My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020! Read online

  MY PEAR-SHAPED LIFE

  Carmel Harrington

  Copyright

  Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

  Copyright © Carmel Harrington 2020

  Cover illustrations © Shutterstock.com

  Cover design by Holly Macdonald © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

  Carmel Harrington asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008389369

  Ebook Edition © March 2020 ISBN: 9780008276638

  Version: 2020-02-10

  Dedication

  For Evelyn Harrington, Adrienne Harrington, Evelyn Moher and Leah Harrington. When I married Roger we became family. But I’m so very grateful that we also became friends.

  Dear Reader,

  When I started teasing out my idea about a woman who goes on a search to find her famous namesake, I had no idea where the story would bring me.

  Body image, addiction and big balls of twine oh my …

  In fact, wonderfully, my research brought me on the very journey you are going to read about in this book. With Mr H by my side, we undertook an epic road trip of our own – driving through the prairie plains of Kansas, the snow-capped Colorado Rockies, the mighty red rocks of Utah, ending our trip at the bright lights of Las Vegas. It was one of the best holidays of my life.

  One of the epigraphs I use in this book is from The Road to Oz, by L. Frank Baum. It isn’t what we are, but what folks think we are, that counts in this world.

  He was a wise one, wasn’t he? I wonder, did Mr Baum realize how accurate this statement would still be one hundred years later? When I started to write Greta’s story, one of my close friends said to me, ‘You need to open a vein on this one.’ And Catherine was right, because in order to do Greta’s story justice I had to dig deep. Greta’s character is overweight and struggles with her own self-worth. She’s an aspiring actress, where thin is in and fat is not all that. Life is not easy for her, but she doesn’t let the world know that. While Greta’s life is very different to mine, we share one thing in common – that voice in our heads, the heckler, the naysayer who feels compelled to tell us that we are not enough.

  Through the many drafts of this book, I realized that this writing experience was different to any other I’ve had to date. This time, it felt personal. I knew there could be no holding back. I had to open those veins and look at my own negative body image, to really understand Greta and her struggles. And as over used as the word often is, this book brought me as well as Greta on a journey.

  Here’s what I’ve learned. We know in our heads that we must love our bodies whatever shape and size they are, for good mental health. But the truth is that putting that knowledge into practice is difficult, sometimes impossible. Because we also know, thanks to images and articles on social media and in magazines, that life could be a whole lot better for us if we only had a thinner body, better hair, flawless skin, were taller, shorter, cleverer … the list goes on and on.

  You know, I’ve been on a diet, on and off, for my entire adult life. In fact, the first diet I can remember going on was when I was twelve years old. Since then I’ve been super skinny and I’ve been fat and I’ve been everything in between. Greta’s tricks to hide her weight are borrowed from me and I suspect many of you too use them. The cushion on my lap, sleeves to hide my wobbly arms, oversized jewellery to distract from my mum tum, hiding behind friends and family in photographs.

  Like Greta, I’ve never been happy with the size I am. Even when I was at my thinnest, I often didn’t feel enough. Isn’t that sad? Wouldn’t it be great to go back and whisper some truths in our younger selves’ ears? Tell us that we are smokin’ hot just as we are. In fact, watch this space, I might just write about that very thing one day soon …

  But here’s the good news. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve also grown a little wiser and in the main, acceptance has come my way. I’m bored with the weight conversation that I’ve had for decades, with friends, family but most of all, with myself and that heckler in my head. I want to teach my children a new narrative, that doesn’t include the self-loathing. I want them to understand that a lot of things we see on social media have been filtered and airbrushed. I want to pull back the curtain so to speak and show the truth of the Wizard, who has his own hangups. More than anything I want my children to grow up feeling enough.

  I don’t have all the answers, I’ll have to work on my mental, emotional and health wellbeing for the rest of my life. We all do. But, I do know this. I’m perfectly imperfect as I am and so are you. My size does not change my worth. I am enough. We are enough.

  Now before I let you go so you can start reading My Pear-Shaped Life, I want to mention it’s connection to The Wizard of Oz!

  I’m often asked about my love of all things Oz. And I especially love getting messages from my readers when they spot an Ozism in one of my books. The movie came first for me. I can’t remember a childhood Christmas that didn’t include a trip down the yellow brick road. But it was only when I was ten or eleven that I picked up a copy of the book from the library. And I realized that Baum’s Oz was so much more than my beloved movie. Since then, I’ve read the complete collection of books (there are fourteen) and I’ve read, watched and loved all books and movies that have a connection to Oz too.

