Mad About You

by Sinéad Moriarty

  I glared at James, but he had reverted to his rugby conversation with his father and hadn’t heard his mother’s comment.

  ‘There is nothing wrong with Lara. She’s actually one of the cleverest kids in her class. Her teacher told me she’s a joy to teach.’ This was a big fat lie. The only thing Miss Timmons had said was that Lara was very spirited, which had sounded more like a negative than a positive.

  Anne looked relieved. ‘Wonderful! I’m so pleased to hear that.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Babs ordering another vodka. She was drinking way too fast.

  Imogen fiddled with her pearl necklace. ‘Has your son grown at all? My goodness, I couldn’t get over how tiny he still is. I said to Anne, “He’s the same size Thomas was when he was two.” He’ll be a midget if he doesn’t grow. Have you thought about growth hormones?’

  ‘There was a fellow in school with me who was small. He became the most fantastic jockey.’ Henry tried to be helpful.

  ‘Yuri is growing at a normal and healthy pace.’ I was furious with Imogen. I could feel sweaty patches forming under my arms. At this rate, I wouldn’t make it to the starter without throwing something at her.

  ‘Normal!’ Imogen snorted. ‘He’s the smallest four-year-old I’ve ever seen. Of course, his mother was probably a drug-addicted prostitute. I saw a documentary on those Russian orphanages. They showed the mothers abandoning their children on the doorstep. They were utterly appalling women. I’d say most of the children are completely damaged and will end up addicted to drugs, too.’

  There was a silence and everyone looked uncomfortable. I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth – I’d either start screaming or crying. It was Babs who reacted first: ‘Does that mean your mother looked like the back of a horse, had a voice like a foghorn and insulted everyone she ever met?’

  I loved my sister.

  ‘How dare you –’

  Babs drained yet another drink. ‘How dare I what? Insult you? If you can dish it out, you should be able to take it. You’ve just been rude about my niece and nephew and I’m not having it. They’re amazing kids.’

  ‘Henry,’ Imogen snapped, ‘are you going to let her insult me?’

  ‘You were a tad harsh,’ Henry noted, as his wife glared at him.

  James addressed Imogen: ‘Emma is Yuri’s mother and the person he loves most in the world. The woman who gave birth to him may have been a prostitute or she may have been a sweet young girl who was unable to look after him. It doesn’t matter, because we are his parents and he is our son. He may never grow to be six feet tall, but he is a giant in our eyes.’

  ‘Well said.’ Babs patted him on the back.

  I blinked furiously to stop the tears falling down my cheeks. This was the James I knew and loved. This was the man I had married.

  Jonathan cleared his throat. ‘Shall we take our seats and order?’

  ‘I’ll keep my mouth shut, shall I? Apparently I’m not allowed to have an opinion this evening,’ Imogen grumbled, as we headed to the table.

  The rest of the meal went relatively smoothly. We kept the conversation on safe ground – sport, books and theatre. Babs, however, continued to drink at a fast pace and kept telling us that her favourite book was Fifty Shades of Grey and winking at Jonathan, who didn’t know where to look. I kept pouring her water and trying to get her to drink some.

  At coffee, James politely asked how Thomas was getting on at boarding school.

  ‘Marvellously,’ Imogen barked.

  ‘Not well,’ Henry said, at the same time.

  My ears pricked up. I wasn’t letting this one go. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that, Henry. What’s going on?’

  Henry put his coffee cup down. ‘I’m afraid he’s on a final warning.’

  ‘What?’ Anne, Jonathan and James looked shocked. Clearly this was bad.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Babs asked. ‘Is he getting expelled?’

  ‘Henry!’ Imogen’s face was purple. ‘Stop this nonsense. Thomas is fine.’

  I was enjoying every minute of her discomfort.

  ‘Imogen, this is our family. We can be honest with them.’ Henry turned to Babs. ‘Final warning means that if he misbehaves again, he’ll be expelled, yes.’

  ‘Expelled!’ I gasped loudly for effect. ‘Wow, that really is serious. What did he do?’

  ‘I had no idea.’ Anne frowned and looked upset. ‘We thought Thomas was thriving at St David’s. Imogen told us so.’

  ‘Apparently not,’ Babs said, grinning.

