And Baby Makes Two (14 page)

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Authors: Dyan Sheldon

BOOK: And Baby Makes Two
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“Shhh, shhh…” I whispered. “Daddy’s trying to tell us something.”

“It was the most brilliant time I’ve ever had,” Les was saying. He raised his voice to be heard over Shinola. “I went swimming every day. And I went fishing a couple of times and even scuba-diving. I really—”

I turned from the sink, holding the baby with one hand and the kettle with the other. “What?” I shouted. “Swimming, fishing and what?”

“Scuba-diving!” roared Les. “I really liked the scuba-diving. But it’s not as easy as you think.”

I’d never thought about scuba-diving at all and I wasn’t about to start just then. Les yammered on about scuba-diving and all the things you have to learn so you don’t kill yourself or anything, but there was no way I could really hear him. Not with trying to get the tea things out and Shinola shrieking in my ear. I didn’t want to interrupt him every three words to say “What?” Plus, I didn’t really care. He might as well have been talking about star surfing, it seemed so foreign and far away.

I came back into the living-room while he was going on about the fishing. He hadn’t caught anything.

“What a shame,” I said. “Still, you got a good tan.”

Les beamed. “And no sunburn. Usually I burn badly, but this time my nose didn’t even peel.”

I moved the nappies and put Shinola on the sofa beside him to bond. She’d settled down a bit once the tea was made, but as soon as she hit the couch she started up again.

Les jumped to his feet. “Christ!” He slapped his forehead. “Your surprise! How could I forget?”

It was a T-shirt that said “Winner of the Wet T-shirt Competition, Sunnytime Holidays” and then something in what I reckoned must be Greek. At least it was Greek to me.

“Try it on,” shouted Les.

“But the tea—”

He winked. “The tea can wait.” He winked again. “You have to wear it without a bra.”

I had to go in the kitchen to take my bra off because people could see into the living-room from the street. Les came after me.

I stuck out my chest. “How does it look?”

Les grinned. “It looks better when it’s wet, but it looks pretty good.”

I looked down. “They’re not so big any more.”

“They’re big enough for me,” said Les.

The way he said it made me feel all tingly.

Les took a step towards me.

I took a step towards him.

Our lips touched.

Shinola really started to scream.

Les jumped back as though my mouth was hot.

“Christ,” he said. He glanced at his watch. “I’d better get going. I can’t be late. Not after being on holiday.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. “But we haven’t had our tea! You must have time for tea.”

Les shook his head. “I really have to go.” He touched my breast. “And anyway, it’s really hard to concentrate with her screaming like that.”

I followed him to the front door.

“When am I going to see you again?”

“Soon. I’ll drop by.”

“Maybe we could have lunch one day.”

“Yeah,” said Les. “That’d be great. I’ll ring you, OK?”

I said, “OK.”

Shinola shrieked. If she was a car alarm someone would’ve smashed the windscreen by now.

Shinola was still screaming when the doctor’s receptionist from hell came home.

“What on earth have you been doing to this baby?” she demanded.

She grabbed her out of my arms. As per usual, she was all sweet and soft and coocoocoo with Shinola. But not with me.

“What were you doing to let her get in this state?” she demanded. She looked me up and down. “Putting on make-up?”

She said it like it was a crime or something.

“No,” I said. “I put it on before. Anyway, the book says it’s all right to let her cry.”

She rocked Shinola back and forth in her arms.

“Maybe you should get another book,” said my mother.

I was beginning to think they’d forgotten about me, but Shanee, Gerri and Amie finally found some time in their busy lives to pay me a visit.

I was really warming to my story. I’d had all the other mothers in the maternity ward and the nurses and everyone to tell about my experience, but this was the first time I’d told the story of Shinola’s birth to any of my friends. It was having a powerful effect.

“Oh, my God…” screeched Gerri. “Weren’t you terrified?”

“I can’t believe I wasn’t here when you needed me,” said Shanee. “Poor Lana.”

Amie held up her hands. “Please,” she begged, “I’ve heard enough. I’m never having children unless I can have a Caesarean.”

“That hurts too,” said Shanee.

“It can’t be as bad as what Lana went through,” said Amie. She shuddered. “I can’t even think of it without feeling sick.”

