Sixty-three
‘What have I done to deserve this, I wonder?’ James took in the sight before him.
Beth rushed to take his jacket and propelled him towards the kitchen table. ‘Welcome, sir, dinner’s nearly ready.’
James remained clueless. ‘Seriously, why are we eating at the table? And, more importantly, what is that delicious smell? Could it be one of your lasagnes?’
‘It is indeed a homemade lasagne. Aren’t you a lucky man?’
‘I guess I am.’ He seemed slightly on the defensive. Too many times over the years he’d come home to an angry wife with a face like a slapped arse. She had the right to look that way, he knew that, but still, with all this kindness, she was really throwing him a curveball. He sat, as directed, and took a large gulp of the wine she’d poured for him.
She joined him at the table, a glass of tap water in her hand. ‘Dinner will be a couple of minutes. I timed it well.’
‘Yes. You did. But …’
‘Do you remember when we made love the morning you headed off to work on that posh woman’s extension in Kent?’
James laughed. ‘Not especially. Sorry, but I don’t note every single time, the way you do.’
‘It was the anniversary of the day Nanna died. We made love, and then you went away for a few days.’
‘Um … yeah. I think so.’ It was clear he was pretending to remember, but she didn’t mind.
‘Well, it would seem …’ she produced a pregnancy test from behind her back, and placed it on the table in front of her husband, ‘that we made a baby that day!’ She looked down at the test. It clearly displayed two dark blue lines. How proud was Beth of those two lines?
‘We … I … you’re kidding?’
‘The test doesn’t lie.’
‘But … my sperm …’
‘It only takes one! Apparently one of your lads found his way home.’
‘Bloody hell fire!’
‘I knew it was worth it, to keep trying, I mean. I knew we shouldn’t give up.’
James jumped to his feet and grabbed Beth in a hug. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’
‘Listen, there’s something else I need to say.’
‘Oh, here it comes.’
‘No, it’s fine. It’s not a lecture. I promise.’
He seemed relieved. ‘Go on?’
‘This is a fresh start for us. We just need this little one to stay put.’ She swallowed hard, already in love with their baby, the thought of more heartache scared the life out of her.
‘It will, sweetheart. I’m sure of it.’
‘Right, well, I want this to be a new beginning for us. You’re going to go to your GA meetings regularly. You’re not going to let me down, and I … well, I’m going to finally forgive you for taking Nanna’s money.’
‘You mean you hadn’t already?’ He seemed hurt.
‘If I’m honest, I don’t think I had. I’ve been angry at you for so long, James. It’s not easy to love you, you know?’
‘I know.’
Beth headed over to the oven and removed their dinner. ‘There, it’s perfect. I do make a good lasagne, I’ve got to say.’
‘You do, and you’ll make us a fabulous baby too.’ James patted her belly.
‘I hope so. I’m worried half to death.’
‘Don’t be. It’s all going to be fine.’
‘We do deserve it to go well, don’t we?’
‘More than anyone else in the world.’
‘I want this to work. I want us to work.’
‘We will. I promise.’ He raised his glass. ‘To a fresh start and to baby Collier.’
Beth chinked her tumbler against his wine glass. ‘A fresh start and baby Collier.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ None of this was what Lisa had planned.
On the 8th November 2006, Megan Amanda Collier was born. Although a couple of weeks early, she was incredibly sturdy. Beth gazed into her baby’s face. She had a tiny button nose and her top lip formed a perfect cupid’s bow. The most striking thing about her, however, was her eyes. Big and blue, they stared unblinking up at her mum.
She had no idea if her daughter could focus yet, but Beth felt an immediate connection. Megan was, by far, the most beautiful baby in the world. Even Michelle’s children were not as cute. This baby, whom she had waited a million years for, was the most incredible thing she’d ever seen. She took away all the pain of the desperate years when they’d been trying to conceive. She wiped out every bad emotion Beth ever had about pregnant women. Megan mended her mum’s shattered heart. Beth instantly loved her more than life itself.
Megan was only a day old when the midwife told Beth she could take her home.
‘Already? But she’s tiny.’
