Babies in Waiting (36 page)

Rachel, polite as always, sent a beautiful display of flowers with a blue teddy bear to the hospital when Peter was born, but she didn’t come to see him. Louise wasn’t surprised that Rachel didn’t come to visit her in the flat . . . she wouldn’t want to do that while Brian was there. So, one sunny Wednesday, when Peter was just over a week old, she spent an hour packing an enormous bag of nappies, spare clothes, muslin cloths, blankets and other paraphernalia. She carefully strapped him into his car seat and gingerly carried him down to the car. Brian came along to help her strap the car seat into position. She got into the car and pulled out into the traffic cautiously. She’d always been a confident driver, but she had never driven a car with a more precious cargo. The journey to Rachel’s house should have taken fifteen minutes, but as she crawled along it took more like half an hour. She even stopped twice to check on Peter, who slept peacefully through the whole rigmarole.

She got out of the car, and was wrestling the car seat
out of the seatbelt when Rachel came out of the front door. Louise stood up. She couldn’t read Rachel’s face at all; it was a blank mask.

‘Hey, Rach,’ she said warmly. ‘I didn’t know if you’d want to see me, but your nephew really wanted to meet you. He’s so excited, he’s fast asleep.’

Rachel didn’t say anything, but she came round to the passenger side of Louise’s car. Louise stepped back so Rachel could see, and she peered in at Peter’s serene, sleeping face.

‘He’s beautiful,’ she said, and touched his cheek gently. Peter huffed and sighed in his sleep.

‘Can we come in?’ asked Louise gently.

Rachel said nothing for a bit. She just kept looking at Peter’s sleeping face.

‘Okay,’ she said finally. ‘Will he wake up?’

‘He’s due for a feed soon, so I’m sure he will.’

Louise followed Rachel into the house, and when Rachel went into the kitchen to make tea, she settled herself in the living room. Peter began to wriggle in his car seat, so she took him out. As soon as he smelt her, he immediately began to root. When Rachel came back in with a tea tray, he was busy feeding. A spasm passed over her face. ‘So you’re breastfeeding,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think you would.’

‘It was difficult at first, but we’re getting the hang of it.’

Rachel poured tea and served biscuits. ‘So how was the birth?’

‘Surprisingly calm. Simon was amazing . . . very strong and supportive. Although he did cry like a big girl when Peter was actually born.’

‘He said it was the most amazing thing he’s ever seen,’ said Rachel.

Louise could see how very, very hard this was for Rachel. She wished she could make it easier . . . make the pain and the envy go away, make the awkwardness between them disappear. But she didn’t know how. She leaned forward to get her tea and Rachel pushed her cup closer. They sat in silence for a time while Peter fed, then he unlatched and Louise gently winded him over her shoulder.

‘Would you like to hold him?’

‘Er . . . not yet, if that’s okay,’ said Rachel.

‘That’s fine.’ Louise took a blanket out of her bag and spread it on the floor in a patch of sun by the window. She laid Peter on the blanket, and let him gaze at the trees outside and wave his arms and legs. After a while, Rachel came to sit beside them on the floor. She waited a few minutes, and then held out a finger to Peter. He grasped it and turned his fuzzy gaze on her.

Later, as Louise drove home, she thought that it had been a reasonably good first visit. Rachel hadn’t thrown her out, or picked a fight, or even asked about Brian. She hadn’t been full of love and forgiveness either, or melted and cuddled her nephew. But it was a first step.

Gemma wasn’t kidding herself. She knew she had it good. Millie was a very sweet, placid baby, who very quickly settled into a predictable routine, feeding every four hours during the day and every six at night. The formidable Sister Nethercleft helped a lot in getting things organised. Ben came round every day, and wanted to spend time holding and playing with his daughter, so if Gemma was tired she could go off for a nap, and, amazingly, her father, always an early riser, had got into the habit of taking Millie into his study in the morning to give Gemma an hour’s extra sleep. She had never expected him to be an involved granddad, but he seemed to love having Millie beside him in her little bouncy chair as he checked the progress of the Asian markets. Samantha was less involved, and didn’t seem to want to hold the baby or feed her, but if Gemma needed anything she was happy to buy it for her. She was going to be the grandmother who threw money at the problem, it seemed.

Hannah and Ben’s relationship had been strained since
their row about her answering Ben’s phone, and Ben wanted to stop her seeing Millie at all, but Kat eventually calmed him down. Then Hannah started going round to Gemma’s every day, staying for ages and commenting on everything that Gemma did with Millie.

