Pieces of My Heart

by Sinéad Moriarty

  While we drank our Cokes, Ali went for a swim. I kept an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t exercising too much. But she was doing lap after lap. I asked Paul to tell her to stop. He bent down at the edge of the pool. ‘Ali, you’ve done enough swimming. Why don’t you come out and lie down for a bit? Get some sun. You could do with a bit of colour – you’re very pale.’

  ‘I’m not finished yet. I just need to do a few more laps.’

  ‘Alison, this is not up for discussion. You are to get out now. No more swimming.’

  ‘For God’s sake,’ she snapped, as she climbed out of the pool, quickly wrapping the robe around her so no one could see her emaciated frame.

  But Paul had seen her. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re skin and bone. I knew you were thin but … Oh, Ali.’ He turned to me. I just nodded. What was there to say? Now he had seen for himself how bad things had got. While I didn’t like him to be upset, a part of me was glad. He’d back me up more now and not pass it off as a phase or a silly diet. He could see now how serious it really was.

  Ali came over and sat beside me. Despite the heat she was shivering, so I wrapped an extra towel around her shoulders. ‘The sun will warm you up in no time,’ I said, rubbing her back. But it didn’t. She continued to shiver and eventually went inside to get a jumper.

  It was twenty-six degrees centigrade.

  25

  The next day after lunch, Ali went for a nap. Nadia had already gone to her room to lie down because she had burnt her bum – that’s what sunbathing in thongs will do to you – and Paul was on his laptop as usual.

  Charlie, Sarah and I decided to go to the beach. We got three sun-loungers side by side and a big umbrella for Charlie who couldn’t really handle the heat. While Sarah and I soaked up the sun, Charlie treated us to cocktails from the beach bar. Sarah’s was non-alcoholic, but mine was laced with rum and tasted great. Between keeping Ali out of the pool, supervising her at mealtimes and listening to Sarah moaning about how the hotel wasn’t very cool, I hadn’t really had any time to relax. Ali seemed to be eating, but she always ate the vegetables and hardly any meat. I had been arguing with her at every meal, trying to encourage her to eat more, but she just got angry or upset. It was draining and I was feeling the strain.

  ‘Get that into you, Ava,’ Charlie said, patting me on the back.

  ‘Thanks. Cheers – to a good holiday,’ I said.

  Sarah snorted. ‘Seriously, Mum, this place isn’t exactly the Four Seasons. Bobby’s family would never come here.’

  ‘It’s a four-star hotel in the sun. You should be thanking me for bringing you, not complaining.’

  ‘Bobby was really worried I might go off with another guy, but I called him when we got here and I was, like, “Hello! You so don’t have anything to worry about.” He was all, “Oh, I bet you look really hot in your amazing sparkly togs,” and I was, like, “Well, yeah, I do, but I wouldn’t go near anyone here.” ’

  ‘It’s far from Buckingham Palace you were raised,’ Charlie reminded her.

  ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t marry a millionaire. Bobby’s father is minted, so if we get married I’ll be holidaying in the Four Seasons.’

  ‘Where do you get these notions?’ I marvelled at my daughter’s warped mind.

  ‘Look, Mum, I’m hot, I’m young and guys love me. Why shouldn’t I go for a guy with money instead of a guy with none?’

  ‘You should go out with someone because you like them, not because of the size of their wallet.’

  ‘I love Bobby. I think he rocks. The fact that he’s loaded is a bonus. Would I fall for a road-sweeper? No, because I wouldn’t look at him in the first place.’

  ‘Love works in mysterious ways,’ Charlie assured her. ‘Look at me falling for Nadia. Who would have thought it?’

  ‘Wake up, Charlie, she saw you coming and set her sights on you. You’re older, you have a few quid in the bank and you funded her plastic surgery. She chose you. You actually had nothing to do with it. Trust me, when a hot chick decides to go for a guy, he doesn’t stand a chance. I decided at the beginning of the year that I was going to go out with Bobby and three weeks later I had him. It’s a piece of cake, really. Men are very simple creatures. You laugh at their crappy jokes, you act like every story they tell you is the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard, you tell them how cool they are and do little things for them like helping them with their homework or making a fuss if they have a sports injury or a headache or whatever. Seriously, it’s a no-brainer.’

