Page 21 of Good Sisters

‘It’s a good thing I’ve been studying the game. I’ll be ready for those rugby dads now. I’ve a proper handle on it.’

Poor Harry. Having gone to a very ordinary school that barely had a patch of concrete to kick a football around, he was overawed by Castle Academy and its rolling rugby pitches, swimming pool, gym, squash courts, tennis courts and basketball court. He was also intimidated by the confident fathers, most of them former pupils of the school, who strode about as if they owned the place, talking about rugby like experts.

Personally, I thought the school was a bit over the top, but when Harry had inherited the money from his aunt, he’d wanted the boys to go to the best school, and he’d heard good things about this one. Mum said Harry was right to invest money in the boys’ education, that it was the best money he’d ever spend. To be fair she had a point, and the pupils did get very good results in their final exams.

I found a lot of the school parents intimidating, though, especially the mothers. Glossy, groomed, assertive women who were forces to be reckoned with. Castle Academy seemed to breed Tiger Mums. ‘Don’t mind their air of confidence, Julie,’ Mum said. ‘Sure everyone has troubles in life. No one has it easy all the time.’ She might have been right, but they hid their problems well and always seemed on top of everything, unlike me: I was a last-minute kind of person.

‘Please tell me Sebastian Carter-Mills isn’t on the team?’ I said to Harry.

‘Sorry, Julie, he’s a sub. You’ll have to suffer Victoria on the sidelines and I’ll have to listen to Gerry lecturing me on the finer points of rugby.’

I put my pillow over my face. ‘Nooooo. She’s insufferable.’

‘Just ignore her,’ Harry said. Not even the Carter-Millses were going to ruin his buzz.

Harry came over and pulled the pillow off my face. ‘Andthe best news is … Are you ready for this? Brace yourself, Julie.’

Oh, God, what now? Harry’s idea of brilliant news and mine were poles apart. He considered a hole-in-one on a golf course to be the Second Coming of Christ. I thought an afternoon in bed watchingThe Real Housewives of Beverly Hillswhile eating a family pack of Maltesers was a slice of pure Heaven.

‘Go on.’

‘The triplets have been made joint captains, or whatever the collective noun for three people sharing one job is. They’re going to be leading the team on and off the pitch. It’s a huge responsibility and you and I, as parents of the captains, will be setting up the WhatsApp group and sending out all the communications to the parents, arranging group meetings, activities and acting as go-betweens and buffers between the coaches and the parents.’

I gasped.What?Was he serious? ‘Jesus Christ, Harry, that’s a nightmare. I don’t want to be involved in the bloody team WhatsApp group, never mind run it.’

Harry grinned. ‘It’ll be great, Julie! We’ll be in the thick of it all. Don’t worry, I’ll do most of it. You’ll just have to organize hosting the party.’

I sat bolt upright. Did he just say party?

‘What party? What hosting?’

‘It’s tradition, every year the captain’s parents host a party for the team, the other parents and the coaches before the season kicks off.’

‘Please tell me you’re winding me up right now.’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘So, you’re telling me, super-casually, that I have to organize a party in our house for a bunch of random parents I barely know and the coaches?’

‘Yes, and the boys.’

I wanted to cry. ‘When?’

‘In about a month’s time.’

‘How many people?’

‘Probably about ninety, maybe more.’

I lay back and put the pillow over my head again. As happy as I was for my boys, I did not want to be involved in any WhatsApp group. I hated them. And now I was going to have to host events in my house! I had kept away from the school as much as I could – the boys had got into a bit of mischief when they’d first started and we’d been called in to see the headmaster a few times. But once they’d settled, I’d kept my head firmly down. I dropped the boys to school, picked them up and watched their matches, if it wasn’t too cold or raining. That was it.

I was very deliberately not involved in any other aspect of their school life. I avoided committees and parents’ associations like the plague. I even hated the school information meetings. I found it all far too intense. You always had one or two parents who took over and tried to bend everyone, including the teachers and headmaster, to their will. Then you had the parents who asked questions just so they could boast about their kids: ‘Excuse me, Headmaster, but Johnny has cello masterclass/worldwide debating champion club/European tennis training/Olympic rowing coaching five nights a week so he can’t attend the chess lesson on Tuesdays and lead the chess team to victory in the national finals, as he would do if he didn’t have cello masterclass/worldwide debating champion club/European tennis training/Olympic rowing coaching, blah blah blah …’ I just felt out of my comfort zone, so I avoided the school and it had worked perfectly for me – up to now.

I groaned into the pillow. This was going to be a long, long year.

Christelle sat at the counter, cutting up strawberries for the pavlova. She was so helpful and wonderful. I was glad that after four boys I’d got to have this bonus stepdaughter. I’d never have had Harry down for a one-night-stand kind of guy, and I’d never have thought I’d be grateful for it, but here we were: his college summer fling had produced this gorgeous young woman, and I was so happy to have her in our lives.

‘That smells good,’ Christelle said, as I plonked the large casserole dish down on the counter.

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