‘I heard he’s not going.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Bobby did. He said he’d –’
‘OK!’ I stood between them and glared at Sarah. ‘We really need to get back to the dance.’
‘Hold on – are you telling me Bobby told you he’s not coming to my party?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And, f.y.i., he hates blondes.’
‘Liar.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You’re obviously jealous because you fancy him and you want to come to my party like everyone else in this country.’
Sarah stepped closer. ‘I’d rather stick a hot needle in my eye than –’
‘That’s enough.’ I grabbed Sarah and frog-marched her to the opposite side of the room, where Janice was talking to the dancers.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I hissed. ‘This is my job you’re messing with.’
‘She’s a bitch. Did you hear what she said?’
‘Yes, she is and I did, but this party is going to provide a huge pay cheque for Sally and me, so just be quiet and say nothing.’
‘Fine.’ Sarah sat down, took out her phone and started texting.
I turned to Janice. ‘What can we do here? Can you reduce Annabelle’s moves to four or even three and let the other dancers do the complicated stuff around her?’
‘It’ll look ridiculous. She can’t even lift her leg beyond knee height – the other girls’ legs lift right up to their shoulders.’
‘And that’s in a tracksuit – imagine how bad she’s going to be in a corset and skin-tight hot pants.’
Janice started to laugh.
‘Is there any way the dancers could all link arms and kind of pull her along with them?’
‘They could, but it’ll look awful and what do we do when they kick and do the splits?’
‘Well, could she do some kind of twirl and stay standing?’
‘Yes, she could, but I don’t want my name on this. I don’t want people knowing I taught this girl.’
‘I understand where you’re coming from, but Annabelle is only going to do a short entrance dance for thirty seconds, then the can-can girls will do a proper ten-minute routine and you can really show your talent with that.’
‘OK – but if you’re ever looking for a choreographer for a sixteenth birthday again, count me out. It’s taking all my powers of restraint not to slap her.’
‘I know how you feel,’ Sarah piped up.
‘Janice, if you focus on the footwork I’ll deal with Annabelle.’
I went over and told Annabelle the plan. She pouted. ‘I don’t want the dancers showing me up. I’m the star here, not them.’
‘The spotlight will be on you all the time and they’ll be in the background,’ I assured her.
Janice proceeded to teach Annabelle three simple moves that she just about managed, but she was still out of synch with the music.
‘It’s definitely going to be an unforgettable entrance.’ Sarah giggled.
‘It’s like teaching an elephant ballet,’ Janice whispered, as we tried not to laugh.
‘If she wants to humiliate herself, there’s nothing we can do,’ I said. ‘I reckon she’ll split the hot pants doing the high kick, though. I’ll need to warn Madame Sophie.’
Half an hour later, Annabelle was still dancing completely out of time but we had to leave the studio because we had an appointment with Madame Sophie for a final fitting of her outfit. I decided to drop Sarah home on the way. It was safer.
‘Seriously, Mum, how can you work with that bitch?’
‘Sometimes you have to work with difficult people. It’s the same in all jobs. Your dad has to deal with drunks in the pub being abusive and I have to deal with difficult children. Most kids are nice, but you do get the odd one like Annabelle who’s not so easy.’
‘Did you hear her saying that she and Bobby were going to get married? I mean, where does she get off? She’s, like, totally delusional. I texted him straight away and look what he sent back.’ Sarah shoved her phone in front of me.
‘Can you read that in English?’
‘ “Babe, Annabelle is a freak. I wouldn’t touch her never mind marry her. I love you. I wouldn’t go to the party if you paid me. You’re right, she is fat and ugly and you’re hot.” ’
‘Well, I’m glad that’s cleared up.’
‘I wasn’t exactly worried. She’s hardly competition. I don’t understand how she can think she’s hot when she looks like that. Do these people not have mirrors?’ Sarah examined herself admiringly in the car mirror. ‘You either have it or you don’t.’
After dropping Sarah home I drove to meet Annabelle and Wendy at the fitting. I hadn’t seen the outfit before, but Sally had been to the two previous fittings. She had warned me that Annabelle was a sight to behold.
