PROLOGUE

She switched off her electric toothbrush and listened. She could hear her husband shouting. He sounded panicked. Oh, my God, they were being robbed. She looked around the bathroom for a weapon. The only thing she could see was the toilet brush. She crept over to the door, opened it slowly and jumped out, shouting, ‘Leave him alone!’

Instead of coming face to face with a balaclava-wearing thief, Anne found herself in front of a naked woman. She stared over at George, who was sitting bolt upright in bed, eyes wide with shock.

The young woman let out a bloodcurdling scream.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Anne shrieked.

‘For the love of God, will you get her a towel or something?’ George hissed.

‘Who is she?’ Anne snapped.

‘I’ve no bloody idea. I woke up and found her stumbling around at the end of the bed.’

The bedroom door burst open and their son, Gavin, charged in, naked and dishevelled.

‘Shit!’ he exclaimed, rushing to the woman. ‘She was looking for the loo.’
‘Sorry!’ the girl said, trying desperately to cover her breasts and nether regions with her hands.

‘No problem, easy mistake to make,’ George said. To his wife, he added, ‘You can put that down now ‒ we’re not in any danger. Good thinking, though! A plastic toilet brush would have provided great protection.’

‘This is Amelia,’ Gavin said.
‘Annalise,’ she corrected him.

‘Christ,’ George muttered.

‘Really?’ Gavin frowned. ‘I was sure it was Amelia.’

‘No, Annalise.’

‘Right, sorry.’

‘When you two have finished having your little catch-up, perhaps you might consider putting some bloody clothes on!’ Anne suggested.

‘There’s no need to be rude, Mum.’ Gavin looked offended.

He pulled Annalise from the bedroom. As she left, she gave them a wave. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too.’ George smiled.

As they watched the naked lovebirds scamper across the landing, Anne turned to her husband. ‘You can stop staring at her bottom now, George.’

‘I was just keeping an eye on the poor girl to make sure she didn’t get lost again.’

‘Poor girl? She’s the most brazen hussy I ever met. The cheek of her saying, “Nice to meet you,” while she’s bare-arsed in our bedroom!’

‘How does Gavin get these girls? He’s a complete gobshite.’

Anne bristled. ‘He is not. He’s handsome and charming and –’

George cut across her, ‘Unemployed and penniless and going nowhere fast.’

‘You’re too hard on him. He’s just finding his way.’

‘He’s not going to find it having sex with women whose names he can’t remember.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Anne said. ‘The poor boy hasn’t figured out what his path in life is yet.’

‘How long is it going to take? He left university five years ago!’

‘He’ll get there soon enough.’

‘You have him ruined,’ George muttered. ‘Spoilt rotten. The girls were never this lazy. It’s ridiculous. I was running my own company at his age.’

‘These are different times.’

‘His sisters all had jobs at his age too!’ George pointed out. ‘He needs a kick up the arse.’

‘Don’t get all het up. If you have a heart attack you’ll have to make your own way to hospital. I’m not missing Julie’s lunch. I’m dying to see the new house. Apparently it’s stunning.’

Three hours later

George parked beside the brand new Jaguar in the driveway.

‘Is that Harry’s new car?’ Gavin asked.

‘Yes.’ Anne sniffed, ‘It’s very flashy. I think the money’s gone a bit to his head.’

‘It’s awesome!’ Gavin exclaimed.

They walked up the huge stone steps to Julie and Harry’s new house. Gavin whistled. ‘It’s a bloody mansion.’

They rang the bell and heard a commotion inside. It was the triplets fighting over who would open the door. Losing patience, Anne bent down and shouted through the letterbox, ‘Stop bickering and let us in.’

The door swung open as the three boys continued to wrestle. While Gavin and his father tried to prise them apart, Anne stepped over them and walked into the vast kitchen where her three daughters were sitting up at the marble counter.

Harry rushed over to greet his mother-in-law, then handed her a glass into which he made a big show of pouring Dom Pérignon.

‘Oh, this is very decadent. Thank you, Harry.’

‘Well, we’re celebrating so I wanted to push the boat out.’

‘I’d forgotten how good it tastes.’ Sophie savoured it. ‘I miss great champagne.’

