doing what felt right; they were subjects to be conquered and mastered. Childbirth and parenting were tests, and she had to graduate with honors. What was more, the rest of the world had to be made aware of her successes and triumphs so that they would look up to her and admire her—maybe even love her.
It had occurred to Amy that as a child Victoria had received so much praise when she did well at school, she had grown up believing that all love was dependent on her success. That would explain why she threw herself into her studies and then into her job. Now she was doing the same with motherhood. Victoria was a self-appointed mother superior, eager to bestow upon other mothers the benefit of her knowledge and wisdom. She lived under the impression that she was respected and admired. Amy suspected that the truth was different. It occurred to her that the moment Victoria appeared in the school playground, women cried out: “Omigod, duck, everyone. Here she comes.”
Since having Charlie, Amy had come across several mothers superior like Victoria. For them, motherhood was nothing less than rhapsodic. Mothers superior would never admit that being stuck at home on a wet afternoon building Lego towers with a toddler who immediately demolished them and then demanded they be rebuilt was a chore. In their view, the mistake other mothers made was failing to see the experience as a truly meaningful step on junior’s epic journey toward learning to play and interact with significant others. It was something to be celebrated, not endured.
They were never sleep-deprived because they were slaves to Gina Ford’s Contented Little Baby Book . They knew that looking after infants was all about routine and letting a newborn know who was boss.
A mother superior produced babies who slept through the night from age two weeks. They also napped twice a day: from ten until twelve and from two to four. That way she had time to lobby for a position on the board of governors at the school her three older children attended, help paint the scenery for the end-of-term play, and do her pelvic floor exercises.
AMY’S RELATIONSHIP with Victoria had never been easy. For a start, Victoria was five years older, which meant that for a long time she was physically bigger than Amy and able to push her around.
At school, Victoria did well in everything. If there was an academic prize to be won, she waltzed off with it. The upshot was that she turned into a bossy know-it-all who believed she was right about everything and couldn’t be challenged. Her parents and teachers should have addressed her arrogance and reined her in, but they never did.
One of Victoria’s favorite sports was crowing over her sister and calling her stupid. Of course she was savvy enough to do this well out of parental earshot. Despite her sister’s bullying, Amy did well at school, but unlike Victoria, she wasn’t Oxbridge material. She left Sussex with a perfectly respectable two-one. Of course Victoria left Oxford with a first.
By the time Amy reached her teenage years, her confidence had grown and she refused to let her sister put her down. Amy learned to fight back, and there were often huge rows. Back then she was unaware that she was jealous of her sister. She saw herself as a helpless victim, eager to love Victoria if only she would stop being such a bully. It was only in the last couple of years that Amy had begun to acknowledge her resentment and admit—to herself at least—that there were times when she teased and goaded her older sister.
As the sisters turned from teenagers to women, the slanging matches continued. They were usually followed by months of bad feeling. These days, their parents having separated, Amy decided that there was enough family friction around and made a particular effort to get along with Victoria. It was by no means easy, though, and there were still times when Amy could have throttled her and happily served the time.
“Of course I’ll
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