Madame Sophie greeted me like an old friend. ‘Ava, ma belle, ’ow are you?’
‘Good, thanks.’
‘Did your ’usband enjoy ze lingerie?’ she whispered.
‘Very much, thanks. It was a big help.’
‘It ’elps wiz ze sex, no?’
‘Yes, it did. Now, let’s see Annabelle, shall we?’ I changed the subject, not wanting to get the third degree from Sophie about my sex life, which had been neglected again lately, with all the drama over Ali.
‘We ’ave a problem,’ Sophie told me. ‘Annabelle ees too fat for ze ’ot pants. But she insists to wear zem. I tell Sally eet ees not a good idea, but she says zere ees nozzing she can do. Ze girl will look ridiculous.’
‘I know, but Sally’s right – this girl gets whatever this girl wants.’
‘You Irish are much too nice to your childrens. In France we say, “Non,” and zat ees zat. In Hireland, ze childrens dictate to ze parents. Zis ees very bad. Annabelle needs some slaps to ze behind.’
‘Yes, she does, but disciplining her is not our problem. All we need to do is keep her happy until Saturday.’
‘OK, I will say nozzing. But eef eet was my daughter –’
‘Excellent, thanks.’ I cut her off. I didn’t have the time or patience to listen to Sophie’s views on child-rearing. I just wanted to get Annabelle’s outfit sorted before I lost my temper and slapped the bolshy teenager myself.
Sophie went into the dressing room to tie Annabelle into her corset. I could hear grunting, and ‘Ah, non, ce n’est pas possible!’ and ‘Ouch, you’re hurting me, you witch …’
When Annabelle finally came out of the dressing room, I was speechless.
The corset was made of red satin and black lace and her significant cleavage was spilling over the top. You could almost see her nipples. The hot pants were covered with black sequins and were so tight they made her thighs look bigger than they were. She looked like an underage, overweight hooker.
‘I look so hot.’ She beamed into the mirror.
‘I still think the shorts are a mistake. They’re too tight and they don’t flatter you,’ Wendy said to her daughter.
‘What are you saying, Mum? That my legs are fat? Are you? Are you telling me I have fat thighs?’
‘Yes, you do ’ave fat legs,’ Sophie put in. ‘Zey are very fat, so why are you inseesting on showing them? Eet’s ridiculous. Eef you ’ave fat legs you don’t wear ’ot pants.’
‘She does not have fat legs.’ I jumped in. If there was one thing I knew about, it was the importance of a positive body image in teenagers. ‘She has lovely legs. Look, Annabelle, all we’re saying is that maybe they’re a bit short. You’re only sixteen and you are showing a lot of your body in that outfit. You have a wonderful figure, but maybe it’s a bit too much exposure. It’s nice to leave something to the imagination.’
She snorted. ‘I don’t think so. If you have it, flaunt it. When I’m, like, thirty and old and wrinkly, I’ll regret not having shown off my legs. This is what I’m wearing, end of story.’
I bit my tongue. It wasn’t for me to tell her how to dress. I wasn’t her
mother – thank God.
‘OK – but I don’t think Dad will approve,’ Wendy said, playing her ace card.
‘Dad said as long as I’m happy he’s happy. And this is the outfit that makes me happy,’ Annabelle countered.
Wendy caved. ‘All right, we’ll take it.’ With that she got out her black American Express card and spent another fortune on her daughter.
Sophie shrugged and charged an extortionate amount of money for the outfit.
I called Sally on the way home. ‘I need a stiff drink – the girl is a nightmare.’
Sally roared laughing. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be able to handle teenagers? You have two.’
‘Yes, and I’m beginning to really appreciate them. Seriously, that Annabelle needs a good slap. Will you meet me at the Drift Inn in ten minutes? We need to go over some final details with Paul about the cocktail bar anyway, so we can work and drink.’
‘My idea of heaven. See you in ten.’
