Me and My Sisters by Sinéad Moriarty Read Free Book Online

so kind.’ Mum kissed Sophie too. ‘What did your husband get you?’
    Sophie showed her the watch. Mum gasped. ‘It’s magnificent.’
    ‘He really spoilt me today.’
    ‘What was last year’s diamond necklace? A trinket?’ Harry grumbled.
    I pinched his arm. ‘Ssh.’
    ‘He can’t hear me, Julie. He’s too busy telling your parents how much money he made.’
    ‘He can’t help being loaded,’ I reminded my husband.
    ‘Do you think Jack had a good year?’ Louise whispered, failing to suppress a grin.
    ‘I’m not sure, Louise. It’s very hard to tell,’ Harry drawled, getting up to change Tom’s nappy.
    ‘I know – he’s so subtle.’
    ‘The watch is pretty incredible,’ I said.
    ‘It’s completely over the top.’ Louise snorted. ‘They live in suburban Dublin, not Beverly Hills. You could clear the debt of an African country with the money he spent on that.’
    Sophie got up to take Jess to the toilet and Jack went to talk to the triplets. He was good with the boys: he knew how to talk to them on their level.
    Mum came over to where we were sitting. ‘Did you hear what they gave us?’
    ‘Yes, it’s great,’ I enthused.
    ‘I’ve always wanted to play in Valderrama. And look,’ she pointed to the brochure, ‘they’ve booked us into a suite. Can you imagine? It must have cost a fortune. Sophie did well for herself, marrying someone so generous. She’s so successful.’
    ‘At what exactly?’ Louise asked. ‘Spending her husband’s money?’
    Mum frowned. ‘At everything she does – at modelling and at her marriage. You might take a leaf out of her book. She knows how to get a man and keep him happy. Jack adores her.’
    ‘Come on, Mum,’ Louise said, ‘you don’t measure someone’s success by the size of their husband’s wallet. It relates to personal achievement.’
    ‘And some people put far too much emphasis on career success and not enough on romantic success,’ Mum snapped.
    Mum and Louise had always fought. I think Mum was a bit intimidated by her eldest daughter. Louise had been difficult to parent when she was a teenager. She was constantly challenging Mum on everything and she never backed down: Louise was always right. She’d been fiercely independent and unemotional. From the age of about thirteen, Louise hadn’t needed parents. At school she’d made all her own decisions and waged all her own battles. She’d mellowed a bit as she got older, but her relationship with Mum had always been fraught. In fact, the only person who really saw her softer side was me: we were close in age – there were only twenty months between us – and we wanted completely different things from life so there was no competitive edge. We’d also shared a bedroom growing up, so she’d got used to confiding in me.
    Thankfully, she also listened to me, and her Christmas presents for the boys were very welcome. She’d bought them the full set of Peter Rabbit books by Beatrix Potter.
    ‘Boring!’ Leo said.
    ‘Rabbits are for babies.’ Liam pouted.
    ‘That’s not a present,’ Luke announced.
    ‘Yes, it is,’ I hissed. ‘Say thank you to your auntie Louise.’
    ‘Books are not presents.’ Luke dug his heels in.
    ‘Yes, they are,’ I reminded him. ‘Say thank you, now.’ I gave him my do-not-mess-with-me-or-you-will-never-watch-TV-again stare.
    ‘Thank you,’ he mumbled.
    There was no lack of enthusiasm when Sophie gave them her present. But it left me in a rage. I had asked her repeatedly to get the boys something small because we had no space, but she had produced three remote-control monster trucks. I know I shouldn’t get annoyed about my sister’s generosity but, unlike her, we didn’t have a playroom so the bloody trucks would end up in the TV room or the kitchen. She always does it: every year she has to buy the biggest, most over-the-top presents. It drives me nuts. We know Jack’s loaded. We get it.
    ‘Monster trucks!’ the triplets shouted. ‘AWESOME!’