---

In the past, a ‘bad night’ had usually meant embarrassing drunken antics or getting stuck listening to a terrible covers band. Now it meant walking up and down the hallway with a screaming child.

This morning, Henry was spreadeagled on his play mat. It was all very well for him to sleep now. Why not last night, when she had jiggled, walked, cuddled, put him down, picked him up? Sung? Soothed? Begged? It was tempting to pinch him awake and cry loudly into his ear – see how he liked it.

At least with him asleep, eating would be logistically easier. Jenny had tried to cancel on Claire – dealing with her sister was difficult at the best of times, let alone when she was extra tired and emotional. But Claire had been insistent.

And, over lunch, she was full of cheer. ‘Isn’t this nice, being able to meet up in the week? Just think, if you decide to work part-time, we’ll be able to do this all the time.’

That did not sound an attractive prospect.

‘I don’t even know whether I’ll have a job to go back to.’ She might as well tell Claire and get the ‘I told you so’ out of the way. ‘I’ve turned down Mark’s offer. I’m not going to work for him.’

Claire didn’t skip a beat. ‘Well, I must say I’m glad. I never liked him.’

Jenny was grateful for her sister’s solidarity. She’d only met Mark a couple of times – family get-togethers were never his thing – but she’d never approved of his lack of ‘settling-down’ qualities. Dan, on the other hand, had been greeted by Jenny’s family as if he were the answer to their prayers.

‘So, what will you do instead?’

Jenny shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ll do as you said. Give it up. Stay at home with Henry. Pick up a bit of freelance work to pay the bills.’

She was so exhausted this morning that she had begun to think this might be the best thing. She was tired of trying to do everything. Right now she wanted to take it all: nappies, writing, weaning, meetings, rhyme time, research, friends, family – even Henry – and run like the wind in the opposite direction. She had had enough.

Claire shook her head. ‘That’s never going to work.’

‘Pardon?’ Jenny was tired, but surely she wasn’t hearing things? ‘Why not?’

‘Because you love your job. You’d miss it too much.’

Trying to think through the fog in her brain was beginning to give Jenny a headache. ‘But I thought you told me that raising a child was the best job in the world?’

‘It is.’ Claire refilled their water glasses. ‘For me. Not for you.’

Jenny prickled. ‘You don’t think I can do it?’

Claire sighed. ‘I can’t say anything right, can I? Of course you can do it. But you don’t want to. That’s the difference. I wanted to. I wanted to be at home looking after them and making my home nice and taking them to baby groups.’

Jenny gulped down the huge lump that was threatening in her throat. ‘Are you saying that I don’t love Henry enough?’

On some level, Jenny knew that she was overreacting because she was so tired. But she had tried really, really hard to do everything with Henry that everyone else was doing. Why couldn’t Claire see that?

‘Jenny, please. All I’m trying to say is that there is no right or wrong. I chose one way but it’s not the only way. And there are some… downsides… whatever choice you make.’

Jenny narrowed her eyes. ‘What are you talking about?’

Claire put down her knife and fork. ‘I can’t get a job.’

‘Well, that’s because you were asking for ridiculously restricted hours.’ Fatigue-induced irritability made it difficult for Jenny to be sympathetic.

‘I worked out pretty early on that those hours were going to be impossible to find. One recruitment agent actually laughed at me.’

Jenny suppressed a smile.

‘So I stopped looking for those hours and just asked what they had generally.’

‘And?’

‘Nothing. Or almost nothing. It appears that I am not actually qualified to do anything which uses my brain. It doesn’t matter what I did before, the fourteen-year gap in my CV is as unbridgeable as the Grand Canyon.’

Jenny felt guilty about the smile. ‘You haven’t been looking very long. You just need to keep at it.’

Claire shook her head. ‘I even tried my old company. But there’s no one there who remembers me, and the HR person I spoke to – who sounded about twelve – just spoke in clichés about the business having moved on since I was there. Apparently, I don’t have the skill sets needed.’ She took a gulp of her water. ‘What the hell is a “skill set”, anyway? I used to type and answer the phone.’ She stabbed at a piece of broccoli. ‘That’s why I think you’re right.’

That woke Jenny up. ‘Right about what?’

‘About keeping your job going. Not giving it up altogether. At least you’ll have something on your CV when no one needs you any more or wants you to… to…’

Claire burst into tears.

---

In the next twenty minutes, it all came out. How the kids had needed her less and less since they’d started secondary school. How long and boring her days had become. Although it had been her husband who had suggested she look for a job, Claire had been a little bit excited about it.

‘I thought I’d be able to find something interesting. I wasn’t looking to be a brain surgeon. Doctor’s receptionist or sales assistant would have been nice. But it turns out that no one wants to employ someone whose CV reads like Mrs Beeton’s diary.’ Claire dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.

‘I’m sure something will come up.’ Jenny squeezed Claire’s hand encouragingly.

Henry woke up in his usual subtle way: eyes open, mouth open. Jenny looked at her watch. It was his lunchtime. She had been so close to finishing a hot meal.

‘Let me feed him,’ said Claire. ‘You eat your lunch.’

Jenny watched in awe as her sister spooned the orange mush into Henry’s open mouth. Where was the spitting? The grizzling? The pulling at his tongue as if he were being poisoned?

‘You’re so good at that.’

Claire shrugged. ‘I’ve done it enough times.’ She picked up a corner of Henry’s bib and expertly wiped a smear from the corner of his mouth. ‘I miss it, actually.’

It was so obvious, Jenny wondered why she hadn’t thought of it earlier. ‘Have you thought about working with children?’

Claire paused with the spoon midway to Henry’s mouth. He actually reached out to try and grab it. She has mystical powers.

‘Do you know, I hadn’t even thought of it. What about all the qualifications?’

‘You’ve got time to do them now the kids are more independent.’ Jenny handed Claire a yoghurt. ‘I’ll google it if you like. Find out what you need.’

When she’d found her mobile in her bag, Jenny saw she had a ‘Call me’ text from Eva. It was so rare to get a message from her that Jenny called back straight away.

‘She’s just gone into a meeting,’ Maureen told her when she answered. ‘But I know she wants to see you pretty urgently. When can you come in?’

Jenny tried not to get her hopes up, but her imagination ran wild. Maybe Eva had had an epiphany about the blog. Jenny had been getting a lot of comments in the previous few weeks – Eva might finally be taking it seriously. There was no way she would ask to see Jenny urgently just to tell her that she was letting her go; she was far too busy for that. And Lucy was doing so well on ‘Girl About Town’ that she wouldn’t be asking her back for that, either. What else could it be but that she had decided to give her a shot at The Undercover Mother column, and was ready for her to start immediately?

‘How about tomorrow?’