I laughed. I was enjoying myself. I felt really grown up, telling them all about giving birth and stuff. At last I knew something none of them knew.

“It wasn’t all that bad, really,” I said. “I mean, you know you’re not dying or anything. And, besides, you forget about it as soon as you see your baby.”

“Speaking of your baby, when do we see her?” asked Gerri.

I glanced at the clock. Babies are meant to follow a routine – sleep, eat, get changed, go back to sleep – but Shinola liked to leave out as much of the sleep bit as she could. She usually finally passed out round about the time she should’ve been waking up again.

“I put her to bed just before you came. She won’t be up for at least an hour.”

“We don’t have that long,” said Shanee. “I’ve got to get back to mind the brats.”

“Can’t we just take a peek?” asked Gerri.

I’d’ve preferred to have time to dress Shinola up in one of her cute little dresses, you know, so she looked less froggy. On the other hand, I did want to show her off.

“All right,” I said. “But you have to be quiet.”

We tiptoed into the bedroom and all stood round Shinola’s cot. She looked really sweet in her yellow sleep bag.

“What’s wrong with her skin?” asked Gerri.

“Nothing,” I whispered. “All babies look like that.”

“Do they all have hair like that, too?” asked Amie. “And flaky eyebrows?”

“For God’s sake!” I hissed at her. “She’s only just been born. Give her a chance.”

“So does she look like Les?” asked Amie.

“I think she looks like Lana,” said Shanee.

“She looks like Les,” I assured them. “Except she’s not so tall.”

“What did he say when he saw her?” asked Gerri.

It was always Gerri with the big mouth.

“He was delirious.” Which I was sure he would be. Eventually. “He came over as soon as he got back from Manchester.”

I didn’t want them thinking Les wasn’t so interested in me, so I’d told them he’d been sent up to Manchester with his job. It sounded better than him going on holiday to Greece.

“Where was your mum?” asked Gerri. “Don’t tell me they’ve finally met!”

I gave her a look. “Not likely. She still doesn’t know about him.” I gave her another look. “And she’s not going to. Not yet.”

“That’s going to make conjugal visits a little dodgy, isn’t it?” asked Gerri.

“Come on.” I grabbed hold of her and Amie and tugged. “Let’s go back to the living-room. We’re going to wake her up.”

They’d all been oohing and aahing right over the cot, and we’d had a whole conversation right over her head, but it was the really soft shutting of the bedroom door that woke her. Click went the door and the next sound was Shinola Spiggs going off like a car alarm.

“Geez,” said Gerri. “Is there a pin in her or something?”

I rolled my eyes. “Pampers don’t have
pins
. She must’ve heard the door and it woke her up.”

“Does she always scream like that?” asked Amie.

“Do you want me to get her?” asked Shanee.

“She’ll be all right. I’ll put on some music, it’ll help her sleep.”

I put on an Oasis CD and made us all some tea.

Gerri started telling me about her new boyfriend. He was a bicycle courier and had a terrific body. Plus, he was gorgeous. Plus, he made good money.

Shinola kept crying, but the Gallaghers’ whining was pretty good at blocking her out. You could only just hear her under the music. Shanee glanced towards the hallway a few times, but I pretended I thought Shinola had gone back to sleep and Shanee didn’t say anything.

I started really enjoying myself again. Only now I didn’t feel grown up, like when I talked about having Shinola. I just felt like me.

Amie had a part-time job in one of the pizza places on the high street. The boss was a miserable old git, but the tips weren’t bad.

Shinola kept crying.

Shanee stood up suddenly. “I think we’d better get going.” She looked towards the hall.

“You don’t have to go so soon,” I said. I grabbed the pot from the table. “Why don’t I make us all more tea?”

Gerri and Amie both looked at Shanee.

“I’ve got stuff to do, too,” said Gerri.

Amie winked. “And I’m expecting an important call.”

That meant a boy.

I had to stop myself from shoving her back in her seat. “He’ll call back,” I insisted. “Just have another cup of tea.”

“Next time,” said Gerri.

Amie nodded. “Yeah, next time, Lana.”

“Why don’t you go and get the baby,” said Shanee. “We can let ourselves out.”

