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The Story of Our Lives by Helen Warner (9)

BRIGHTON

‘Right, madam, you have some catching up to do after all those months not drinking. Cheers!’ Melissa clinked her glass against Sophie’s and they both drank greedily. The effect was almost instant, as Sophie’s spirits soared with each sip and her head began to swim in a pleasurable way. They sank down into the two armchairs and beamed at each other.

‘That’s more like it!’ Melissa sighed. ‘Wonder where the others are?’

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Sophie made to get up but found that her legs were surprisingly wobbly. ‘Jesus, I’m such a lightweight… I feel pissed already!’

‘Good!’ Melissa leapt out of her chair and ran towards the door, which she swung open with a flourish.

‘Hellooooo!’ came a cry, as Amy and Emily tumbled into the room, both of them looking distinctly dishevelled.

‘I see you’ve located the champagne Nick sent and demolished it already.’

Melissa put her hands on her tiny hips as if in a gesture of disapproval but she couldn’t hide her delight. ‘Oh, it’s so great to see you – come on, group hug!’

With an almighty effort, Sophie hauled herself out of her chair and joined the others in a mini rugby scrum of a hug. Four different scents combined with the alcohol fumes to make her senses swim. She had felt so dislocated and strange for so long now that it was overwhelming to be surrounded by so much love and such a feeling of belonging.

‘Sophie! Are you OK? What’s wrong?’ Amy pulled back as she spoke and broke the circle. All eyes turned towards Sophie with expressions of concern and bafflement.

Sophie shook her head roughly, trying to shake out the wooziness, embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I’m fine. I’m just… happy to see you.’

‘You’re such an old softie!’ Melissa reached up and put her arm around Sophie’s back, giving her a squeeze. ‘I think it’s more likely that it’s the first alcohol you’ve had in ages and it’s gone straight to your head.’

‘You’re probably right.’ The tension began to seep out of Sophie’s body. She knew that it was more than just the effect of the alcohol but she didn’t care. She desperately needed to let out some of the emotion she had been bottling up for so long.

The look of joy on Steve’s face was like a dagger to her heart. ‘Oh, wow, that’s amazing. Really, really amazing.’ He gazed at her in wonder, as if he was seeing her for the first time. ‘Are you sure?’

Sophie tried to smile, her lip wobbling. ‘I’m sure. I’ve done four tests so far. All of them with the same result.’

A sudden shadow flickered across Steve’s face. She knew what he was thinking.

‘It’s definitely yours, Steve.’

He nodded and looked down. ‘But presumably you can’t know that for certain.’

Sophie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She had to make this convincing. ‘I can and I do. We always used something. Whereas when you first came home…’

‘. . . we didn’t,’ he finished for her. Still he was looking down, unable to meet her eye.

‘When the baby’s born, if you want, I’ll have a DNA test done…’ Part of her hoped he’d agree. It would give her the answer she needed. Even if it wasn’t the answer she wanted.

‘No.’ Steve’s voice was firm and he looked up at her, as if decided. ‘No. No need.’

Sophie could feel her face beginning to burn but this was how it had to be. Even if she wasn’t certain, she had to make them both believe it.

‘Wow,’ Steve said, his face softening again. They were in a pizza restaurant, a large, noisy one where the clatter of plates fought with the hubbub of chatter and laughter. She had chosen it deliberately, unsure if she could cope with the well of emotion swirling around inside her if they were alone. She was scared that tears and words would come tumbling out in a waterfall of confession and regret.

Steve reached across the small marble-topped table and took her hand. ‘I am so, so pleased. How are you feeling?’

Sophie bit her lip. ‘Scared.’

A flicker of confusion passed over his face, his bright blue eyes clouding momentarily. ‘Just scared? Nothing else?’

Sophie smiled. ‘I’m excited too. Just… can’t imagine it, you know?’

Steve nodded. ‘I know.’

But of course, he didn’t.

She asked for a transfer at work so that she wasn’t producing the late news, claiming that the hours were too difficult for her to cope with while pregnant. Matt had texted her a few times, so eventually she invited him to go for a coffee and told him that she was pregnant.

The look of horror and fear in his eyes was in such stark contrast to Steve’s delighted reaction that she wondered for the millionth time why she had ever been stupid enough to get involved with him. ‘It’s not yours,’ she had told him bluntly, almost wanting to laugh as his face relaxed with relief. They had finished their coffees and parted company for what she knew would be the last time. Matt had only ever been interested in her for sex, so there was absolutely no point in continuing to see each other if that wasn’t on offer.

She and Steve sold their flat and moved into a small house not far from where Steve’s parents lived in Richmond in time for the baby’s arrival. On the surface, everything seemed perfect. Steve’s mum was going to act as the childminder once they both went back to work and Steve had had a promotion at work, which meant that they weren’t even going to be worse off financially.

But. She could help feeling like a fraud. And worse, much worse, she was starting to resent the baby. Things got slightly better after the twenty-week scan, when the sonographer revealed that she was expecting a girl. At least it wouldn’t look like him. She found herself clinging on to the hope that as soon as the baby was born, she would hold her in her arms and fall in love with her, all doubts forgotten.

The pregnancy was difficult. Not physically but emotionally. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was cheating Steve by pretending that she was certain about the baby’s paternity and without intending to, she started to mentally distance herself from him. He was so thrilled and excited about the baby that she wasn’t sure if he had even noticed, but she could feel an invisible wall building up between them.

After a long and painful labour, when the midwife placed the slippery, snuffling little bundle into her arms, she felt nothing. She cooed over her, as she knew everyone would expect her to do, but in stark contrast with Steve’s tearful, heartfelt welcome for his firstborn, all she felt was a cold detachment.

