India looked beautiful in her christening robes and she loved having her photo taken.
‘Little poppet,’ said Sam’s father, as he took what felt like the millionth shot of his fourth granddaughter who was being held by her granny Vera with adoration.
‘Why is she wearing that dress. That is my dress!’ said Posy crossly.
The whole family had decamped to a big hotel for the day after the ceremony as Sam and Ted’s house was too small for the party, and Sam didn’t want it at her parents’.
Posy had taken umbrage at the sight of the baby wearing the christening gown that all three of Joanne’s children had worn.
‘You wouldn’t fit into it,’ explained her father equably.
‘I would.’
‘No, you wouldn’t,’ said Pixie, grabbing one of Posy’s little fat arms with their adorable elastic band lines where her hand and forearm met.
Posy gave her father and uncle her fiercest look.
‘Get it off her. I will try it on.’
‘No,’ said Joanne.
Posy tried some foot stomping and then, because that wasn’t working, she lay on the floor on her stomach and did a full-body tantrum.
Sam, in a flowing Ghost dress in dark crimson, laughed so much it hurt, and then laid down on the carpet beside her niece and began to bang the floor too. ‘Waaaaaa,’ she wailed.
Instantly, Posy stopped.
‘What you doing?’ she demanded. This was her tantrum. Guests were not invited.
‘I thought it was a game,’ said Sam, straight-faced. ‘There’s going to be chocolate cake soon. Do you want some?’
Posy got to her feet at speed, while Sam picked herself up with more decorum.
‘Old people are very slow,’ Posy remarked.
Sam nodded gravely. ‘Chocolate cake?’ she asked.
Posy put a small hand in her aunt’s. ‘Yeah. I want a big piece, the biggest, biggerest.’
Joanne grinned at her sister. ‘Looks like you’ve got this mother thing cracked,’ she said.
It was a glorious day. Tribal, almost, Sam thought as the whole family sat around a huge table, raising glasses to little India, who slept blissfully through most of it.
‘I hope she won’t be up the whole night, now,’ said Ted.
‘We’ll manage,’ said Sam with confidence, and she meant it.
It was nearly time for her to come off her antidepressant drugs and she wasn’t in the least worried. She felt like a different person now. The woman who’d had post-natal depression was gone. So too was the woman scared of doing everything wrong.
There was, as she had discovered, no one right way to do anything. All babies were different.
Work was going wonderfully. Kindness would have its big relaunch soon and Sam felt she had a great team around her. They could make a difference in people’s lives, she felt, and that was incredibly rewarding.
By the time the meal was over, India had woken up, been smiley and delighted, and then finally fractious and tired again.
‘Lots of people tire babies out,’ said Sam, taking her darling baba back and holding her expertly. They were staying the night in the hotel and Cynthia was taking care of the dogs – and Shazz.
‘I think I’ll put her up for a little snooze in our room.’
Vera leapt up. ‘I’ll stay with her and you can come back down.’
Sam could see that her mother had half risen in her seat but had settled herself again, assuming that her help would not be needed.
‘Vera, I might get my mother up,’ she said, and Vera, who knew it all, nodded wisely.
‘Me?’ Her mother looked shocked at this offer.
‘Yes, Mother, come on.’
It was time to let the past be in the past, Sam had decided. If Callie Reynolds could move on from what had happened to her, then she could move on too.
In the bedroom, Jean said: ‘Are you sure?’
Sam had never heard her mother so tentative.
‘We’ll feed her, change her and then lay her down for a nap. Once she goes to sleep, I’ll leave you for an hour, and if she wakes up and you can’t settle her, call me.’
It was, Sam thought, something she would never have been able to do even a few months ago. The very idea of leaving her mother alone with India was unthinkable then. But Jean had changed. The admission of her failures had oddly strengthened her relationship with Sam.
Sam was different too.
‘Mother is just Mother,’ she said to Joanne one day. ‘We can’t change her any more than she can change us. We just have to figure out how to live with her.’
‘I thought I was supposed to be the younger one who knew nothing,’ teased Joanne, then hugged her sister.
‘If India wakes and cries when she sees me, what then?’ said Jean, still clearly very anxious.
Sam patted her mother’s back gently.
‘Babies are a steep learning curve. Just soothe her, sing her a little song, hold her close. Stay calm.’
‘I can do calm,’ agreed Jean. ‘But singing?’
‘You were in a choir for years. Murmur something gently. A lullaby.’
‘OK, a lullaby.’
Half an hour later, when India was settled in her cot, the lights were low and Jean was settled in a chair with a magazine, Sam let herself out.
She stood outside the door, thinking that she’d never imagined this day would come. But it had. Another steep learning curve. But then, love and learning – that seemed to be what life was all about.