  ‘He’s been bullying one of the other boys. Tormenting the poor chap on a daily basis apparently.’ Henry was clearly crestfallen that his ten-year-old son was such a tosser.

  ‘Are you sure?’ James asked. ‘Could the boy be exaggerating or maybe out to get Thomas?’

  ‘Fat chance.’ Babs snorted. ‘That kid needs a firm hand.’

  ‘My Thomas wouldn’t hurt a fly,’ Imogen spluttered. ‘What the hell would you know about children anyway?’

  I held my breath and watched Babs carefully, ready to pounce if she lost her cool.

  ‘I may not have children,’ Babs said, slowly and deliberately, ‘but I know that they need boundaries and discipline. That kid of yours was wild from a young age and you never said no to him. Now he’s obviously turning into a horrible person. If you don’t deal with it, he’ll end up in big trouble. Why don’t you get your head out of your arse and face the fact that your son is out of order and needs discipline? Stop criticizing everyone else and get your own house in order.’

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that? Who the hell do you think you are, coming into my family and insulting me?’

  ‘Emma, Yuri and Lara are my family and you’ve insulted them all.’

  ‘Now, ladies, let’s not argue. This is, after all, Mother and Father’s anniversary dinner,’ Henry reminded us.

  Imogen looked as if she was going to explode. Anne quietly told her to keep her cool.

  ‘What exactly has Thomas been doing?’ I asked Henry, determined to hear the full story.

  ‘Oh, the usual bully stuff, calling the other child names, giving him wedgies, kicking him, stealing all the food from his tuck box … But last week Thomas tripped him on the stairs and the poor fellow broke two ribs. We’ve had a terrible time with his parents. They’re threatening to sue us.’

  ‘Thomas said it was an accident. It was not his fault,’ Imogen snapped.

  ‘Do they have a case?’ James asked. ‘Witnesses?’

  ‘Thankfully, no,’ Henry said. ‘It was just the two of them. So it’s the boy’s word against Thomas’s. But I know he did it.’

  ‘Henry!’ Imogen was apoplectic.

  ‘He’s a brat,’ Henry admitted.

  ‘Now, now, Henry, let’s not be too harsh.’ Jonathan defended his grandson. ‘Thomas is a lively boy, I’ll grant you that, but he’s not a bad chap.’

  ‘No, he’s just a little boisterous. But all boys are energetic at that age,’ Anne added.

  I jumped in. ‘What are you going to do?’ I wasn’t in the least surprised that Thomas was a bully. Babs was right: he had been a brat since the day he was born and Imogen never gave out to him or told him to stop. I was surprised at Henry, but he worked long hours so it was Imogen who spent most time with the kids.

  ‘He’s been told in no uncertain terms that unless he pulls his socks up and is nice to this boy and all the other boys, he’ll be expelled. If that happens, I’ve threatened to send him to Scotland to a boarding school for young offenders.’

  ‘Really?’ That sounded a bit harsh.

  ‘Sounds perfect. Sign him up.’

  ‘Babs, zip it,’ James said. Then he smiled at his brother. ‘Is it the school Father was going to send us to?’

  Henry smiled. ‘The very same.’

  James explained, ‘Whenever we misbehaved, Father told us he’d send us to a special boarding school in the wilds of Scotland. It was only in later life that we discovered it didn’t exis
t.’

  Jonathan laughed. ‘Well, it worked. You never gave me any trouble. And I dare say it will work on young Thomas, too.’

  I glanced at Imogen. She was sitting with her arms folded, glowering at Henry. He’d get an earful when they got home.

  ‘Well, I hope it all sorts itself out,’ I said, trying to be kind, for Henry’s sake.

  ‘It already has,’ Imogen snapped. ‘The whole affair is behind us. I really don’t know why Henry felt the need to bring it up. Thomas was wrongly accused and he knows now that he has to be careful. This nasty boy is clearly out to cause trouble. He’s jealous of Thomas because he’s so popular and good at sports. That’s what happens when you’re a star pupil. Other students envy you and want to drag you down.’

  Babs shook her head. ‘Delusional,’ she said.

  Henry looked sad. ‘That’s simply not the case, Imogen. Thomas is a spoilt boy who needs discipline.’

  Imogen’s fist slammed onto the table, making us all jump. ‘You lay one hand on that child and I will divorce you.’