I hung up and drove to the pub. This was the first time Sally and I had been asked to set up a cocktail bar at a kids’ party, and when I’d asked Paul’s advice on how to organize it, he’d offered to do it himself. He said he wanted to help: he knew the party was a big deal for me and he was glad to be a part of it. He’d been a great help, it was lovely to have him around.
I sat up at the bar and Paul brought me a mojito. ‘You look stressed,’ he said.
‘Honestly, Paul, our girls are angels compared to Annabelle Collins. She is a salutary lesson in why you should never spoil your kids.’
‘Just think, only three more days to go and she’ll be out of your hair and her father’s large cheque will be in your hand.’
‘That part I’m looking forward to.’
‘What part?’ Sally sat down beside me.
‘Getting paid,’ I said.
‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘Speaking of drinks,’ Paul said, ‘I have the specially created Moulin Rouge cocktail here for you to taste.’ He brought over two glasses.
Annabelle wanted champagne cocktails and her parents had agreed but then asked us to make sure they were very weak. They didn’t want the kids getting drunk.
‘Yum – what’s in it?’ I asked.
‘Cranberry juice, red grapefruit juice, a dash of grenadine and a splash of champagne.’
‘It tastes great, Paul, well done.’ Sally was impressed.
‘And they’re weak as requested so the kids won’t be in a heap going home.’
‘Perfect. Now can I have something stronger?’ Sally asked.
‘Mojito?’
‘Lovely.’
Paul made Sally her drink, then went to sort out some problem in the kitchen. I filled Sally in about Annabelle’s dancing.
‘How bad are we talking?’
‘Imagine the worst dancer you’ve ever seen and triple it.’
‘She’s going to humiliate herself.’
‘I know, but she’s adamant about making her grand entrance. At least the dancers can kind of carry her along so maybe it won’t be a total car crash.’
‘Can you imagine what the other kids are going to say? There’s no way all one hundred and thirty of them are her friends – she’ll be slated.’
I shuddered. Teenagers were a cruel bunch – poor Annabelle would indeed be savaged.
‘How did it go with Sophie?’ Sally asked.
‘Worse – the outfit’s a joke. The corset’s beautiful, but she’s falling out of it and the shorts are far too tight. She is literally peeled into them. It’s a good thing she can’t do high kicks because the seams wouldn’t take the pressure.’
We giggled into our drinks.
‘What did Sophie say?’ Sally asked.
‘You know Sophie – subtlety isn’t her strong point. She told Annabelle she had fat legs and shouldn’t be exposing them.’
Sally laughed. ‘Good old Sophie. I like her directness.’
‘She’s direct, all right. I had to dodge her questions about my sex life, or lack thereof. Being there surrounded by lingerie reminded me that I’ve been neglecting my wifely duties – again.’
‘The once-a-week sex that prevents your husband straying.’
‘Exactly, and with all that’s been happening with Ali, sex really hasn’t been a priority.’
‘Of course not. You’ve had so much on your plate. But if you don’t mind my saying, I think you should try to set aside some time for yourselves, for your sanity. You both look worn out. You need to have some fun together.’
‘You’re right. Even Mary Boland told us we had to make time for each other, but there never seems to be any time. All we talk about is Ali, all we think about is Ali.’
‘That’s not healthy, Ava. You have to remember that you’re a person, too. Both you and Paul need to spend some time together as a couple, not as parents. Go out for dinner, get drunk, have fun and shag each other senseless. You need a blow-out. It’ll do you the world of good.’
‘You’re absolutely right, I know, but I feel selfish if I’m not thinking or worrying about Ali. It’s as if I’m letting her down or something.’
Sally put her hands on my shoulders. ‘Ava, you’re allowed to have a life. Yes, Ali’s sick, but she’s getting the best help there is. Worrying every second of the day will not help her. You need to focus on yourself – and Paul and Sarah, too. In the next week I want you to tell me you’ve been out on a date with Paul and had some fun. You deserve it. It’s not going to harm Ali if her parents have a night out. It will harm her if her parents neglect each other and their relationship. OK?’
I nodded. Paul and I did need some time together as a couple … urgently.