During the days and weeks that followed, she went through the motions of motherhood, all the while wondering when the surge of love she knew she was supposed to feel for her beautiful baby would kick in. But it didn’t. She watched Steve’s face melt every time he looked at Emma and felt a little spike of something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy shoot through her.

Emma was an easy baby. She smiled a lot and slept well but Sophie still found her exhausting and, although she would never admit it to anyone, even herself, she found motherhood a drudge. Whole days went by in a mundane blur of washing, ironing, changing nappies and feeding. When Steve went back to work after taking two weeks off, Sophie felt as if she had slumped into a pit of loneliness and despair that even the sweetest baby in the world couldn’t pull her out of.

All the girls came to visit. Melissa surprised her by scooping Emma up and cuddling her as if she had done it a million times before. She didn’t even seem to mind when Emma spewed up over her pale blue cashmere jumper. Amy and Emily came together and, once they had done the obligatory oohing and aahing, they both seemed keen to get away. She understood why. The house felt claustrophobic and stuffy, as if her mood had settled like a blanket of dust over everything in it.

Lots of other friends and family came to visit in the early days too but they had their own busy lives to lead and gradually the visits dwindled away to nothing, leaving her to find ways to fill the achingly long days. The first six weeks of Emma’s life were the longest of Sophie’s. The minutes, hours and days stretched out before her like a marathon course she felt she had no hope of ever completing.

When Steve came home from work, he was so thrilled to see Emma, he seemed not to notice that Sophie was gradually retreating into herself. He was as affectionate and loving towards her as ever but she could tell that his main focus had moved away from her and she didn’t like it one bit.

Amy’s hen weekend had been in the diary since before Emma was born and from the moment of her birth, it had taken on a huge significance. Every day she looked at it on the calendar like an oasis in the desert of her life and lurched towards it, willing it to come quicker. It was her escape. Her salvation. She imagined that just a couple of days away would turn her into the mother she knew she ought to be.

And now that day was here and she still didn’t feel the all-consuming love that she had heard other mothers talking about. Instead, she was already dreading the weekend being over and having to return to the drudgery of her everyday life.

‘So, Soph, how are you finding motherhood?’

Sophie spun around to find Emily looking up at her with an expression that she couldn’t quite read. ‘Um, good. Really good.’ It was the same answer she always gave. It had become a habit.

‘Is she a good baby?’

Sophie smiled. ‘She is. She sleeps really well and she’s turning into quite a porker!’

‘Have you got any new photos? I’d love to see them.’

Sophie hesitated. Had she brought any photos with her? It hadn’t occurred to her, she had been so excited about packing her own things. ‘I’m not sure where they are.…’ She reached for her bag and rummaged through it, feeling as she did so her cheeks starting to flame. ‘Oh no!’ she said, feigning regret. ‘I must have left them on my bed at home.’

Just then, Amy came to her rescue. ‘Hey, you two!’ she beamed, wrapping her arms around both their shoulders and pulling them into her embrace. ‘I hope you’re both ready to paaaarrrtaaay!’

‘She looks so happy, doesn’t she?’ Emily motioned towards Amy as she danced off to refill her glass.

‘She does.’ Sophie looked enviously at Amy, her long auburn hair shining, her porcelain skin glowing and her beautiful face set in a permanent smile of even, white teeth. She had so much to look forward to. It seemed unlikely that she would ever find herself struggling with life the way Sophie was right now.

‘So… Bit of a shock to the system, isn’t it?’ Emily’s dark eyes were boring into her, as if she could read Sophie’s thoughts.

‘Well, in a word, yes. But you’d know all about that. Honestly, Em, I can’t imagine how you did it on your own. It’s so…’

‘Relentless?’ Emily found the word for her. ‘I know, but I wasn’t on my own. Not really. I had more help than you’d think.’

Sophie felt a swell of admiration that Emily could play down what must have been such a difficult time for her. ‘I know your mum and dad were great but not having a partner must have been really tough. I don’t know what I’d have done without Steve these past few months.’ She paused before continuing. ‘He’s really taken to fatherhood. He’s better at it than me if I’m honest. It seems to come more naturally to him.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ Emily reached out and touched Sophie’s arm. ‘It’s just that you’re having to deal with all those hormones as well as the day-to-day drudge. It’s hard. Nothing can really prepare you for it.’

Sophie smiled her gratitude, unable to speak for a few seconds. The relief of hearing someone else voice what she was feeling was immense. Maybe she wasn’t so hopeless after all.

‘It’s not unusual to find it a struggle, Sophie. I think it would be weird if you sailed through it with no problems or feelings of doubt. God, the number of times I cried because I was such a useless mother!’

‘You?’ Sophie was dumbfounded. Emily had always seemed so strong. So sure. So capable.

‘Yes, me! And every other new mother too. The only words of comfort I can give you are that this feeling will pass. It’s a bit like the birth itself. You forget very quickly how painful it was.’

‘I feel…’ Sophie paused, trying to formulate her words. ‘I feel guilty. There are so many other people who are desperate for a baby. And then there’s me, who wishes…’ She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say out loud what she really felt.

Emily blinked and nodded slowly. ‘You can’t worry about other people, Soph. You have to concentrate on yourself. Don’t you think I’ve often thought how much easier my life would be if I’d met some rich, handsome man like Amy has? But that’s not her problem, it’s mine.’

Sophie nodded gratefully. Emily was always so wise. So calm. ‘And I’m sure you’ll meet your Mr Right one day, Ems.’

Emily’s dark eyes clouded momentarily. ‘Maybe. Then again, maybe I already did.’