  ‘Imogen!’ It was Anne’s turn to be shocked.

  ‘Lucky escape, if you ask me. Go home and wallop the kid,’ Babs muttered.

  I realized that my marriage wasn’t the only one with problems. Imogen glowered at Henry. The tension at the table was horrible.

  ‘Why don’t we change the subject? Children are a very emotive topic,’ Anne said lightly. She couldn’t cope with anger or confrontation.

  ‘Quite right,’ Jonathan said. ‘Tell me, James, who do you think they’ll pick to play scrum-half for England this year?’

  While the others talked about rugby and Imogen stomped off to the Ladies, Henry leant in to me. ‘How are things?’ he asked.

  ‘Not great. More texts and parcels, and now she’s texting my phone too. It’s frightening, to be honest.’

  ‘James called me about getting in touch with the police. I asked around, but everyone I spoke to said you’ll probably need more evidence before the police will get involved.’

  ‘I’m scared she’s going to attack me.’

  ‘I got the name of a private detective I’m trying to track down. It might be the best route. If he can find out who it is, we could stop them.’

  I squeezed his hand. ‘That would be great.’

  ‘I must say, James is very upset. He was really most distressed on the phone. I can assure you, Emma, this is no affair. James is innocent, but for some reason a woman, or indeed a man, has become fixated on him.’

  I was so glad Henry had said that. It made it easier for me to believe James. ‘Thanks, Henry. Listen, I’m sorry about my sister. She’s drunk and she’s had a bad week. I hope Imogen is all right.’

  Henry smiled ruefully. ‘Emma, we both know that my wife has skin as thick as an elephant’s. I find your sister most entertaining.’

  ‘Well, it’s getting late, we really should be going,’ Anne said, clearly dying to get away from us all. It had been a fairly unusual anniversary dinner, that was for sure.

  Babs looked at her watch. ‘Ah, come on, Mrs H, I know you’re old, but it’s only ten. Live a little, stay up until ten thirty.’

  Anne gave Babs one of her tight, disapproving smiles. ‘Goodnight, Barbara.’ To me, she said, ‘I’ll call you soon, Emma dear.’

  Imogen stood up, too.

  ‘Let’s have a nightcap and then we’ll go,’ Henry suggested hopefully.

  ‘Nightcap? Come on, guys, what age are you? It’s only ten.’ Babs giggled.

  ‘Henry,’ Imogen hissed, ‘we’re leaving. Now.’

  Henry sighed and got up. He said his goodbyes and followed his wife out of the door.

  ‘That poor guy is so bitch-slapped,’ Babs said.

  ‘Interesting evening,’ James noted. ‘Nice of you to come and mix it up a bit, Babs.’

  ‘Your family are the dullest people ever. At least Imogen has a bit of spark about her. Your parents are –’

  ‘James doesn’t need his family to be insulted. Drop it,’ I warned her.

  ‘Fine. Order me another drink,’ she said.

  ‘OK, but then we’re going home, I’m tired.’ I stifled a yawn.

  ‘Me too,’ James said.

  Babs slapped her forehead. ‘Oh, my God, you guys are killing me. Have some self-respect. Go crazy and stay out until eleven. It won’t kill you.’

  At ten thirty, Babs fell asleep on the table …

  27

  On Monday morning Babs was up early, banging on my bedroom door to have her makeup done. She wanted to look really good so she could face Gary with confidence. She’d gone shopping on Sunday afternoon and bought herself an indigo jumpsuit that looked incredible on her.

  ‘I want smoky eyes,’ she demanded. ‘I’m going to strut into that studio and own it. To hell with Gary! He’s just a slimy git. I must have been mad to sleep with him.’

  ‘How do you think you’ll react when you see him?’ I asked.

  Babs flicked back her hair. ‘Don’t worry, I know exactly how to handle him.’

  When we got to work, Gary came straight up to Babs. He pulled her to one side and I heard him whisper, ‘Did you make a decision?’

  Babs looked at him quizzically. ‘What decision?’

  Gary gripped her arm. ‘You know what I mean.’

  Babs prised her arm out of his grip and smiled brightly at him. ‘Sorry, Gary, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You must be mixing me up with someone else.’ With that she sauntered off to talk to Karen, leaving Gary clearly worried.