47
Three days later it was D Day. Sally and I met out at the Collinses’ house at eight in the morning. The marquee had been set up over the past five days. It was incredible. It had a large entrance hall with a cloakroom and lots of space for a big bar. This led into a huge dining room with a stage and a mirrored dance-floor. Then there was a mezzanine filled with chaise-longues and couches. There were five loos for the girls and three for the boys. The windows and doors were all glass, and a rich red carpet covered the entire floor. Twenty crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. It was like a ballroom.
Sally and I were spending the day overseeing the decorating of the marquee – we helped hang red and black velvet drapes across the room and over each window and door. We dressed the chairs in white crushed velvet covers with big red bows tied at the back. The table centrepieces were six-foot vases, filled with enormous red and black feathers. There was a Moulin Rouge backdrop at one end of the marquee and the movie was to run on a loop all night on a huge screen at the other end. The chandeliers were lit with red bulbs, giving a real boudoir feel.
The bathrooms also had red carpets and were stocked with every product imaginable – hair spray, deodorant, ten different types of perfume, an array of hairbrushes and hairdryers, hair straighteners, curling tongs, instant fake-tan sprays, nail varnish, hand creams, body creams, cleansers, toners, moisturizers, lipsticks, mascaras, eyeliners, eyeshadows, blushers, false eyelashes … Everything was provided.
Paul arrived after lunch with a team of four. They set up a bar on three long trestle tables, which they draped in red velvet. They lined up the red and black cocktail glasses. Each one had a mini feather swizzle stick in it. Paul filled a glass and handed it to me to taste.
‘Yum,’ I said, knocking it back.
‘Easy there, it’s only three o’clock. I don’t want you falling down before the guests arrive.’ He laughed.
‘It’s not very potent. I think I’m safe enough.’
‘Do you need a stronger one?’
‘Not yet, but I definitely will later on.’
‘I’ll make it extra strong.’
‘You have my full permission to get me drunk and take advantage of me.’
‘Really? Fantastic.’ He beamed. I leant over and kissed him.
‘Get a room!’
Sally came up behind us. ‘Paul, you are not allowed distract Ava until the party is over. After that she’s all yours. Come on, Ava, I need your help. The acrobats have arrived.’
We walked over to meet them. I glanced back at Paul – he was staring at my bum. I smiled to myself. He hadn’t done that in a long time.
Sally had flown the aerial artists over from the UK. They had specified that the ceiling had to be seven metres high and they needed at least two rigging points. We helped them get organized and then went to sort out the place names for the tables.
The entrance to the marquee was a huge wooden door with Moulin Rouge across the top, lit by bright bulbs. A red carpet led up to it with two security men dressed like circus ringmasters in red tailcoats manning it.
At seven o’clock, Annabelle and her parents came down to check out the marquee.
‘Wow!’ Annabelle said. Sally and I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Everyone is going to be so jealous of me. Oh, my God, these cocktails are amazing.’ She gulped one down. ‘This is so cool. Mum!’ She dragged Wendy over to watch the trapeze artists rehearsing.
I introduced Paul to Paddy Collins. ‘Very nice to meet you. Well done on the cocktails – they look good and taste weak.’
‘You’ll be happy to hear that there’s barely a quarter of a glass of champagne in each one so you shouldn’t have any kids falling around drunk, unless they sneak the drink in themselves.’
‘They’re being frisked at the door to stop that happening, but there’s bound to be one or two that manage to get some in,’ Paddy said. Then, to Sally and me, he added, ‘Ladies, I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve made Annabelle happy, which is almost impossible, these days. Well done, I’m impressed. I’ll be recommending you to all my friends.’
‘Thanks very much. You have a very nice family,’ I said.
‘I have a wife who can’t say boo to our daughter. And a sixteen-year-old who is spoilt rotten and takes everything for granted. It’s not how I thought things were going to turn out. I always thought I’d have a rake of sons who’d take over the business. But there you go. We were only able to have one child, our little princess, and I’m absolutely mad about her. She has me wrapped around her little finger. I can’t say no to her even though I should.’
Pieces of My Heart Page 34