  Somewhere Over The Rainbow sung by the irreplaceable Judy Garland, is one of the lullabies that I sing at bedtime to my children. It always calms them, making them feel loved and safe. I love Oz because it taught me that if I know myself, truly know my mind, my heart, my courage, then I’m always home.

  When I explored plot lines and characters for this book I kept going back to one of the most iconic of all road trips – that of Dorothy and her friends on the yellow brick road. And I realized that our stories shared many themes – hidden inner strengths, the power of friends and finding our true selves as we make our way home. I hope readers will have fun finding the Oz parallels that are scattered amongst this read. I should stress that My Pear-Shaped Life is not a fantasy read. It has its two feet firmly in the world that we all live in – one with many shades of grey, multi-technicolour and everything else in between. We need rain and sunshine to get those gorgeous rainbows, right?

  And don’t worry if you are not a fan of Oz. If you’ve never read the book or watched the movie, it won’t impair your enjoyment one jot. But I think Oz lovers will enjoy the parallels and the imagery, from the obvious to the more subtle. I look forward to book club chats with readers where we can tease these out in pe
rson!

  As with all my books, despite my many months researching the issues in this novel, I’m sure that there are some errors. All mine! Please forgive me for any that jar.

  And so lovely reader, it’s time for me to say goodbye and let you meet Greta and her friends. Some of you have been with me from the beginning, other readers I’ve picked up along the way. But all of you are in my heart. Every time you get in touch, reviewing a read on Amazon or Goodreads, find me on social media or via my website for a chat, come to see me in person at an author event, you give me a gift. You really do. I hope you enjoy My Pear-Shaped Life and take it into your hearts.

  Happy reading,

  Carmel

  Epigraph

  I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.

  The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Dear Reader …

  Epigraph

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Part Two

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Part Three

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Part Four

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Reader Questions

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Also by Carmel Harrington

  About the Publisher

  LIVE AND IN PERSON

  New York Times Bestseller | TV Superstar | Life Coach

  DR GRETA GALE

  ———————————-

  Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas

  11 April | 3 p.m.

  WHAT’S IN YOUR CUPBOARD?

  No … not your kitchen cupboard. The cupboard in your head. The one that stores all your past hurts and emotions. Your memories. The cupboard of your life.

  So many of us believe that we are not enough, just as we are. But with courage, with understanding, with knowing, we can change that. Together.

  Are you brave enough to say hello to the real YOU?

  Are you brave enough to free yourself of society’s expectations of how you should look and feel?

  For one day only, Dr Greta Gale will share her insights on how we can all clear our emotional cupboards out, so that we can live our best lives. Free from the clutter of life.

  Book your ticket today.

  $195 + Tax

  www.drgretagale.com

  * * *

  Drgretagale Hi y’all! Are you ready to join me? Make today count and book your ticket right now. Can I get a hell yeah? Link in bio …

  #drgretagale #whatsinyourcupboard #positivethoughts #instaquotes #strong #selfhelp #inspire #mindfulness #love

  It isn’t what we are, but what folks think we are, that counts in this world.

  The Road to Oz, L. Frank Baum

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Greta walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. She smiled her thanks to her mam, Emily, who placed a mug of dark brown tea in front of her. The Gales all drank their tea the same way – brewed or, as some might say, stewed.

  ‘Sleep OK?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Like a baby,’ Greta replied.

  ‘You didn’t take any more of those sleeping pills, did you?’ Emily’s forehead wrinkled in a frown.

  ‘Give over, Mam. I only take the odd one when my insomnia gets out of hand. I keep telling you that,’ Greta said. Her mother worried way too much. Greta had taken one the previous evening, as it happened, but there was no point worrying her mam admitting that. When it came to her parents, some things were better on a ‘need to know’ basis.

  Greta opened her phone and flicked through Instagram. ‘Oh Mam look—’ Greta began, but was silenced with a shush and a wave at the TV screen. Eamonn Holmes, one of the anchors of her mam’s favourite TV show This Morning was speaking. Emily always denied that she had a crush on him, but when he spoke her face softened, and she hung on his every word.

  Only when Eamonn had finished talking did Emily answer, ‘What’s that love?’

  Greta pointed to a photograph of Dr Greta Gale, her famous namesake.