  ‘Hold on there a minute. Are you trying to tell me that I had nothing to do with getting Nadia to fall for me?’

  ‘Nothing. She made you want to go out with her.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Duh, Charlie, sex. She could see you were gagging for it. So she used the talents God blessed her with – her body. Even pre-boob job, she was pretty hot.’

  ‘Where did we get you?’ I wondered. ‘If Ali had a tenth of your confidence she wouldn’t be in the state she’s in.’

  Sarah shrugged. ‘Ali’s stunning and doesn’t know it, which is a total waste. I know I’m gorgeous and I use it to my advantage. Besides, I’m miles more laid-back. I just don’t get as stressed out as she does. I never did. Ali’s always been a worrier. She used to worry about nuclear wars and stuff. I’m, like, why worry about that crap until it actually happens and then you’ll be dead anyway, so who cares? Or if you and Dad had a fight she’d be all “Oh, no, they’re going to get divorced,” and I’m, like, “So what? It’d be quite cool if they do because then we’d get double the presents and attention.” We’re just different, thank God. Imagine two Alis!’

  Imagine two Sarahs, I thought. The house couldn’t fit two egos that size. She was right about Ali being a worrier, though: she always had been. I wondered if that had anything to do with her anorexia. I really hoped the psychologist would have some answers.

  Sarah’s phone rang. ‘Hey, babe … I’m sitting here with two hot guys drinking margaritas and getting a serious tan … Duh, joking. I’m with my mum and Charlie drinking fruit juice. I told you, Bobby, there are no guys here I’d go near. This one guy came over yesterday and tried to chat me up by the pool, but he kept talking about football and lager and how cool he thought Justin Timberlake was … I know, he’s so last year. Then he asked me what my favourite drink was so I told him it’s a tall skim double-shot vanilla latte and he looked at me as if I was, like, foreign or something … I miss Starbucks … Ali? She’s OK. She ate half a slice of toast this morning and we all had to do a Mexican wave. I suppose it’s something …Yeah, my spray tan still looks good. You did a great job. How’s yours? … Don’t worry, I’ll give you one as soon as I get back … I won’t need one, I’ll have a real tan! … Yeah, I know, I miss you too. Only five more days to go. Ciao.’

  ‘Sarah, stop being such a snob. You weren’t raised like that,’ I scolded.

  ‘What? The guy had clearly never been to Starbucks.’

  ‘Starbucks is a coffee shop, nothing more.’

  ‘Mum! Starbucks is a way of life. It does the best coffee in the world.’

  ‘Stop talking rubbish and don’t dismiss someone because they don’t drink lattes.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to marry down, I’m going to marry up. I’m either going to be a famous actress or a trophy wife or a millionaire businesswoman.’

  ‘Trophy wife?’ I balked.

  She shrugged. ‘Why not marry someone with shedloads of cash and spend your days shopping and going for lunch and to glamorous parties every night? Look at Victoria Beckham – she has a great life.’

  ‘She had a successful career before she got married,’ I reminded my daughter.

  ‘Have you heard her sing? She just got lucky and – fair play to her – she used it to her advantage. Maybe I should join a girl band. It seems like a cool way to meet really rich guys. Mind you, I’d have zero interest in marrying a footballer because you’d have to go to their matches and football’s so
boring. I’m thinking a businessman with loads of offshore accounts, like Bobby’s dad. That’d be cool.’

  ‘Sarah, there will be no trophy wives in this family. Your father and I have spent a fortune on your education and you will have your own career and be self-sufficient. It’s very important to have your own money. It gives you self-esteem. And if anything ever goes wrong with your marriage you’ll be able to look after yourself and your children.’

  ‘Thanks for the lecture, but I hadn’t actually finished. After I marry the minted guy, I open my own boutique, which is a massive success, and then I design my own brand of clothes – Haras Nellum – which is Sarah Mullen spelt backwards. How cool is that? The Haras brand goes global, gets bought out by, like, LMV or Armani or someone and I make zillions and that’s how I become super-rich and famous.’

  ‘It appears she has it all worked out,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Haras Nellum,’ I said, laughing.

