Page 51 of Good Sisters

‘Nice of her to show up,’ I muttered to Sophie.

‘Now, who would like a slice?’ Pippa grabbed the knife from Sophie’s hand and completely took over. She handed out slices of cake like the bloody Queen of Sheba and ‘graciously’ accepted the other parents’ thanks for the ‘lovely party’. I stood back, trying not to explode with rage. The absolute neck of her was unbelievable.

‘Oh, you’re so welcome. It was my pleasure,’ Pippa gushed. ‘It’s a big day for Robert.’

I looked around and saw Sophie standing in the corner of the kitchen, watching Pippa soaking up the praise for the party that she had organized and paid for. Sophie looked exhausted and drained. There was no way I was standing by and watching Pippa take credit for all the work my sister had done. No bloody way.

‘I think we all need to give Sophie a big round of applause,’ I shouted, over the noise of the kids munching and the parents chatting. ‘After all, Sophie was the one who organizedthis whole party for Robert on her own, so she deserves a big thank-you.’ I began to clap and everyone joined in.

Pippa glared at me, but I was far beyond caring what a selfish cow like her thought or felt about anything.

I smiled widely at her. ‘I know you’d like to thank Sophie yourself for hosting your son’s birthday party, Pippa. It’s pretty great for you that Robert’s stepmother happens to be such a thoughtful, generous and kind person. You must be so grateful.’

There was a deep, awkward silence as everyone looked from me to Pippa to Sophie, and I could see some of the other mothers suppressing smiles. I reckoned they had the measure of Pippa and her haphazard approach to motherhood. I didn’t speak or move, just stared at Pippa, daring her to say one single thing against my sister.

She gave me the filthiest look imaginable, then said, through a clenched jaw, ‘Thank you, Sophie.’

Sophie nodded at Pippa, then winked at me. Mission accomplished. Devlin sisters 1 – Pippa 0.

Back home that evening, I was wishing I had Sophie there to help me. I deleted the draft message for the tenth time. Come on, Julie, it’s just a bloody WhatsApp message, I told myself. Get a grip. I typed it again, but as my finger hovered over the send button, I hesitated.

Why did I have to organize the stupid scarves and hats anyway? Who thought it was necessary for the team and their parents to wear matching scarves and hats? We’d all look like total dorks.

‘Boys?’ I tried to get the triplets’ attention, but they were arguing over how much protein powder to put into their smoothies.

‘Four big scoops,’ Liam said.

‘No way! That’s too much. Two is the right amount,’ Luke said.

‘For God’s sake, Liam, you’ve used up all the bananas,’ Leo shouted.

Luke punched Liam’s arm. ‘You’re always doing that. I’m sick of having no bananas for my shakes.’

‘Piss off. You finished off the strawberries yesterday.’ Liam punched him back, harder.

‘And the blueberries,’ Leo added.

‘BOYS!’ I shouted.

They turned to me.

‘No need to shout,’ Luke said.

‘Do you think we could just forget about the stupid team hats and scarves this year and let everyone wear whatever they want?’

The all stared at me open-mouthed.

‘What?’

‘Are you mental?’

‘No way.’

I was not expecting that reaction. The boys wore whatever was on the floor of their bedroom, whether it was filthy or not. Sartorial elegance was not at the top of their priority list. I’d presumed they’d immediately agree with me.

‘The squad hats and scarves are a school tradition,’ Liam said.

‘Every team has had them. No way are we not having them,’ Luke added.

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