Read Online In My Sister's Shoes by Sinéad Moriarty - Free Book Online Page A

glanced at my watch. We were already running late and Fiona had specifically told me that Mrs Foley liked her pupils to be on time. What difference it could possibly make to a bunch of kids running around or playing with Lego if one was late was beyond me. But I wanted to do everything right and prove myself a responsible, reliable sister. So far, it wasn’t going to plan.
    ‘I want Kakosky flowers,’ Bobby whinged.
    I looked again. Who the hell was Kakosky? Some stupid bloody Russian composer, no doubt, who’d spent his life freezing his arse off in a wooden hut in the middle of a snowy field with no heating and all his family killed in some revolution or other. So he wrote music that reflected his sad depressing life and no one appreciated it because it was so dark and grim. So we had been spared it, until a century later when some music critic determined to make a name for himself had decided to find an obscure composer and convince us that the music wasn’t depressing, it was ‘moving and stirring’, and now we had to pretend to appreciate it. Because to say you think it’s a pile of horse manure shows you’re an ignorant fool, even though most people probably agree with you.
    My patience was running out. ‘I’m sorry, Bobby it’s not here.’
    Bobby grabbed the CDs and waved one at me. ‘It’s the one with the butterflies on it. It’s number three,’ he said.
    I looked down: Tchaikovsky, Waltz of the Flowers . ‘Sorry, Bobby, I see it now.’ I felt like a prat. These kids could run rings round me in the brains department. ‘OK, let me tell you something about Kakosky,’ I said, shuffling through my notes. ‘Here we go. His name was Peter.’
    ‘We know that,’ said Bobby.
    ‘And we know he was from Russia,’ Jack piped up.
    ‘OK. Did you know he had twin brothers, just like you two, whom he adored?’
    ‘Cool,’ said Bobby.
    I looked down at the sheet I’d printed off the Internet in Dad’s office the night before. ‘It says here he was married but he was actually a homo – Oh!’ I said. I didn’t think the boys needed to know about Kakosky’s sexual preferences.
    ‘Homo what?’ asked Jack.
    ‘Home a lot where he composed all his lovely music,’ I said, cranking up the volume to drown anymore questions.
    When I dropped the twins off at school, I received a stern lecture from Mrs Foley about tardiness being unacceptable, until I cut across her and told her to give me and the boys a break as Fiona was in hospital and very unwell. She sniffed, then said she hoped my sister would recover soon, but if I was in charge for the moment, I must make the effort to be on time in future. Then I was informed that if I was late to pick them up at lunchtime I would incur a charge of five euro for every half-hour, except under very exceptional circumstances. In being late I was teaching the boys a bad habit, which could lead to sloth in the future. And sloth, as we all know, is a deadly sin.
    I backed down the driveway as fast as my legs could carry me before Mrs Foley could list anymore sins I might inflict on the boys. Where did Fiona find these people, I wondered, as I drove back to the house to clear up.
    When I got in, the kitchen was a mess. Porridge was stuck to the floor and the table. Milk had spilled down the side of the chairs and Teddy was licking the honeyjar, which had fallen on to the floor.
    He jumped when he saw me and looked mightily relieved when he realized I was alone. The poor dog was tormented daily by the twins with their over-zealous displays of love.
    ‘I know how you feel,’ I said, patting his nose. I made myself some coffee and sat down to have a cigarette before I did the cleaning. As I lit up, I saw a bright red sign on the fridge: ‘No Smoking – Our Kids Breathe Clean Air.’ I sighed and put the cigarette back into the packet. I made myself two slices of toast, which I lathered with butter to compensate for my lack of nicotine. I hadn’t eaten bread or butter