Page 53 of Good Sisters

We want quality, though, not scratchy wool that the boys won’t wear.

Stick to merino, cashmere, alpaca or lamb’s wool.

I find lamb’s wool can be a bit itchy. Julian has very sensitive skin and is prone to eczema, I’d be happier with cashmere.

As I said, it has to be cashmere.[Victoria again.]I will happily take on the sourcing of appropriate accessories for the team.

No need. I’ll have a look around and see what I can source locally.

‘And fuck off, you snobby, condescending bitch,’ I hissed at the phone.

‘Who are you shouting at?’ Liam asked.

‘Stupid parents banging on about different types of wool. Seriously, a hat is a hat.’

‘Don’t fight with the parents, Mum. Just chill,’ Luke said.

‘It’s just some hats and scarves. There’s no need to lose it, Mum.’ Leo put a huge scoop of protein powder into the Nutribullet.

That was the sodding point. It should be just hats and scarves but it wasn’t because of a few ridiculous parents. It was a bloody minefield of skin sensitivity, school image, exact colour-matching, snobbery and general fuck-wittery.

I was definitely going to ring Sophie for help. Over my dead body was I ordering expensive cashmere from London to wear at the side of a rainy rugby pitch in Dublin.

When Harry came home from his business dinner, I was already in bed searching woolly hat websites. As he sat down to take off his shoes, he was subjected to me ranting and raging about Cashmere-gate. I presumed he’d have seen the messages and be firmly on my side.

‘We need to be careful, Julie. We can’t rock the boat. We don’t want to bring any negativity on us because it might affect the boys.’

I sat up. ‘Do you honestly think that the coach is going to penalize the boys because their sensible mother decided not to bankrupt the parents by getting expensive hats and scarves?’

Harry pulled off his socks. ‘No, but parents can cause trouble and we need to keep the peace for the boys. Please run any future texts by me before sending them out on the WhatsApp group.’

What? Was he for real? Was I five years old?

‘For God’s sake, Harry, I don’t need you to read my texts. I need you to support me.’

‘Julie, we have about three months of a campaign left, if the team does well. Can you please just stay calm and do not wind up any of the parents. If they want stupid cashmere hats, get them. I’ll happily subsidize the cost if that makes you feel better.’

‘Well, brace yourself because cashmere is very expensive.’

‘How expensive?’

‘Eighty quid a hat. Sterling, not euros.’

‘That’s extortion!’

‘Told you.’

‘See if you can find a compromise, something everyone is happy with,’ he suggested, as he pulled on his pyjama bottoms. ‘On the subject of the team, how are the plans for Saturday coming along?’

I had totted up the guest list and it came to ninety-four people.

‘I’m going to say again that I totally disagree with this,’ I said. ‘It’s a massive undertaking for any captain’s parents for no real reason and no gain. It’s okay for us because we have a big house and we can afford it, but what if it was the old us, Harry? In our small house with no extra money?’

‘The boys wouldn’t be going to Castle Academy if we were in the old house. We had no money for school fees.’

‘Okay, but some people are making huge sacrifices to pay the fees and don’t have spare cash to host big parties. Why does all this tradition have to be followed? Why can’t we break the cycle and make it fairer and more equitable?’

‘Julie, we’ve had this conversation. I understand what you want to do and the reasoning behind it, but we have to put the boys first and that means rowing in with tradition.’

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