‘I don’t see the difference. Prosecco would have been fine.’ Julie looked cross.

Sophie placed a hand on her sister’s arm. ‘Relax and enjoy it, Julie.’

Gavin came in. ‘Dude, this gaff is like something on MTV Cribs. I need an old aunt to die and leave me money. Harry, you are one lucky guy.’

George followed his son. ‘Nice place, Julie. You’d need a map to find your way around.’

‘A bit like Gavin’s friend this morning, who got lost,’ Anne said.
Louise rolled her eyes. ‘What’s Gavin done now?’

‘Unbeknown to your father and me, he brought a fast girl home last night. This morning, she lost her way and ended up in our bedroom ‒ naked.’

‘Oh, my God! What did you do?’ Julie tried not to laugh.

‘Well, your mother thought it was a robber and came thundering out of the bathroom to fight him with a toilet brush.’

They all laughed.

‘What did you do, Dad?’ Louise asked.

‘He stared a lot,’ Anne huffed.

‘Was she hot?’ Sophie wondered.

‘Well, I couldn’t say. I tried to avert my eyes,’ George protested.

‘He was totally checking her out, the old perv.’ Gavin chuckled.

‘His eyes were out on sticks,’ Anne added.

‘Not a bad sight to wake up to.’ Harry laughed. ‘Better than Julie’s fleecy pyjamas.’

‘You don’t actually wear those, do you?’ Louise asked.

‘They’re comfortable.’ Julie shrugged.

‘You have to ditch them. You need fabulous new gear for your new bedroom suite. I’ll take you shopping,’ Sophie offered. ‘La Perla do amazing pieces.’

‘That stuff costs a fortune,’ Julie said.
‘Julie, you’re loaded. You can buy anything you want,’ Sophie reminded her.

Julie blushed and changed the subject. ‘Is anyone hungry? Harry insisted on ordering a ridiculous amount of food from some posh caterer so we have tons.’

While the others made their way to the table, Louise pulled Julie aside. ‘Look, I know having money is new to you, but you need to enjoy it. Stop being so defensive ‒ we’re all thrilled for you.’

Julie’s eyes filled. ‘I just feel … embarrassed about all this. It seems so over the top.’

‘Julie, you of all people deserve it. Besides,’ Louise said, watching as the triplets started a water fight, ‘the boys will trash it and make it feel like home in no time.’
Julie squeezed her sister’s arm. ‘You’re right. Is Clara OK?’

Louise turned to look at her little daughter, who was curled up on the couch with her fingers in her ears, reading a book. ‘She’s not used to so much noise.’

There was an almighty crash as one of the triplets rugby-tackled his brother and knocked over a platter of food.

Julie ushered them out into the garden.

Anne shook her head. ‘They are pure wild. They need a firm hand.’

‘They’re just high-spirited,’ Harry said. ‘Besides, they’ll be calmer once school starts tomorrow. You know, Castle Academy’s considered the best in the country ‒ the sports facilities are second to none.’

‘I think that’s the tenth time he’s mentioned it,’ George whispered.

‘Are the triplets excited?’ Sophie asked Harry, trying to cover her father’s mumblings.

‘Not as excited as their father,’ Julie muttered.

‘Incredibly excited. They can’t wait,’ Harry enthused. ‘The best thing about coming into money is being able to give the boys the best education.’

‘I want to go to Castle Academy with the boys,’ Tom said, pulling at his mother’s leg.

Julie picked up her youngest son and kissed him. ‘I know, pet, but you can’t go until you’re seven.’
Sophie’s phone beeped. She read the message and her face fell.

‘What’s wrong?’ Julie asked.

‘Jess wants to stay with Jack and Pippa tonight. She’s supposed to come home at six. I always do a movie night on Sunday and get her to bed early for school. But now she’s begging to stay. If I say no, I’ll be the worst mother in the world. I’m sick of it ‒ she never wants to be with me any more. It’s all about Jack and Pippa.’

‘Oh, Sophie, that’s rotten.’

She sighed. ‘Yes, it bloody is. I need to meet someone so I can move on with my life.’

Julie patted her shoulder. ‘You will, you’re gorgeous.’