I watched the three of them leave the house from the front window. They didn’t even look back to wave goodbye. They were laughing and talking as though they couldn’t hear Shinola from the road. I knew that they could from the times that I’d left her to ring Les from the phone box so Hilary wouldn’t see the number on the phone bill. You could hear her from the high street.

I watched them all go off towards Shanee’s and I wondered if there would ever be a next time. And then, instead of going to Shinola, I burst into tears myself.

A Job for Life

Although Les came round every couple of days before work, he was so busy after being on holiday that it was October before we finally managed to have lunch.

It wasn’t the best day to take Shinola out. I knew that. It was really cold for October and it was pouring down. But I wasn’t going to let a bit of bad weather put me off seeing Les.

Plus, I was really bored of being at home on my own all the time. Shanee was always busy with school and stuff, and, when she did come round, Shinola was always up and squawking so we could never really talk. Amie and Gerri never bothered coming round after that first time at all. They had more important things to do.

Anyway, I was so busy with everything else I had to do that I hadn’t made any more bottles after Shinola had her breakfast. Plus, I wanted her to wear the red and blue tartan dress Shanee gave her, but the tartan dress was still in the laundry from the last time she wore it. So, because of having to make her a couple of bottles, and wash and dry the dress, it took ages to get us ready.

As I was running late, I had to put my eye make-up on with one hand while I held Shinola on my hip with the other. She squirmed and gurgled so much that I ended up with one eye that looked naked and one eye that looked like someone’d punched me, and tears in both. I wiped off as much of the extra as I could.

“It’ll have to do,” I said to our reflection in the mirror. We didn’t look like the pictures I’d seen of Madonna and her baby, that’s for sure. We looked more like one of those advertisements in the paper asking for money to help kids in the Third World.

I sprayed some Tommy Girl on me and a tiny bit on Shinola. Even if we didn’t
look
like a trendy mother and daughter we could smell like them.

Shinola didn’t like the perfume.

I hoped she wasn’t going to turn out to be a tomboy. I looked down at her. She didn’t look very feminine. In fact, she looked sort of like a boy. What if she turned out to be a lesbian? I hadn’t thought about that.

I almost forgot about Les and lunch for a couple of minutes while I started worrying about all the things Shinola could turn out to be that I hadn’t thought of. I was starting to realize that having a kid wasn’t like buying a dress. When you bought a dress you knew what you’d bought: a dress. If you got home and realized it wasn’t a dress you would actually want to be seen in, alive
or
dead, you could take it back. But when you had a baby you didn’t really know what you’d got. Shinola drooled down my sweater. And you couldn’t take it back.

I put on another sweater and some more Tommy Girl. By now I was going to be lucky to get to McDonald’s on time, even if we had a helicopter. I threw a couple of nappies and a bottle into Shinola’s bag, stuck her in her buggy, and raced out of the house.

Catching a bus with a baby is about as much fun as catching a bus with a temperamental ostrich under your arm. I tried to take Shinola out every day if I could, so we were used to buses by now, but this was our first bus trip in the rain. Which meant we had more gear than usual. You never go
anywhere
with a baby without lugging enough stuff to go camping for a week.

To get on the bus, I had to take Shinola out of her buggy and fold it up. To get her out of her buggy, I had to remove her from the plastic bubble. Then, with one hand, I had to fold up the pushchair. Only it wouldn’t fold flat with the plastic bubble inside, and I couldn’t get it locked in place. Then I had to get Shinola and me and the buggy on to the bus. Nobody offered to help, not even when the damn thing sprang open and nearly pulled us back to the pavement.

It was one of those little single-decker buses, and because it was raining, it was packed. So once you got up the stairs there wasn’t actually anywhere to go.

“Seventy pence,” said the driver.

I didn’t have my money ready, and I couldn’t get it out because I only had two hands, and one of them was trying to hold the buggy shut and the other was trying to hold Shinola.

“Could you wait till I put the pushchair away?”

“Seventy pence,” said the driver.

As per usual, Shinola started to cry. I could feel everybody capable of even the slightest movement turn to look at us.

“For God’s sake,” I hissed at her. “Not
now
!”

But would she listen? Sometimes I worried that she was going to be like her grandmother.

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