The midwife smiled. ‘She weighs 8lb 4oz. She’s hardly tiny.’
‘She looks tiny to me. I can’t be responsible for her twenty four hours a day.’
‘Of course you can. You’ll do fine. Anyway, I know your mum. If anyone is worth asking for advice, I’d say it’s Pat.’
‘True. She is desperate to come round and help out.’
‘Right, call your husband, and tell him to bring the car seat.’
Beth had read many books on how to be a parent. In an effort to become the best mother she could, she’d spent the last few months swatting up. Many of her colleagues at the salon had given her advice, as had Michelle. She was adamant she had to get it right. Everyone knew how long she’d waited for this, she was sure they would judge.
The most recent book she’d bought declared that if she stuck to the rules laid out in its pages, her child would feed every four hours on the dot, and be absolutely no bother to anyone in between times. Things had been a bit haphazard in the hospital. She’d just about managed to get the hang of breastfeeding, but there hadn’t been much rhyme or reason to Megan’s requests for food.
Beth was determined to establish some order as soon as they got home. At around 9 p.m., she and James optimistically carried out the bedtime routine, that they were assured by Doctor Whatshername would lead to this wondrous night’s sleep. Megan was fed and bathed. They used the lavender baby lotion, as suggested, and then, closing the black-out blinds, they placed their daughter into her Moses basket, in her own room, kissed her goodnight, and headed to bed themselves. They figured if the book was to be believed, they now had four hours of good sleep ahead of them, before Megan would require the next feed.
Not long after 10 p.m. she began to murmur. They had both their bedroom door and hers open, the landing was the size of a handkerchief; it wasn’t difficult to hear her.
James began to get out of bed.
‘Where are you going? The book says to leave her.’
‘But …’
‘She’s not even crying properly yet. Wait a bit. The book says she’ll self-soothe.’
James sloped back into bed, suitably told. They both closed their eyes and tried to get back to sleep.
Within ten minutes, Megan’s murmurs began to grow louder.
James sat up and put the bedside light on. ‘I don’t think she’s going to stop, love.’
‘The book says ‒’
‘Sod the flamin’ book. She’s crying.’
Beth was unsure. She wanted people to say, ‘Wow, hasn’t Beth adapted to motherhood well? Did you know her baby sleeps through the night already!’ The doctor in the book explained that if she went to her baby whenever she cried, she’d be making a rod for her own back. ‘Let’s just wait a bit longer. She’s not crying much.’ She winced.
Moments later, and there was no doubt in either of their minds, Megan was now officially crying.
Beth’s heart ached. ‘What do you think she wants? She’s clean, she’s fed. I don’t understand.’
‘She wants us,’ James said. ‘She wants her mummy and daddy. She wants to know we haven’t abandoned her.’
‘But she’s supposed to self-soothe. It says ‒’
‘If I could get my hands on the doctor who wrote that book …’ James gritted his teeth.
‘OK. Look, we’ll give her five more minutes, and if she’s not stopped, we’ll go in there. Agreed?’
‘Fine!’ He didn’t look as if it was fine.
They both began counting down the minutes. The hands Beth had watched as she’d awaited the first New Year without Nanna, made their way agonisingly slowly around the clock face.
‘One minute,’ James counted aloud as the second hand passed the twelve.
‘Two,’ Beth called out, as the same hand crawled past the top of the clock.
Megan had reached a crescendo.
‘That’s it. I’m going!’ James jumped out of bed.
Beth joined him.
They raced across the tiny landing, covering it in two strides.
Beth grabbed her baby and lifted her up. James leant in and kissed the top of his daughter’s head, whispering, ‘We’ll never do that again. I promise you, sweetheart.’
Holding the baby tight to her breast, Beth begged for forgiveness for leaving her.
As she was gently rocked, Megan quietened down, and quickly fell back to sleep in her mum’s arms. She truly had just wanted a bit of reassurance.
Beth placed her back in her basket and they tiptoed back to bed.
The next day, James ceremoniously tore the book in half. He didn’t quite manage the spine, but his intent was clear. As he dropped it in the bin, Beth heard him say, ‘I’ll give you flamin’ self-soothe.’