Harry clinked his glass. ‘I just want to make a toast. Welcome, all of you, to our new home. Julie and I are starting a very exciting chapter in our lives and I know it’s going to be a lot better than before.’

Julie looked down into her glass of expensive champagne. She’d liked her old life. She’d been very happy. All this change frightened her. What was this next chapter going to bring?

 

Chapter 1-  Julie

 

I swirled my porridge around the bowl and breathed deeply to try to calm my thumping heart. It was ridiculous. I had no reason to be so nervous. It wasn’t a big deal. I needed to get a grip and try not to be intimidated.

The triplets tumbled into the kitchen, kicking a football to each other. Luke picked up the ball and sat with it on his lap. God forbid he’d let it out of his sight for even a minute. Leo’s polyester Ronaldo football jersey was sticking out from under his uniform and Liam was spouting football statistics.

‘Did you know that Alan Shearer is the top Premier League goal scorer since 1992? He scored 260 goals.’

‘Wow!’ Tom said, following them into the kitchen. At five years of age, he thought everything his brothers said and did was wonderful. ‘Who’s the second best?’ he asked.

‘How would I know, squirt? Do I look like a computer?’ Liam dismissed his younger brother and concentrated on pouring a huge mound of Cheerios into his bowl.

‘So, boys, are you excited about school?’ I asked.

‘I hate this stupid uniform,’ Leo complained. ‘It’s really scratchy.’
‘Maybe if you took your football jersey off it would fit better,’ I said. ‘Come on, off with it.’

‘No way!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re already forcing us to go to a new school where we have no friends. You can’t make me to take my Ronaldo off, too.’

I glanced at Harry, who had his nose stuck, as usual, in his iPad, peering at swirly graphs about stocks and option prices or whatever they were called. ‘Harry? Feel free to chip in here.’
He looked up reluctantly. ‘Leo, we’ve decided to send you to the top school in the country. All of the boys there will be properly dressed. You can wear the football jersey when you get home.’

‘Some of them will probably be in tuxedos,’ I muttered.

‘What’s a tuxedo?’ Liam asked, his mouth stuffed with cereal.

‘It’s obviously something that geeks wear,’ Leo said.

‘Yeah, because all the kids in this school are morons,’ Luke added, pulling at his navy-and-white-striped tie.

‘Great, Julie, thanks a lot,’ Harry said angrily. ‘Very supportive of you.’

I glared at him. ‘You know I think it’s completely over the top.’

I wanted to poke my husband’s eye out with my spoon. Harry had insisted on using some of the money to send the boys to the poshest school in Dublin. I was all for my children getting a good education, but the national school nearby was excellent. They had been happy there and had made lots of friends. As had I: the other mums had become a little network for me. I wanted to use the money wisely and send them to a good private school for their secondary education when they were twelve. But Harry had heard about Castle Academy from one of his new ‘friends’ in the golf club he had recently joined and had insisted the boys go there.

Luke threw the football into the air. It landed in the middle of his cereal, sending Cheerios and milk flying everywhere. I counted to ten. I was trying really hard not to shout so much. So far, the longest I had lasted on any given day was fifteen minutes.

‘Clean it up.’ I handed him a roll of kitchen paper.

I turned to put my bowl in the dishwasher and felt a thump on the side of my head as the football whacked me.

I spun around. ‘Ouch! That really hurt.’

‘Sorry.’ Leo giggled.

‘It’s not funny.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Liam said, snorting with laughter.

‘Good shot.’ Luke was impressed.

I picked up the ball, opened the back door and flung it out into the garden. ‘Harry!’ I shouted. ‘Can you please take your nose out of that bloody iPad and control your children while I get dressed?’
‘You lasted thirteen minutes,’ Harry said drily, tapping his watch without looking up.

‘Being walloped in the head is grounds for losing my temper. I’m entitled to shout. I could be concussed!’

Harry stood up. ‘Right, boys, do you fancy a quick game before school?’

‘No!’ I exclaimed. ‘They can’t get all muddy now! Come on, Harry, it’s their first day.’

Harry came over to me. ‘Go and get dressed in peace. I promise not to let them dive or slide-tackle in the mud.’