‘Isn’t she a bit cold?’ she’d say, when Gemma put Millie down on her sheepskin in just a vest and nappy so she could kick her legs. And when Gemma winded Millie, Hannah would say briskly, ‘You haven’t got all the air out. Give her to me. Nanna will fix it.’

At her wits’ end, Gemma spoke to Ben and said his mum was stressing her out, and that led to another massive fight between Ben and his mum. Eventually, though, they negotiated a truce with Hannah, and she visited Gemma and Millie every Friday and had Millie over to visit without Gemma on a Sunday afternoon for a few hours. Gemma was enormously relieved: Hannah was a big help now she wasn’t hanging over her, criticising her every parenting decision.

Gemma went round to see Toni in her first week home from the hospital with little Harry. Toni looked shattered . . . the emergency Caesarean and Harry’s worrying first days had obviously taken their toll. She was very proudly breastfeeding, and seemed to have Harry plugged on to a boob all the time. Gemma was a bit grossed out . . . she had never wanted to breastfeed. She thought it was animalistic and a bit primitive, but Toni kept going on about how breastfed babies were cleverer and never got sick and were generally superhuman. For Gemma though,
she liked the fact that she could just give Millie a bottle and be done with it (or in fact
anyone
could give Millie a bottle, it didn’t even have to be her). Also, from what Toni said, she was up half the night feeding too. James was there, looking after Toni and bringing her cups of tea and biscuits and generally being really, really sweet. He was such an amazing guy, always kind, always smiling and making a joke, and he was so, so good-looking. He really was the best-looking guy Gemma had ever met – not a handsome boy, like Ben, but a proper, hunky man.

After that first visit, she didn’t go and see Toni for a while. It was so easy for the days just to drift past in a haze, playing with Millie, sitting out in the garden with her, reading or watching TV while she slept. But one rainy Thursday, she realised that she hadn’t heard from Toni in quite a while. She sent off a quick text, saying ‘Hi, fancy a visit tomorrow? Can Millie and I come for afternoon tea?’

There was no reply for ages, then Toni’s response came: ‘Prob not, sory . . . Hry has COLIC. afternoons bad.’

Gemma knew then that things had to be really awful. Toni was a stickler for punctuation and correct spelling, even in texts – they’d had a conversation about it. For her to send a message like that, Toni had to be in a really bad way.

After what Toni had done for her, delivering Millie, she wanted to do something, however small, in return, so she decided she’d ring that evening. She’d wait till Harry would be asleep.

Once Millie was tucked up at seven, she made herself
a cup of tea and went to sit in the kitchen. She rang Toni’s mobile, but it went straight to message, so she dialled her home number. Toni answered, and she could hear Harry yelling rhythmically, without stopping, close to the phone.

‘James?’ said Toni, a real edge of desperation in her voice. ‘Are you nearly here?’

‘It’s Gemma.’ Toni sounded so out of control, she half-regretted ringing at all. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Gem!’ said Toni, trying to sound cheerful, although Harry was still screaming. ‘How are you? How’s Millie?’

‘We’re fine. Millie’s asleep. Things don’t sound so good there, though. Shall I come over and help? My mum’s here, she can watch Millie.’

‘No, no! James is on his way . . . he was just held up at work. It’ll be fine.’ There was a heartbreaking catch in Toni’s voice.

‘Why is he screaming like that?’ Gemma couldn’t help asking.

‘It’s colic. He starts mid-afternoon and screams until he falls asleep.’

‘When will that be?’

‘Another hour, maybe?’

‘Oh my God, that must be awful! Toni, how are you coping?’

There was a pause, not a silence, because Harry’s squawking continued without a gap, then Toni said, ‘Barely. I’m barely coping, to tell you the truth. Oh wow!’ she said suddenly. ‘I’m looking out of the window and I see James hurrying up the road. My knight in shining Levi’s. Gotta
go. Thanks for ringing, Gem, honestly.’ And she rang off.

Gemma was worried, but she didn’t have a clue what to do. She owed Toni so much, but she had no idea how to help her. There was no point in asking Samantha, she’d hate having a conversation about emotional stuff, and then she’d probably just suggest writing Toni a cheque. So Gemma did something she thought she’d never do. She rang Hannah for advice.

‘Ben was colicky,’ Hannah said. ‘It was hideous. Your poor friend.’

‘What can I do to help her?’