  ‘It sounds like a Muslim greeting.’ Charlie snorted.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at,’ Sarah huffed. ‘I’m deadly serious. I know I’m going to be rich and famous. Some people just have it. Bobby says I totally have an X-factor about me. So, watch this space.’

  The more she talked, the more hysterical we became and the grumpier she got. Eventually she stomped off. ‘I’m going to call Bobby in private and tell him how lame my family is.’

  When Sally arrived I was thrilled to see her. I had actually been feeling quite lonely – Ali spent most of her time in her room, but when she was with us, it was a constant struggle to get her to stop swimming and eat. Paul spent at least half the day on the phone to Johnny, his manager, or watching the pub on his laptop. Charlie and Nadia went off and did their own thing and Sarah was always texting Bobby.

  ‘I am so glad you came,’ I said, as we sat by the pool sipping a glass of wine.

  ‘I’m thrilled to be here,’ she said. ‘It’s cold and miserable at home, and being away for the dreaded New Year’s Eve is such a relief. My sisters always feel they have to ask me over and it’s difficult to come up with an excuse not to every year.’

  ‘Do you think Ali looks any better? Does she look like she’s put on any weight?’ I asked my best friend.

  ‘It’s hard to tell with that big towelling robe wrapped around her,’ Sally fudged. ‘Is she eating more?’

  ‘A little, but it’s hard going. Every meal is an ordeal. I’m trying to be enthusiastic and upbeat and encouraging but sometimes I just want to get the food and stuff it down her throat. I know that’s a shocking thing to admit but watching her chew every bite fifty times before she swallows is so frustrating. It’s going to be a long road.’

  ‘Hang in there. The beginning is bound to be the worst part. I’m sure once she starts to feel better it’ll be easier to manage.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘Oh, my God,’ Sally said, staring open-mouthed as Nadia sashayed towards us in bright pink high-heeled mules and a G-string bikini that consisted of three small pink fig leaves held together with thin gold straps. ‘That’s obscene.’

  ‘Probably one of her work outfits.’

  ‘I have to say she’s in great shape for a thirty-eight-year-old. Maybe I should take up pole dancing.’

  ‘You’re fantastic as you are.’

  ‘Her abs are amazing.’

  ‘Believe me, I’m aware of how toned they are. I see them every day.’

  We glanced at our own stomachs and took a gulp of our wine.

  26

  We all went out to dinner on New Year’s Eve to a restaurant across the road from the hotel. Paul had spent most of the afternoon on the phone to the pub. I literally had to prise his mobile out of his hand before dinner. Everyone had dressed up, even Ali, although she was wearing a big cardigan over her dress. We sat down to dinner and I had the usual song and dance with Ali over what she ate. She’d say she was full, I’d tell her to have two more forkfuls. She’d say no, I’d plead and cajole … and on it went. It was like when they were toddlers and I’d try to get them to eat vegetables. They’d push their plates away and clamp their little mouths shut, and I’d have to pretend the spoon was a plane or a train, and if that didn’t work I’d bribe them with the promise of sweets. Unfortunately there was no food I could bribe Ali with.

  Sally, Paul and Sarah pitched in and we managed to get her to eat a little more. Once the main course was over, I ordered Ali some ice cream and watched her mash it up and play with it for ten minutes, only licking her spoon when she caught me glaring at her. I tried not to lose my temper. Keeping calm was important, but it was New Year’s Eve and I was tired, emotionally drained and fed up.

  Suddenly Charlie cleared his throat and stood up. ‘I’m glad you’re all here because I wanted you to be witnesses to what I’m about to do.’

  With that, he got down on one knee, took Nadia’s hand and said, ‘Nadia, you have made me the happiest man in Ireland these last few months.’

  ‘I think it’s more like weeks,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Don’t interrupting Charlie,’ Nadia snapped.

  ‘Charlie! What are you doing?’ I asked, trying to pull him back into his chair. He swatted me away.

  ‘Well, he’s not breaking up with her,’ Paul whispered.

  ‘And so, I am asking you, Nadia, if you will do me the honour of being my wife.’

  ‘Wait!’ I interrupted. ‘Charlie, listen to me, why can’t you just live together? Why do you have to get married?’

  ‘Ava, we’ve discussed this already. Stop trying to ruin my romantic moment,’ Charlie grumbled, and took a ring out of his pocket.

