I don’t think a starving kid is going to be too thrilled with a book – I’m sure he’d prefer a steak dinner – but Mrs Regan said she wants books and you have loads of them. Can you leave a pile out for me?’

  ‘Fine, goodnight.’ I frog-marched her to the door and shut it firmly behind her. I turned back to the mirror and smiled. So I looked ‘very hot’!

  Ten minutes later I heard Paul coming in the front door. I suddenly felt really nervous. I knocked back another glass of wine. This was ridiculous: why was I nervous about having sex with my husband of twenty years?

  I lay back on the bed, took a deep breath and waited. I could hear him on the phone in the hall, talking to the bar manager. I took another deep breath and tried to stay calm. Ten minutes and four sexy songs later he came into the bedroom, carrying the wine. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m seducing you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Fantastic.’ He took his jacket off and walked over to the bed. Suddenly he stopped. ‘Hold on a minute. Did you crash the car?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is Charlie moving in permanently?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you lose your engagement ring?’

  ‘No, I bloody didn’t. I didn’t do anything, except spend a ton of money on underwear. I’m trying to be more femme fatale and less frumpy mother.’

  ‘I’m all for that,’ he said, kicking his shoes off. ‘Would this have anything to do with a certain Polish pole dancer who parades around half naked?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, whatever the reason, I’m a happy man,’ he said, whipping the rest of his clothes off and hopping into bed. He reached over to kiss me.

  ‘Hold on!’ I stopped him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I need you to lie back and close your eyes.’

  ‘Kinky?’

  ‘No, more sensual.’

  ‘Bring it on.’

  While he lay there, eyes closed and a very large grin on his face, I shook the can and then sprayed it all over his chest.

  ‘WHAT THE HELL?’ He sat bolt upright.

  ‘Stop! You’re spilling cream all over the duvet.’

  ‘Cream?’

  ‘Yes, you idiot. I’m supposed to lick it off now.’

  ‘But it feels rotten. It’s all wet and slimy.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be sensual.’

  ‘Says who?’

  ‘Glamour.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Glamour magazine. It said that lots of married couples needed to spice up their sex lives and this was one way to do it.’

  ‘You read this in a magazine?’

  ‘Well, I thought that maybe we’d got a bit stale lately, and with my father downstairs getting lots of action and you permanently staring at Nadia’s boobs, I thought it was time to do something different.’

  ‘Nadia’s knockers are far too big and I don’t need props in bed.’

  ‘So you’re not fantasizing about having sex with her?’

  ‘Strange though this may seem, I am not in fact lusting after my father-in-law’s girlfriend.’

  ‘She’s very sexy.’

  ‘I don’t happen to think so.’

  ‘So you’re not dreaming about her swinging around a pole in front of you.’

  ‘No, Ava, I’m not. But if you fancied taking it up, I’d be happy to watch.’

  ‘I can barely do a forward roll. I somehow doubt I’d be too hot at pole dancing.’

  ‘That’s fine with me. I’d rather keep it simple.’

  ‘Really? You’re not bored with our sex life?’

  ‘To be honest, I think we could do with a bit more action, but I find you as gorgeous now as I did when I first met you. I’m a simple man. I don’t need whipped cream or pole dance
rs. I just need you, naked. I’m going to wipe this stuff off, but don’t move. I’ll be right back.’

  I lay down and smiled. Paul liked me just the way I was. He still fancied me. He didn’t want to sleep with Nadia. He wasn’t looking for kinky sex. All I had to do now was remember Sophie’s advice about weekly sessions and hopefully he wouldn’t run off with one of the bar girls.

  The next morning Magda arrived in to clean the house and I took her aside to talk about Nadia. Magda had been with us for years and we were very fond of her. She was kind, honest, lovely to the girls, loyal and generous. I was puzzled by her friendship with Nadia. They seemed so different.

  ‘How long have you and Nadia been friends?’ I asked her.

  She was shocked. ‘Nadia no my friend.’

  ‘But you introduced her to Charlie.’

  ‘I no introduce Nadia. I introduce Agata. You daddy no like Agata. He say she too old and fat. He like Agata cousin, Nadia.’

  ‘So Nadia isn’t your friend?’

  Magda crossed her arms and shook her head. ‘That girl no my friend.’

  ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘I meet three times.’

  ‘And what do you think of her?’

  Magda’s mouth formed a tight line. ‘She like the money.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve noticed. Is she a good person?’

  ‘I don’t think she good person. I think she happy when she having money. You daddy silly man. Agata good person, she want luff. Nadia not good person, she wanting the money.’

  ‘My father’s vulnerable. He falls in love very easily. This is just like what happened with Catherine. When my mother died he jumped into a relationship with a completely unsuitable woman.’

  ‘Nadia no luff him.’

  ‘I know. I’m worried about him.’

  ‘You no worry. I watching Nadia. You good family. You nice to Magda. If Nadia do bad thing, you tell Magda and I come with Polish friends and Nadia no problem any more.’

  I was relieved to hear that. It was nice to know that the Polish community was on my side. Although I didn’t want any actual harm to come to Nadia, the thought of her being carted out of my house by big strong Polish men was quite appealing. ‘Thank you, Magda.’

  ‘No problem. I like you family fery much,’ she said staunchly, adding with a smile, ‘even you crazy daddy.’

  Later that day when the girls were doing their homework and the dinner was in the oven, I sat down in the TV room to go over some menus for a fourth-birthday party we had coming up – they had requested a Scooby Doo Adventure theme. While I was reading through Helen’s suggestions for food – biscuits in the shape of bones to look like Scooby Doo snacks, mini hot-dogs and hamburgers and a cake in the shape of Scooby Doo’s head with a bubble coming out of his mouth saying, ‘Yikes’ – I heard raised voices from Charlie’s room.

  ‘I want to get a booby job,’ Nadia demanded.

  ‘But your breasts are perfect,’ Charlie said.

  ‘No, they falling down now. The other girls are young and haff boobies that are sitting up, not falling down.’

  ‘Did someone at the club tell you your breasts weren’t perfect?’

  ‘Nobody say nothing. Me, Nadia, want sitting-up boobies. But I need money. I no haff enough. You giff me money, please, Charlie. I pay you back.’

  The cheek of her asking my poor father to pay for her boob job! How was she going to pay him back if she was in bed recuperating from breast surgery instead of swinging around a pole making money? And, besides, her boobs were enormous. They’d be pornographic if she got them enhanced.

  ‘Of course I’ll give you the money, but I don’t want you to have the operation. It’s dangerous. What if it went wrong?’

  ‘You silly man, it no go wrong. I haff name of good doctor. He do Latvian girl and she haff beautiful boobies. With bigger boobies I make more money from customer.’

  ‘But I think you’re beautiful just the way you are,’ Charlie insisted.

  ‘You not listen to me, Charlie. I want new boobies. You no help me, I go to customer. He say he help.’

  She was a real pro. Kick him where it hurts. She knew Charlie would freak at the thought of another man paying for her boob job.

  ‘Who the hell is this customer? What’s his name? I’ll kick his arse. You’re my girl, and I’ll be paying for any plastic surgery you have.’

  ‘Thank you, Charlie, I luff you. You good man.’

  How could men be so stupid? She had him wrapped around her finger. I had to do something. I needed to make him see he was being completely manipulated.

  18

  The next evening, Sally came for dinner. We were planning to run through the details for the Scooby Doo party. When she saw Ali, she looked shocked. She gave her a kiss and asked her how she was.

  Ali shrugged. ‘OK, I guess.’

  ‘You look tired and thin. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘I’m fine – I’ve just got a lot on this year with exams and stuff.’

  ‘Well, don’t overdo it. It’s not supposed to make you ill,’ Sally said.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get her to take it easy, but she won’t listen,’ I said.

  ‘Please stop fussing. I’m fine.’ Ali sat down.

  Paul, Charlie and Sarah came into the kitchen. Thankfully Nadia had gone to work so we wouldn’t have to hear her going on about her boobs.

  ‘What do you think of boob jobs?’ Charlie asked Sally.

  Sally pointed to hers. ‘These babies are not what God gave me, so I’m all for it.’

  ‘Nadia wants to get hers done.’ Charlie explained his sudden interest in breast enhancement.

  ‘Oh, my God, they’re huge already,’ Sarah said, piling chicken and roast potatoes onto her plate.