‘Fat chance.’
Harry laid a hand on my shoulder and looked at me properly for the first time that morning. ‘Julie, I know you’re nervous about their first day and about meeting all those posh mums, but you need to relax. It’ll be fine. This school is going to guarantee that our boys turn into geniuses and world leaders.’

I rolled my eyes. I somehow doubted that our troublesome three would ever be geniuses. Harry was right about my nerves, though. I was worried about meeting the other parents. I was hoping to make friends. To be honest, as the mother of triplets, people tended to avoid me. Other mothers didn’t want their kids befriending mine because a playdate meant having to invite the three of them. No one really wants three boisterous boys bouncing off their walls after school. So I was worried about being isolated. That was the great thing about my old neighbour, Marian: she had four kids and was very laid back about her house, mess and noise. I really missed having her next door.

For the first day of school, I had planned to wear my new Seven jeans with a cream silk T-shirt and a beige jacket, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure. I rang my younger sister, Sophie, who knew everything there was to know about fashion and style.

‘Hi, it’s me. I’ve got First-Day-at-New-School-Outfit Syndrome.’

‘OK, what were you thinking?’ These days, Sophie always got straight to the point. Before, she used to spend ages on the phone analysing this and that, but now that she was working full-time, she was all about efficiency and time management.

I filled her in on my outfit choice.

‘Sounds good, although maybe you should wear the navy Donna Karan jacket you bought. It’s smart, stylish and would look great with those jeans. Also, the navy Marc Jacobs wedges ‒ they’ll finish the look off nicely.’

‘Good idea. Can you hang on while I try it on so I can send you a selfie?’

‘I’m up to my eyes here, Julie. I really have to go.’

‘Please, Sophie ‒ I’ll be quick.’

‘OK ‒ but hurry.’

I put the phone on loudspeaker and tried on her suggestions.

‘Can you believe Gavin and the naked girl? He gets away with murder. Mum would have killed us if we’d brought a guy home to stay the night,’ Sophie said.

‘I know ‒ he’s completely indulged. He really needs to get a job.’

 

I looked in the mirror and sent a photo to Sophie.

‘Got it. Perfect. You look great.’

‘Thanks, sis.’

‘Anytime. Even though I hardly get to buy clothes any more, I still love them.’

‘I can’t believe I have nice clothes. Me, Julie, in outfits that weren’t purchased in Primark!’

Sophie laughed. ‘Enjoy it. You deserve it. Now, don’t be nervous, and if you see Victoria, duck.’

Oh, God, I’d forgotten about Victoria. Her son, Sebastian, went to Castle Academy. He was in the same form the triplets were joining. There were two classes of twenty boys in each year and I was praying Sebastian would be in the other one. Victoria had been one of Sophie’s friends in the Celtic Tiger days, when Sophie was married to Jack and lived the high life. Victoria might have been beautiful and stylish, but she was shallow and nasty underneath her perfect year-round tan. The minute Jack and Sophie had lost everything, Sophie hadn’t seen her for dust.

‘I won’t be on Victoria’s radar,’ I said. ‘I’m far too dowdy for her.’
‘You never know,’ Sophie replied. ‘Now that you’re a millionaire, she might take a shine to you.’

‘After that time I bumped into her and told her I thought she was a low-life for treating you so badly, I don’t think she’ll be rushing over to me.’

‘True. But I was thrilled you did it.’

‘To be honest, I’d say Victoria will have a heart attack when she sees me and the boys, lowering the tone at Castle Academy.’ I giggled.

‘Well, if you’re talking to her and she’s being her usual condescending self, ask her how Gerry is. Her beloved husband is currently shagging one of my models ‒ Amber.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, and he’s not even bothering to be discreet. He took her to Le Jardin last week, on a busy Friday night.’

‘What age is Amber?’
‘Twenty. He’s a creep.’
‘Poor Victoria,’ I said, feeling a tiny bit sorry for the snobby cow.

‘Don’t pity her too much. Remember what a weapon she was to me.’

‘Don’t worry, Sophie. Me and “Vicky” are not going to be bosom buddies. Somehow I don’t see her inviting me and the boys over for playdates so they can trash her immaculate house.’
Sophie laughed. ‘What a lovely thought! Now, go and do your makeup. Use that new eye shadow you bought last week ‒ it’s really flattering. And you’re just as gorgeous as any of those other mothers.’
‘I am not, but thanks anyway.’