  ‘I does. I does. I does,’ Nadia shrieked, grabbing it and clamping it on her finger.

  ‘Is that Mum’s ring?’ I gasped. ‘The one I asked you to keep for the girls?’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Sally mumbled.

  Charlie looked a bit sheepish.

  ‘No girls’ ring. My ring,’ Nadia said, admiring my mother’s diamond ring.

  ‘Their boyfriends can buy them rings,’ Charlie said.

  ‘They’ll have to now.’ I was furious.

  ‘It’s cool, Mum, seriously,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s way too small for me. My engagement ring is going to be three times the size of that or there won’t be a wedding.’

  ‘It’s fine with me too,’ Ali said. ‘I’ll probably never get married anyway.’

  ‘Of course you will, you’re a real catch,’ Paul said, putting his arm around her. It looked enormous on her tiny shoulders.

  ‘Right, well, that’s sorted. Let’s toast the bride-to-be,’ Charlie said, and ordered a bottle of champagne while I tried, in vain, to look pleased at the idea that Nadia was going to be my new stepmother.

  ‘Come on, Ava, you can do better than that,’ Paul murmured in my ear.

  ‘No, I bloody can’t.’

  ‘He’s sixty-eight – you can’t stop him,’ Sally reminded me.

  ‘He’s making another huge mistake.’

  ‘We all know that, but it’s his big night so we just have to try to be happy for him,’ Paul urged.

  ‘Look on the bright side. Maybe it’ll be third time lucky. Charlie married your Mum for love. The second time he married Catherine because she was good fun – far too much fun, as it turned out. This time he’s marrying for pure lust. Who knows? It could work.’ Sally was doing her best.

  ‘She’s a money-grabbing wench. Even Magda says so,’ I hissed.

  ‘He’s happy,’ Paul said. ‘Look at him. He’s the happiest he’s been since he discovered Catherine was a roaring alcoholic.’

  He had a point. Charlie did look happy. But the whole thing was insane. He had jumped into marriage with Catherine and look how that had turned out. This was headed in the same direction. Nadia didn’t love him. How could he be so naïve? Why did he have to rush into marriage? I didn’t want to see him get hurt again. ‘But she’s a gold-digger,’ I mumbled.

  ‘If that’s how he wants to live out
his twilight years, who are we to judge?’ Paul said.

  ‘I’ve had one awful stepmother. I don’t want another. Why is he so clueless?’

  ‘He’s not clueless, he just doesn’t care. He likes her.’

  Charlie was sitting with his arm around Nadia, beaming. Nothing and no one would ever persuade me that this was a good idea, but I decided to make an effort for Charlie’s sake. ‘Well, cheers to you both.’ I raised my glass.

  ‘Well done.’ Sally squeezed my arm.

  ‘I’d like my granddaughters to be bridesmaids,’ Charlie announced.

  ‘As long as we can choose our own outfits,’ Sarah said.

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Congratulations, guys,’ Ali said, going over to kiss them both. ‘I’m heading off to bed now. Goodnight.’

  I watched her walk into the hotel, pulling her cardigan around her – still thin, still cold, still unhappy.

  The rest of us stayed in the restaurant to ring in the New Year. At half eleven Paul’s phone buzzed. He took the call and then came over to me. ‘Sorry, Ava, there’s a problem in the pub. I have to go back to the room – I need my laptop. Hopefully it won’t take too long to sort out.’

  He was gone before I could respond. I sat back and sighed. Sarah said she wanted to go and call Bobby, then Charlie and Nadia got up and said they were going for a moonlight walk on the beach.

  ‘Happy bloody new year,’ I said, draining my glass.

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ Sally said.

  ‘Isn’t it? My husband’s holed up in our hotel room watching his pub on his computer! My father has just got engaged to a pole dancer and my daughter won’t eat.’

  ‘When you put it like that it doesn’t sound so good.’

  ‘Let’s get really drunk.’ I ordered a bottle of wine and twenty cigarettes. My family had driven me to drink and smoking.

  One bottle led to another and then I insisted on going to a nightclub. ‘I’m not going back to my room until the sun comes up,’ I announced. ‘I need a blow-out. Come on, we’re going dancing.’