  He caught my eye. I looked away and smiled to myself. Babs was playing it so well. She was going to let him sweat it out until he eventually realized, when her stomach didn’t expand, that the pregnancy was over. I was very proud of my little sister.

  That night, Babs offered to babysit to thank me for looking after her, and I went to meet Lucy for an early dinner at a tapas bar in Fulham. As I was leaving the house, Lucy sent a text: Sod tapas, am treating u to posh drinks in Berkeley hotel. See u in 20 mins. That sounded good to me. As I was walking to the tube I received another text: I said go back to Ireland. Now go! I spun around, looking to see if anyone was following me. Then I ran all the way to the tube, trembling.

  In Knightsbridge, I walked quickly to the Berkeley. On the way I decided to try hard not to let that text ruin my night. I had to be strong. I arrived into the Blue Bar, which was very blue and full of gorgeous people. Lucy was waiting for me, looking stylish, as always, in a black shift dress.

  ‘It’s so good to see you.’ I hugged her tightly.

  ‘You too. You’ve lost weight.’

  ‘Have I?’ I hadn’t noticed. ‘It must be the stalker diet.’ I sighed. ‘Come on, let’s order some cocktails. We need to blow off steam.’ Lucy ordered two mojitos.

  ‘Make mine a really strong one,’ I told the barman.

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. ‘So, more texts?’

  I nodded. ‘And that’s the least of it. She’s still sending me things.’

  ‘You’re saying “she” now?’

  ‘Has to be,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I’ve received the vibrator and a set of handcuffs delivered to the house. And I’m now getting texts to my own mobile, which means somehow this person has that number as well.’

  Lucy looked very concerned. ‘God, Emma, that’s kind of … creepy,’ she said. ‘Have you thought about reporting it?’

  I sighed. ‘Henry’s helping us. He’s getting in touch with a private detective. We’re hoping he’ll help us track this nutter down.’

  ‘Oh, Emma …’ Lucy’s voice was full of sympathy, and it was hard for me not to start crying on her shoulder. ‘How is James reacting to it?’

  The waiter delivered our drinks. I twirled the mint leaves around my mojito. ‘He seems very angry. But I just don’t know what to believe any more. I keep lurching from believing he’s innocent to feeling paranoid about him cheating on me. I feel like I’m going a bit mad. I’m looking over my shoulder every tim
e I leave the house. I don’t know what this woman is going to do next. It’s sex toys now, but what will it be next month? Knives? Acid? You should see the stuff on the Internet about stalkers. It’s really frightening.’

  Lucy wagged a finger at me. ‘Emma, stay away from the Internet.’

  ‘I just don’t know who or what to believe. I’m second-guessing myself all the time. I feel very alone actually.’ I took a drink to stop the lump forming in my throat.

  ‘I’m here for you,’ Lucy said. ‘And don’t you see your sister in work every day?’

  I nodded, but the truth was that I felt alone. Everyone was so busy and under so much pressure. The person I usually talked to about everything – James – was the cause of all this stress. Lucy and Babs had their own problems and worries. And my other close friend, Jess, was under huge financial pressure so I didn’t want to burden her either.

  ‘Well, Babs has a lot going on at the moment.’ I didn’t want to tell Lucy about the pregnancy, although I felt she’d probably agree with Babs’s decision. ‘I just don’t know what to do about the stalker. It’s beginning to cause a rift between James and me.’

  Lucy ordered some wine and the waiter brought it over and poured us a small glass each.

  ‘We have to think logically about it, Emma. This woman has to be someone you or James knows. Have you checked out the woman he mentioned in work?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Emma!’ Lucy threw her hands into the air. ‘I told you to suss her out. She has to be prime suspect number one until you know otherwise.’

  ‘I know, but James said Harriet is pregnant, so I counted her out.’

  Lucy was incredulous. ‘Pregnant? Emma, pregnant women can be totally nuts. With all the hormones flying around, it could easily be her.’

  ‘I don’t think a pregnant woman would be stalking us,’ I said doubtfully.

  ‘Why not? Just because she’s pregnant doesn’t mean she wouldn’t fancy James. You have to go and see this Harriet. You need to see her for yourself to decide if she’s a suspect or not. Get all dressed up and just “pop by” the training ground.’