‘Gotta run. I’ll call you later. Good luck.’ Sophie hung up and I went to put on my face.

 

When I got back downstairs to call the boys, I looked out of the window to see Harry, the triplets and Tom all running about with muddy knees. Having grown up a lonely only child, Harry was thrilled to have four boys to wrestle and play football with. He was in his element. I often felt very left out. As the boys got older, they needed me less. It was all about Harry now. They wanted him to play football, wrestle and play the Wii with them.

I secretly hoped Tom was gay. I needed someone to hang out with. There was so much testosterone in the house that I sometimes felt suffocated. I loved my boys, but I did envy my sisters, who had daughters they could go shopping and watch Tangled with.

I called them all in, and while Harry went to change his trousers for work, I tried to get the mud out of the triplets’ brand-new school uniforms with a wet cloth.

Eventually we got into the car. I was delivering the older boys while Harry was dropping Tom to his old school. Thankfully Tom would have a couple more years of ‘normal’ school before going to Castle Academy.

‘Good luck today, boys,’ Harry said, sticking his head through the car window. ‘Sorry I can’t be there for your first day, but I have a very important meeting with a fund manager. I’ll see you later. Be good and enjoy this wonderful opportunity. Castle Academy is a school for champions.’

‘Is it a school for Premier League footballers?’ Luke asked.

‘Did Ronaldo go there?’ Leo wanted to know.
‘No, you idiot, he’s from Portugal,’ Liam said.

I started the car and drove off, waving to Harry as we went.

The triplets pinched, thumped, flicked, kicked and poked each other for the twenty minutes it took us to get to the school. I turned up the volume on the radio so I wouldn’t shout and tried to let the music calm my nerves.

I had recently upgraded the battered family van I used to drive, which I’d hated, to a Hyundai Santa Fe and was very proud of my new car. It was only three years old, red, and had a leather interior. It quickly lost its appeal when I drove through the tall iron gates of Castle Academy: BMW, Porsche and Land Rover jeeps were de rigueur. It was like a little oasis in the middle of the economic desert that was recession Ireland.

As I stared up at the imposing castle in front of me, I could feel my hands getting clammy on the steering-wheel. This school was way out of my league ‒ I’d never fit in here. All around us were acres of grounds. It was like something out of Downton Abbey. Okay, not quite, but close enough.

I took deep breaths. The boys were quiet now in the back. They were intimidated too. I prayed they’d get on all right. I wanted them to be happy.

I parked the car beside a shiny black Land Rover and turned to them. Faking a smile, I said, ‘OK, guys, this is it, your new school. Now, don’t be nervous. You’re going to have a great time and they’re lucky to have you. I want you to go in there and be yourselves – well, not your crazy selves, your good selves. OK?’

They nodded. I’d never seen them so still and silent. We got out of the car and I watched as yummy-mummies greeted each other warmly, air-kissing and shrieking like teenagers. I gripped my handbag and stood close to the boys.

My stomach lurched when I saw Victoria climbing delicately down from a powder blue Porsche Cayenne. She was wearing a tightly fitted silver-grey dress with sky-high strappy silver sandals. A huddle of women rushed over to her. She was clearly the queen bee. Most of her minions looked like clones of her – glossy blonde highlighted hair, stick-thin bodies, expensive clothes and manicured nails.

I looked down at my nails. I’d painted them while I was watching Mad Men last night, but then Tom had wet his bed so I’d had to change the sheets and smudged most of them.  I felt like a kid on her first day in school, watching the cool girls and knowing I’d never be one of them. I was always going to be an outsider here.

Thankfully, I recognised one of the mums, Emily. I’d met her at a fashion show Sophie had organized. Her niece had been one of the models. Emily was slightly less well dressed than the others. I imagine she shopped in House of Fraser rather than Harvey Nichols. Buying clothes in House of Fraser was something I used to aspire to, but now it wasn’t good enough. I hated this, hated feeling inferior, and I didn’t want my kids feeling this way.  I shepherded the boys over to where Emily was standing and reintroduced myself to her. She was staring at Victoria and her posse.
‘Look, it’s Victoria Carter-Mills.’ Emily sounded awed.