‘She needs practical help. Do her housework. Take food around. Have you got a pen? I’ll dictate you a list of things to buy.’

For once, Gemma was glad Hannah was so bossy.

The next day at two, she knocked on Toni’s door. As soon as Toni opened it, Gemma marched in, Millie’s car seat in one hand, a large M&S carrier bag in the other. Toni clearly hadn’t showered and was still in trackie bottoms, her hair scraped back in a ponytail. Harry was asleep, slumped against her breast. She looked mortified.

‘Gem, I wasn’t expecting . . . sorry, everything’s in such a state.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I heard how you sounded last night, and I thought, if Toni’s going to have a rough afternoon with a screaming baby, she’s going to do it with a bucket of chocolate mini-rolls.’

Toni looked like she might cry. ‘Gem, you didn’t have to.’

‘I owe you my baby’s life, and probably my life too. Now
shut up, sit on the sofa, and tell me what I can do to help.’

Toni protested a lot, but Gemma wore her down. She held Harry while Toni had a shower and got dressed, then she washed up all the dirty dishes in the kitchen and wiped down all the surfaces and put on a load of laundry. Along with sugar and carbohydrate-laden treats, she’d followed Hannah’s suggestions and brought soup, bread, fresh pasta and tubs of sauce: things that could easily be shoved in a microwave or prepared one-handed while holding a baby. She made Toni have something to eat (she hadn’t had anything but a cup of tea all day), and made her promise she’d get James to make some pasta for their dinner.

She gave the sitting room a quick hoovering, then put down the playmat and let Harry and Millie kick side by side for a while. And when Harry started to scream, she stayed, and she and Toni swapped babies every half an hour or so. She kept chatting, kept joking, kept sending Toni into the other room to give her a break.

She wasn’t surprised Toni was at the end of her tether . . . the screaming was just heartbreaking, and when Toni was on her own she couldn’t get a moment’s peace. But Gemma was proud that with her and Millie there to act as distractions the afternoon seemed a bit easier for Toni.

There was a noise in the hallway, and Toni glanced at her watch.

‘Good grief!’ she said. ‘That’s James, home already! Gem, you’ve been a life-saver. That’s the best afternoon I’ve had since this started. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.’

James came in then, tall, breathtakingly handsome, smelling of outside air and a very sexy lemony aftershave.

‘Hey, Gemma!’ he said, exuberantly kissing her cheek. ‘Let’s see your little tadpole. Wow, she’s a beauty. Just like her mum!’

Then he went over to kiss Toni. ‘Love, you look amazing!’ he said tenderly.

‘You mean, dressed and not smelly. All thanks to Gemma,’ said Toni. ‘Here, this is yours,’ and she shoved Harry into his arms. ‘Gotta pee!’ And she dashed to the bathroom.

‘There’s pasta and sauce for your dinner,’ said Gemma, gathering up Millie’s things and packing her bag. ‘Just something easy, so you and Toni can relax.’

James came over and put his free hand on her arm. ‘Gemma, I can’t thank you enough. I’ve been worried sick about her, here all day on her own with him. But you’ve worked a miracle today.’

‘It’s nothing.’ Gemma blushed. ‘Compared to what she did for me.’

James pulled her to him and gave her a big one-armed bear hug. It took her breath away, being so close to him. He smelled so good, and he was so big and muscular. She stepped away sharply, and stammered, ‘I’d better go. Tell Toni I say . . . um . . . goodbye. I’ll come again on Monday, if she likes.’

She grabbed her bag, scooped up Millie’s car seat and left as quickly as she could.

Mornings used to be different. Well, I know that’s a really obvious thing to say . . . of course they did. I used to wake up to an alarm clock and spend the first half-hour of my day showering and getting ready to rush off to work. Now I’m woken up by a snuffling, squawking baby, anytime between 5.30 and 7 a.m., and I spend the first half an hour sitting in bed with him latched on to my boob. But that’s not what I mean. I used to like waking up . . . I’ve always been a morning person, and I used to drive James nuts by being relentlessly cheery first thing. But now I dread mornings. It’s not even as if I’m sleep-deprived – Harry may scream all afternoon, but he’s very good at night and I’m getting a reasonable amount of sleep. It’s just that I don’t want to open my eyes. Harry starts to stir, and I get this feeling of dismay, like I’ve only just got into bed and I could sleep for another twelve hours. Like I’d do anything, anything at all to have Harry and James and everyone leave me alone in bed for the whole day.