  In the photo, Dr Gale was sitting on a red-brick wall, with the backdrop of a green ocean behind her, smiling to the camera. ‘Doesn’t she look beautiful?’

  ‘How does she get her hair to look like that?’ Emily asked, smoothing down her own shoulder-length bob. ‘Maybe I should grow mine out a bit.’

  ‘She probably has a glam squad at her disposal twenty-four/seven,’ Greta replied. ‘What do you think she means by being the same personally as well as privately and publicly?’

  Drgretagale Be the same person privately, publicly and – most importantly – personally. Can I get a hell yeah?

  #inspirationalquotes #drgretagale #inspire #mindfulness #strong #whatsinyourcupboard

  Emily put her glasses on to read the post beneath the photograph. ‘I don’t know. Half the stuff she posts is a load of mumbo jumbo if you ask me.’

  ‘Mam!’ Greta loved Dr Gale and wouldn’t have a word said against her. And that wasn’t just because they shared the same name – although that was part of it. It was more because Dr Gale epitomized everything that Greta wished she could be herself. Dr Gale was successful, beautiful and loved. She was living her best life. She represented hope for Greta. Maybe one day she too could have everything that Dr Gale had. There wasn’t a single Instagram post that Greta had not read. And with each new double tap of love, she felt her connection to her grow stronger.

  Greta would lie in bed, late at night, knowing she should be at least making an attempt to sleep, but somehow unable to take her eyes off Dr Gale’s Instafeed. She would lose hours googling books, food, art and restaurants that Dr Gale tagged in a photo. She followed accounts that Dr Gale followed. Last year she bought a green kaftan similar to the one that Dr Gale wore to a beach party, but that had not ended well. On Dr Gale the kaftan looked very boho chic. On Greta it looked as if she’d eaten all the pies.

  More than how Dr Gale looked, lately her Instagram posts felt as if they were speaking directly to Greta. Every word seemed like a secret message just for her, as if Dr Gale had looked into Greta’s mind and knew exactly what to say to help her, support her, advise her.

  While her mam’s back was turned, Greta picked up the remote control and hit the Netflix button, pressing play on the one-hour Dr Greta Gale Special, ‘What’s In Your Cupboard?’

  ‘Not again,’ Emily groaned.

  ‘What?’ Greta feigned innocence. ‘You like her as much as me. And I love this bit. Look at that strut.’

  They both watched Dr Gale sashaying onto a stage, the spotlight following her as she walked. ‘Hello y’all.’

  ‘Hello y’all,’ Greta and Emily called back to the screen in their best copycat US accent.

  ‘When I grew up in Kansas, on a little old bitty farm, I could never have dreamed that one day I’d be standing here in
front of y’all. A New York Times bestseller, translated into thirty-three languages – so far – with my own TV special. I’m not sharing that to brag, but to illustrate how life is full of surprises. You never know what is around your corner for you. Am I right? Can I get a hell yeah!’

  ‘Hell yeah!’ Greta and Emily called back.

  ‘I’d love to know where she got that dress. I’ve got your second cousin Breda’s confirmation coming up in April. I’d take the sight out of their eyes if I walked into the church in that.’

  ‘It’s Diane von Fürstenberg. $1,800. Sorry, Mam. But guess what? Dr Greta has announced her first-ever live one-day seminar in Las Vegas. Wouldn’t it be something else to go and see her there?’ She felt a frisson of excitement at the very thought.

  Emily muttered something about notions and outrageous airfares under her breath then went back to making a pot of porridge. A loud bang from upstairs ricocheted down the stairs into the kitchen. Emily and Greta raised their eyes upwards. The boys were up.

  ‘Wait till I get hold of those … those two bowsies!’ Emily said. Bowsie was Emily’s favourite slang for her two sons whenever they were being unruly.

  Greta slipped into actress mode and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in question, a move she had been practising for weeks. She had a big audition later today in London and she planned to end her prepared monologue with this facial expression. Emily sighed as only a mother who had the full weight of her irresponsible boys on her shoulders could. She pointed to the grill. ‘It was left on all night. We could have burned to a crisp, the whole house up like a light.’ She blessed herself quickly, muttering thanks to St Anthony, her saint of choice for keeping them safe.

  Greta felt a shiver of something ripple through her. Staring at the grill, she imagined flames bursting from its dark cave, filling the kitchen, sneaking up the stairs to the sleeping family.

  ‘Did they wake you up with all their drunken shenanigans last night?’ Emily asked.

 
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