The one and only,’ I said, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

‘Wow! She’s so stylish. She always looks gorgeous in the social pages of magazines, and she’s even more stunning in the flesh. I wonder where she got those shoes ‒ they’re incredible.’

The triplets had started to play football beside me with a ball they had grabbed from my car. A few other kids joined in and soon there was a gang of them. I smiled to myself. My boys would be fine: they had each other.

Victoria and her group passed in front of us. I turned to look at the boys and avoid her. Just as I did, Leo kicked the ball hard. It zinged past me and smacked Victoria’s leg. Damn!

She staggered. Emily rushed to grab her. They both turned to stare at Leo who, sensing Victoria’s rage, stood very close to me.

‘How dare you?’ Victoria screeched. ‘You horrible child. You almost knocked me over. Look at my leg! I’m going to have a huge bruise.’ Then, glaring at me, she demanded, ‘Are you his mother?’

Victoria’s clones fussed over her, asking if she was all right. I was surrounded and outnumbered. I thought – for a split second only – about denying that Leo was mine, but then I decided to stand my ground. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘He’s just attacked me with that wretched ball. Have you nothing to say?’

‘I do, actually,’ I said, my blood beginning to boil. I could feel all eyes on me, judging me, but suddenly I didn’t care. ‘It was an accident, and Leo is very sorry. There’s no need to call him names.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ she spluttered. ‘Is that it? Is that all you have to say? Your son has scarred me.’

I looked at her leg. ‘No, he hasn’t. It’s a tiny bruise.’ I kept my voice as even as possible.

She tried to frown, but her Botoxed face remained stiff. ‘You’re obviously new to the school.’
‘Yes, we are.’

‘Well, let me tell you that such behaviour is not tolerated. Boys are not allowed to behave like wild animals.’

I’d had enough. ‘Chill out. They were only playing football.’
‘Chill out? Who do you think you are?’

‘Julie Devlin. Sophie Devlin’s sister. You remember my sister Sophie? You were best friends for a while. We’ve met before. In fact, we had an interesting little chat in Starbucks a while ago.’

Victoria looked shocked. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘The triplets are starting in the third form.’

‘But you can’t possibly be sending your children to Castle Academy.’
‘Actually, I can, and I am. They might even be in your son’s class. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll be delighted to hear that your old pal Sophie is doing really well. She’s a partner now in the Beauty Spot.’

Victoria narrowed her eyes and gave me a sickly smile. ‘Poor Sophie. I did feel for her when Jack divorced her and took up with Pippa Collins. Pippa is so young, beautiful and successful. It must have been hard for Sophie to be cast aside like that. ‘
The hairs on the back of my neck were now at right angles to the ground. How dare she belittle my sister? ‘Actually, Sophie divorced Jack. She’s really happy and fulfilled now. All that lunching and shopping was boring her to death.’

Victoria turned to her posse. ‘Sophie was married to Jack Wells. You must have heard about them. So tragic. He lost everything in a Ponzi scheme. He even tried to get Gerry involved, but Gerry was much too clever to fall for that.’

I was very tempted to ask her if Gerry had enjoyed his dinner in Le Jardin on Friday night, but decided not to stoop to her level. It was my first day: I was supposed to be making friends, not mortal enemies.

Victoria flicked back her wavy, honey-coloured hair and tottered off in her high heels with her adoring fans. Emily followed them, so I found myself alone.

The bell rang, calling the boys into class.

I fought back tears. My first day was a disaster. I’d alienated about half the bloody school.

Leo looked up at me. ‘Sorry, Mum. I didn’t mean to hit her.’

I bent down and hugged him. ‘I know, pet. She’s just a stuck-up cow. Don’t you mind her. Now, off you go and have a great day.’

I watched the triplets lining up behind their teacher. They were the only ones with Tesco backpacks and I was proud of that. Some of the boys had leather ones with their initials embossed on the back. More money than sense, as Mum would say.

My heart sank as I saw Victoria’s son standing in line behind the triplets. They were in the same class. Could this day get any worse?

As I stood there, waving, fake-smiling, standing alone, I longed for my old life at the school gates, with Marian at my side, laughing and joking. Here, I was an outcast already.