  ‘Charlie, I really don’t think she needs to get them done, and if she goes ahead with it, you shouldn’t be paying for it,’ I said.

  ‘I paid for these myself,’ Sally admitted. ‘It’s a bit creepy when a man pays for a woman’s plastic surgery – it’s as if they’re admitting they think she needs work.’

  ‘I’m against it,’ Charlie assured her. ‘Nadia’s perfect as she is.’

  ‘Well, then, why would you pay for it?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Because I want her to be happy.’

  ‘If getting it done makes her feel good about the way she looks, she should do it,’ Ali piped up.

  ‘I agree with you, Ali,’ Sally said, ‘but Nadia should pay for it herself. Then, if something goes wrong or she decides she doesn’t like them, she can’t blame Charlie.’

  ‘She doesn’t have the money,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Then she should wait until she’s earned it.’ I wanted Charlie to see sense for once.

  ‘Ah, but that’s just it. She says she’ll earn more if she gets them done.’

  ‘She seems to be doing just fine,’ Paul commented. ‘I met her coming in from work the other night and she had a wad of cash in her hand.’

  ‘She’s only starting out. Why wouldn’t I help her when I can?’

  ‘You haven’t been together very long. You should wait before forking out thousands for plastic surgery,’ Paul advised.

  ‘I agree,’ I said.

  ‘When you love someone you just want to make them happy,’ Charlie declared. He was so maddening when he was totally love-blinded.

  ‘If Bobby offered to pay for me to have my chin done, I would so take the money,’ Sarah announced. ‘I saw it on TV – they operate on your lower jaw and move it slightly back. The woman who had it done looked amazing.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I was horrified. ‘You don’t need surgery, you’re perfect.’

  ‘Come on, Mum, I have Dad’s chin.’ She pointed to it, then turned to Paul. ‘Thanks a lot for that by the way. Anyway, I just think that if I had my chin pushed back a bit I’d be super-model gorgeous. As it is, I’m an eight-and-a-half out of ten, but if I didn’t have the jaw, I’d be a ten.’

  ‘Yo
u should be proud to have the Mullen jaw.’ Paul rubbed his chin.

  ‘Well, it sucks. I wish I had Ali’s little chin, but I’m not, like, losing sleep over it or anything. Besides, now that I’ve found out you can have it operated on, I know I have options.’

  ‘I’d like to get off the subject of plastic surgery,’ I said. ‘Both of you girls are gorgeous just the way you are.’ I glanced at Ali, who was being very quiet. She was playing with her food. ‘Ali, you’re very pale tonight.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Well, eat your dinner – it’ll make you feel better.’

  ‘Jesus, Mum, can you give it a rest for once? Stop trying to force me to eat. I’m sick of it.’

  There was a shocked silence. We all looked at each other.

  ‘Calm down, Ali,’ Paul said.

  ‘I’m sorry, but she’s always nagging me.’

  ‘Ava’s just worried about you.’ Sally defended me.

  ‘Look, I don’t feel very well. I’m going upstairs.’ Ali stood up and left the room.

  ‘She’s very thin.’ Sally broke the silence. ‘I got a bit of a fright when I saw her. It’s only been a month, but she’s shrunk.’

  ‘That’s why I’m trying to get her to eat more.’ I was upset. Ali looked really awful tonight. I’d been getting her to eat a proper breakfast in the mornings and making her a big lunch to take to school, but she still seemed to be losing weight.

  ‘She’s very thin at the moment,’ Paul agreed.

  ‘She looks like crap,’ Sarah said. ‘Maybe she’s sick.’

  I went up to check on her. She was lying in bed, under the duvet, fully clothed but shivering. ‘Oh, Ali, pet, do you have a fever?’ I asked, going over to feel her forehead.

  She began to cry. ‘I feel awful, Mum,’ she said. ‘I’m freezing.’

  I went to get her an extra duvet and the thermometer. Her temperature was normal, but she was still shaking. I tucked her in and hugged her. She sobbed into my shoulder.

  ‘What is it, sweetheart? Do you feel fluey? Is it your exams? Is it David? What’s wrong, Ali? You can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’ll do everything I can to make it better.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing. I just feel really shivery and tired. There’s some kind of flu going round at school. I’ll be fine in the morning.’

 

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